Chapter 4: New Beginnings

  The sky was beginning to lighten with the first hints of dawn as he ran a calloused hand along the bear’s thick fur, silently thanking the creature before sending it back into the wild. The wolves lingered a moment longer, their yellow eyes gleaming in the dim light before vanishing into the forest’s depths.

  Kaavi lifted his gaze to the sky, summoning the raven. The bird circled high above, its sharp eyes scanning the nd before returning to perch on his outstretched arm. Its silence was an answer in itself—no immediate danger. Not yet.

  Satisfied, Kaavi pushed open the cabin door. The wooden floor creaked beneath his weight; a sound so familiar it almost felt like home. Almost.

  A Shared Silence

  Kaavi moved with practiced efficiency, gathering ingredients from the shelves. He set to work making breakfast, his hands steady despite the exhaustion tugging at his bones. The sharp scent of chopped herbs mixed with the earthy aroma of potatoes and mushrooms as he stirred the pot over the fire.

  The warmth of the food filled the cabin, but it could not reach the shadows in Viktor’s heart.

  Kaavi turned toward the small bedroom, where the boy still y curled beneath the bnkets. He hesitated for a moment, then knelt beside him, pcing a hand on his shoulder.

  “Viktor,” he said softly. “It’s time to eat.”

  The boy stirred, his eyes fluttering open. For a brief moment, there was confusion in his gaze, the kind that comes when waking from a dream one desperately wishes were real. Then the realization set in. The grief. The loss.

  Wordlessly, Viktor sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He followed Kaavi to the table, where two bowls of steaming soup awaited them. He picked up his spoon, stirring absently before taking a sip.

  Kaavi watched him carefully. “How is it?”

  Viktor swallowed. “It’s good,” he murmured, voice quiet, distant.

  Kaavi nodded. He didn’t push further.

  The meal passed mostly in silence, save for the occasional crackle of the fire. When they finished, Kaavi set his spoon down and, without a word, reached across the table. He pulled Viktor into a firm, steady embrace.

  Viktor stiffened at first, unused to such gestures. Then, slowly, he leaned into the warmth, his small fingers curling into the fabric of Kaavi’s tunic.

  “I’m here,” Kaavi murmured. “You’re not alone.”

  Viktor didn’t respond, but he didn’t pull away either.

  The Weight of Leaving

  When Kaavi finally released him, he knelt so that they were at eye level. “We cannot stay here,” he said gently. “It’s not safe.”

  Viktor frowned slightly. “But... this is home.”

  Kaavi let out a quiet sigh. “I know. But danger will find us if we remain. We must leave while we still have the choice.”

  Viktor lowered his gaze, staring at his hands. “Where will we go?”

  Kaavi pced a firm hand on the boy’s shoulder. “To your father’s people. The dwarven kingdom in the north.”

  Viktor’s eyes flickered with uncertainty. “I don’t know them.”

  “But they are your kin,” Kaavi said. “They will take you in.”

  A long pause stretched between them before Viktor finally nodded. He stood, walking to the doorway. But as he reached for the handle, he hesitated.

  His eyes flickered toward a small wooden carving resting on the shelf—an old trinket his mother used to keep near the firepce. His fingers hovered over it before he curled them into a fist and pulled his hand back.

  Kaavi noticed but said nothing.

  Preparing for the Journey

  As the morning sun climbed higher, Kaavi made his way to the storage room. Dust motes danced in the air as he untched an old wooden chest, his fingers running along the worn edges. He lifted the lid, revealing Artur’s sword nestled within. The bde, though dulled with time, still held its weight and bance. Kaavi traced a hand over the hilt, his mind fshing back to the st time he had seen Artur wield it.

  With a quiet sigh, he closed the chest and lifted the sword, wrapping it carefully in cloth before securing it to his pack. Artur’s son deserved to know his father’s legacy, even if the road to that knowledge would be long and painful.

  Returning to the main room

  Kaavi found Viktor waiting near the door, his small hands clutching his worn coat. The boy shivered slightly in the morning chill.

  Kaavi reached into a trunk by the hearth and pulled out a thick, fur-lined cloak. It had belonged to him once, but it would serve Viktor better now.

  "Here," he said, draping it over Viktor’s shoulders. "This will keep you warm."

  Viktor touched the heavy fabric, his fingers curling into the folds. "Thank you," he murmured.

  They worked in quiet harmony, packing what little they could carry. Kaavi showed Viktor how to bundle supplies efficiently, expining which items were essential for survival. Viktor listened, absorbing every word, though his mind remained heavy with thoughts he did not voice.

  As Kaavi secured the final strap on his pack, he gnced at Viktor. “You have a sharp eye,” he noted. “I saw you watching me st night when I tended the fire. You see more than most.”

  Viktor blinked. “I do?”

  Kaavi nodded. “You notice things. That will serve you well in the days ahead.”

  Viktor wasn’t sure what to make of the comment, but he tucked it away, something to consider ter.

  The sun had risen fully now, its golden light spilling across the snow-draped ndscape. Kaavi took one st look at the cabin before stepping forward.

  Viktor followed.