The sun hung low in the sky, casting golden rays through the broken window as the Whitlock household stirred. Teran made his way downstairs, leaning slightly on the wooden banister for support. His steps were slow but steady, a testament to his resilience despite the pain in his side.

  At the bottom of the stairs, the warm aroma of breakfast greeted him. Lilly was bustling about the kitchen, her movements precise yet gentle as she prepared a hearty meal. A plate of eggs and thick slices of bread waited for him on the table, alongside a steaming cup of herbal tea.

  “Morning,” Teran muttered as he lowered himself carefully into his chair.

  “Morning, love,” Lilly replied with a soft smile, setting another pan on the stove. “Eat up while it’s hot. You’ll need your strength today.”

  Teran glanced toward the boys, who were still sprawled out in the sitting room. Kyler snored lightly, his axe resting against the wall beside him, while Aaron was curled up near the hearth, wrapped in a fur blanket.

  “They really stayed up all night?” Teran asked, his voice low and filled with disbelief.

  “They did,” Lilly said, placing another plate on the table for herself. She sat across from him, her expression proud yet tinged with worry. “Aaron kept watch for hours. Then he woke Kyler to take over. They didn’t sleep until dawn.”

  Teran shook his head, a small smile forming on his lips. “I can’t believe it. They kept you—and themselves—safe. Those boys... they’re growing up too fast.”

  “They had to, Teran,” Lilly said softly, her eyes glistening. “And they didn’t hesitate. I’ve never been prouder of them.”

  As they spoke, a sudden knock echoed through the house. The sound was firm and deliberate, making both parents tense for a moment.

  Teran exchanged a wary glance with Lilly before rising slowly to his feet, wincing as he adjusted his weight.

  “Who would be knocking this early?” Lilly asked, moving to stand behind him.

  Teran made his way to the door, peeking through the small crack where the broken latch had been hastily patched up.

  Outside stood three men clad in the distinct green-and-silver uniforms of the town guard. Their chainmail glinted in the morning sun, and their stern faces bore the wear of long patrols. The leader, a stocky man with a thick brown beard, raised a hand in greeting.

  “Whitlock farm?” he called out.

  Teran opened the door cautiously, keeping his body angled to shield Lilly from view.

  “That’s us,” he replied gruffly. “What brings the guard out here?”

  The leader stepped forward,

  “That’s us,” Teran replied gruffly. “What brings the guard out here?”

  The leader stepped forward, his gaze sweeping across the farmstead—broken windows, disturbed earth, and the unmistakable signs of a struggle. His eyes briefly settled on the bodies of the goblins lying near the edge of the property, two of them still twisted in awkward, clawed positions, their crude weapons discarded nearby. The scent of blood lingered faintly in the air, mixing with the damp morning chill.

  “What happened here?” the leader asked, his voice cautious, but sharp.

  “They tried to take my chickens first,” Teran said, his voice low but steady. “I fought the two at my chicken coup killing one, but the other, a third hid in the shadows and ended up stabbing me in the side. It then proceeded to attack my family breaking into my house.”

  The leader’s eyes narrowed as he took in the fresh evidence. “You fought them off?”

  Teran nodded, his jaw tightening. “Not just I, we did.” He said, gesturing towards his family.

  The leader’s expression grew more serious. “And your family? They’re safe?”

  Teran’s gaze flicked toward the farmhouse, where movement could be heard inside. “For now. But they came after my family, not just my chickens. They were looking for something—or someone.”

  The leader’s brow furrowed. “Goblins… bold enough to strike at a farm, but with a purpose. This isn’t just random raiding. There’s something driving them.”

  “Yes,” Teran agreed. “They weren’t here just for food. They wanted more.”

  The leader exchanged a glance with his men before speaking again. “We’ll need to track these creatures. If they’ve been emboldened enough to attack a farmstead like this, they’re part of something bigger. And if they’re hunting for something specific…” His voice trailed off as he let the implication sink in.

  “I have a feeling by the way the last one looked back at me,” Teran warned. “They’ll be back I fear.”

  The leader exchanged a brief look with his men before turning back to Teran. “We’ll need to increase patrols in this area—especially at night. These attacks… they’re happening too frequently, and if goblins are starting to cross into settled lands, we can’t afford to let them gain a foothold.”

  He paused, his brow creasing with a mix of regret and frustration. “Apologies for the inconvenience. We’re stretched thin right now—manpower is short. The war with the neighboring nations has taken its toll on our numbers. We’ve had to divert most of our resources to protect the main roads and outposts. It’s been harder than usual to keep eyes on everything, but we’ll do what we can.”

  Teran listened intently, his expression hardening. “The war… that’s spreading the trouble to places like this. Makes it easier for things like goblins to slip through.”

  The leader nodded grimly. “Exactly. The borders are unstable, and the more they push, the more desperate things become—both from the enemy and from those looking to take advantage of the chaos. You’re not the first farm we’ve seen hit recently, but your fight shows they’re getting bolder.”

  He straightened slightly and offered a firm nod. “We’ll organize additional night patrols starting tonight. We’ll make sure to have someone stationed here, at least during the darkest hours. You and your family need to stay alert, and if you spot anything strange again, don’t hesitate to send word.”

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  Teran exhaled slowly, his shoulders tense. “I appreciate it. We’ll need all the protection we can get.”

  The leader clasped his hands together and offered a sympathetic smile. “We’ll do what we can. We’re here to keep the peace, but we’re stretched thin. Try to hold strong. We’ll make sure the next patrol stops by to check in.”

  With that, the guards turned, their steps deliberate as they began to move toward the edge of the property. The leader glanced back once more, his eyes lingering on the farm one last time before he faded into the distance.

  As the guards began to fade into the distance, Lilly stepped quietly onto the front porch, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her eyes remained fixed on the retreating figures, a frown creasing her brow.

  “I don’t like the sound of that,” she murmured, her voice low, barely audible over the chirping of the birds.

  Teran followed her gaze, his face hardened. “Goblins getting this close—like they’ve lost their fear. They’re hungry, desperate. And something tells me they’ll keep coming back if we let them.”

  Lilly sighed, shaking her head slightly. “The patrols won’t be enough. We need more, something stronger, something closer. These woods are too vast, and the goblins are bold enough now to strike at a farm like ours. What if next time they’re not so easy to fight off?”

  Teran stepped beside her, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “We’ll make it through. We’ve handled worse, and we’ve got each other.”

  Lilly gave a small nod, but her worry didn’t entirely fade. “It’s not just us now, Teran. It’s Aaron and Kyler too. They’re not children anymore, but still… they shouldn’t have to face things like this.”

  Teran’s brow furrowed. “We’ve been lucky so far. But we can’t rely on luck alone anymore. We’ll need to make sure we’re ready next time.”

  As they turned to head inside, Lilly glanced back one last time toward the edge of the property where the guards had been standing moments ago. The morning air was still, heavy with tension. Shadows lingered longer than usual, and the woods seemed darker than they had before.

  Teran exhaled slowly, his gaze hardening. “We’ll work on fixing the house, making sure it’s secure. And we’ll prepare in case they come back.”

  Lilly nodded, her expression thoughtful. She turned toward the house, then glanced up toward the attic. “We’ve still got that old bow and some arrows up there. For hunting.”

  Teran looked over at her, curious. “Really? I didn’t know we still had that.”

  Lilly smiled slightly, heading toward the stairs. “I used to be a pretty good archer. Maybe I still have it—never know.” She chuckled softly, teasing, but her tone carried an edge of determination.

  Teran watched her go, his mind already running through the steps they needed to take. The woods would hold more surprises, and they couldn’t afford to be caught off guard again.

  Teran and the boys worked diligently outside, starting with the broken front door. Kyler hefted the new wooden planks they had scavenged from the barn, while Aaron carefully measured lengths to replace what had been splintered. Teran guided them, showing where the nails should be driven in and how to ensure it would hold firm against further attacks. They moved efficiently, their teamwork growing stronger with each task completed.

  Nearby, Lilly had retrieved the old bow from the attic. She set it down gently by the porch and called Kyler over, who glanced at her with curiosity. “This thing hasn’t been used in years,” she said, her fingers brushing along the worn wood. “But it still has some life left in it.”

  Kyler stepped closer, reaching out. “Can I try it?”

  Lilly smiled, giving the bow to him. “Go ahead but be careful. It’s been a while since I’ve used it myself.”

  Kyler strung the bow hesitantly, his fingers clumsy at first. Lilly watched with gentle guidance, showing him the right way to hold it, how to draw the string without snapping it.

  “Now, you want to keep your elbow straight here,” Lilly instructed, positioning his arm. “And make sure your grip is firm, but not too tight. It must feel natural.”

  She stepped back, watching as Kyler released the string. The arrow twanged faintly and landed slightly to the side of the target. He groaned in frustration but was undeterred.

  “Almost. Keep your stance steady and focus on the center,” Lilly encouraged. She picked up another arrow and demonstrated again. This time, her shot sailed straight through the center of the straw target, hitting with a satisfying thunk.

  The boys’ eyes widened. Aaron, who had been listening from a distance, perked up. “Wow, you’re amazing!”

  Lilly chuckled, a proud glimmer in her eye. “I had my moments back in my younger days. But practice makes perfect. Let me show you how to make arrows, too. We’ll need some feathers—might spot some birds around.”

  Kyler nodded eagerly, looking back at the bow with renewed interest. “We could try again later.”

  Teran, hearing the exchange from where he and Aaron were working on the chicken coop, called out, “Make sure to stay safe while practicing, don’t push yourselves too hard.”

  Aaron glanced over his shoulder, sweat glistening on his brow as he hammered another nail into the wooden frame. “We’ll be careful, Father.”

  Teran smiled, though his gaze remained focused on his task. “Good. We’ll need more supplies inside, just in case we get stuck inside longer than usual. Get some water, bring food closer to the house.”

  Aaron nodded, grabbing a bucket to fill with water from the nearby well, while Teran returned to the coup to continue reinforcing the walls. They worked side by side, the familiar rhythm of their hands at work, making sure their home was secure. As Lilly began gathering sticks and helping Kyler make another target, the sense of purpose settled over them, grounding them for what might lie ahead.

  “I’ll sharpen some sticks too,” Teran said, glancing up. “Sturdy ones can double as spears if we need them—keep them inside where they’re easy to grab.”

  Aaron glanced toward the makeshift weapons. “Good idea. Better to be prepared.”

  Lilly’s voice floated over from where she stood. “Once you’ve got the hang of shooting, you’ll be able to defend yourselves better. Not just with this, but with your mind too. Magic has its place—but even without it, you’ll know how to protect yourselves.”

  The boys exchanged eager looks, listening closely to their mother’s every word, soaking in every lesson she offered. In the background, Teran’s hammer struck against the wood, steady and purposeful, each movement echoing the resilience of the family that was determined to stay safe in the face of growing threats.

  After Teran and Aaron finished with the chicken coop, they moved on to a different task—preparing noise traps around the property. Teran gathered old pots and cans he found lying about, stuffing them with small rocks and fastening them with bits of string. He carefully strung them around the edges of the property, securing them to sturdy branches and fence posts.

  “This way, if anyone—or anything—gets too close, they’ll make a racket,” Teran explained, glancing back toward the house. “We’ll know before they get too near.”

  Aaron nodded, grabbing a few more pots from the barn and filling them with rocks, setting them in strategic spots around the wood line.

  As they worked, Lilly approached with thorn bushes she had gathered from the edge of the forest, placing them near the livestock area. She began weaving them into makeshift barriers, lining the fence to create a natural deterrent—spiky nettles and thorns stretching along the perimeter.

  “Even if they can’t see this barrier,” she explained to the boys, “they’ll feel it if they try to get through. This should help keep the animals safe.”

  Teran glanced over at the thorny barricades she was building. “Good thinking. Anything that slows them down is a blessing.”

  Lilly tied off the last of the thorn barriers, her hands scratched but satisfied. “Now we have something between us and anyone—or anything—trying to make their way inside.”

  Kyler, still holding the bow, came over to inspect the work. “What if they still try to get in?”

  Lilly met his gaze with a steady look. “We’ll defend what’s ours. With the right tools—and with each other—there’s nothing we can’t withstand. But you must remember, it’s not just about shooting a bow or setting traps. It’s about knowing when to fight and when to wait.”

  The boys nodded, taking in her words, determined to learn. Aaron, nearby, smirked slightly. “We’ll keep practicing. It’ll be like second nature by the time they come back.”

  As the sun dipped low, casting long shadows across the yard, Teran called everyone inside for supper. The family gathered around the rough-hewn table, bowls filled with simple but hearty stew, a blend of roots, beans, and a few vegetables they had managed to scavenge from the land. The fire crackled in the hearth, filling the room with warmth, and the familiar scent of cooking brought a temporary calm.

  They ate quietly at first, the rhythmic clinking of spoons against bowls a steady backdrop to the low hum of conversation. Teran leaned back in his chair, wiping his hands on a cloth, and took a deep breath before speaking. “We’ll keep at this tomorrow. There’s more to be done—better defenses, food storage… and anything else we can think of.”

  Lilly nodded, passing a piece of bread to Kyler, who eagerly tore it apart. “We need to be ready for something like that happening again.”

  Kyler looked up at his parents, his small brows furrowed. “You think they’ll come back tonight?”

  Teran exchanged a glance with Lilly before responding. “They’ll be watching. It’s best to be prepared. We’ve done all we can for now.”

  Aaron, finishing his bowl, sat back with a tired sigh. “It’s going to be a long night, isn’t it?”

  Lilly smiled gently, reaching over to ruffle his hair. “It’s always the longest just before dawn, but we’ve got each other.”

  After supper, they cleaned up and moved to the hearth, sitting close together in the fading light. The boys listened attentively as Lilly began telling stories from her youth, about the times she had spent with her family before they had moved to this place. She spoke of the days when she would practice with her bow, of the wild game she had tracked and hunted with ease. Her stories were filled with wonder and resilience, a glimpse into the life she once led, before everything changed.

  As the night deepened, the family eventually retired to their rooms. Kyler and Aaron shared a room upstairs while Teran and Lilly took the larger room down the hall. The house settled into stillness, the only sounds being the soft creak of floorboards and the distant rustling of leaves outside.

  But just as midnight approached, something disturbed the quiet.

  The first noise broke through the stillness, a faint rattle from the outer edges of the property. The sound of cans shifting, like something had brushed against them. It was subtle at first, barely more than a whisper.

  Lilly stirred in her sleep, hearing it. She sat up, her gaze fixed on the window that looked out toward the barn and chicken coop. Her hand instinctively reached for the old bow she had leaned against the wall earlier. Her heart quickened. “Teran,” she murmured, shaking her husband gently awake.

  Teran stirred, his eyes snapping open. “What is it?”

  “I heard something… noise traps. The cans.”

  The faint sound grew louder, closer now—the rhythmic clatter of metal being disturbed. Lilly moved to the window, drawing back the curtain just enough to see the dark outline of something moving near the chicken coop. The creature—no, multiple shapes—circling cautiously, their forms blurred in the moonlight.

  Suddenly, a sharp yelp echoed through the air—one of the chickens screeching in terror. The noise snapped through the stillness like a warning.

  “Get the boys!” Teran whispered urgently, already slipping out of bed and grabbing the makeshift spear he had made earlier.

  Lilly rushed to Kyler and Aaron’s room, shaking them awake. “Get up, now! The goblins are back!”