The woods were eerily quiet. No birds chirped. No crickets sang. Karma and Omar kept their eyes moving, their hands never straying far from their weapons. Karma knew the nearest village was Humbridge, but there was no telling where Dagner would be. That dwarf was always traveling, never staying in one place for too long.
Sighing, she nudged Pepper forward. Omar, however, seemed lost in thought. His hazel eyes were distant, as if lost in a memory. Karma could probably guess what it was.
"Don't worry," she said softly. "We'll get them back. I promise." Omar's gaze shifted toward her. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"I know," he murmured.
Karma studied him for a moment before prompting, "Tell me about her."
"About whom?" Omar asked, though the flicker of amusement in his eyes told her he already knew.
Karma rolled her eyes. "Your daughter, of course!"
"Oh," Omar exhaled, taking a deep breath.
"Hope was born three years ago, in the elven village of Rou. She has my white hair and Mika's violet eyes. She's the most energetic little thing I've ever known. But she always gets into trouble, so you have to keep an eye on her at all times."
As Omar spoke, Karma couldn't help but smile. Hope sounded like the kind of child she would love to be around. But more than that, she could hear the longing in Omar's voice, see it in the way his expression softened. He missed his family terribly.
"We'll get them back," Karma assured him once more. Omar nodded. For a long while, they rode in silence, the only sound being the rustling wind through the trees. It had been three days since they left the sprite village.
Three long days of unbearable headaches. As they continued on, a sudden thought struck Karma. "Hey, Omar," she said. "What happens if we run into a dwarf who doesn't speak our language?"
Omar chuckled. "Well, that sounds like your problem, eh, Creator?" Karma shot him a glare, but he only grinned. "You're the one who's supposed to know every tongue in Arula," he added.
"The only tongue I know is Dragon Tongue, and you know that," Karma huffed.
Omar rolled his eyes. "So you'd rather learn a language no one uses instead of one that might actually be useful?"
"Hey! Learning Dragon Tongue could be useful in the future," she shot back. Omar only snorted. Dragons were a mystery in Arula. They never left their territory, never showed themselves. No one even knew what they looked like. Anyone who entered the Dragon Clan's lands... never returned.
Rumors claimed the dragons had their own secret society. That they were guarding something. Something big. Some said if the truth ever came to light, it would bring about the end of the world. But then again, rumors were just that—rumors.
"Che peccato." Such a shame. Omar muttered in Elvish. Karma shot him a look.
A sudden crack of a branch snapped both of them to attention. The horses snorted, hooves shifting nervously against the forest floor. Another snap. Then another. A howl rang through the trees.
Then—out of the bushes—dwarves on the backs of massive wolves burst into the clearing. The riders circled them, their wolves growling, eyes glinting like molten gold in the dim light. A burly dwarf rode forward. He had a thick black beard, piercing blue eyes, and a massive axe strapped to his back.
He said something in his native tongue. Karma and Omar didn't respond. The dwarf huffed, clearing his throat before switching to their language. "Ah. So you don't speak our tongue, eh?" His voice was deep, thick with a heavy accent. His lips curled into a wicked grin. "No matter," he said. "You won't live long enough to learn."