Spark of Fire
9th of Ymiden, Arc 718
When news of the bandit raid had finally reached the Lightning Cathedral, the whole building had erupted into action. High priestesses of every branch organized teams to be sent out to the village, while people were given new directives in relation to the situation. One of those people was Lynessa. She had dealt with troubles in the Mistral Village before and at least some of the citizens there would recognize her. The young woman was briefed with what little information that had come to them – and her goal was to find more about what had happened.
Early the next morning, a long trail of caravan was ready to leave the city. Horses carrying knights and priestesses. Carriages filled with supplies, mostly food and medicines for the healers to work with. More than a dozen of citizens had also volunteered to go the village, wanting to offer their services for their rebuilding and whatever else they needed.
Lynessa rode with Leth on a horse, settled somewhere in the lead. Their journey was tense, people keeping their voices low, talking in the barest whispers when they could. There were only the clops of hooves against dirt and the squeak as carriage wheels turned.
The air was thick with fear and grief. That much was clear to her as their horse strode to the outskirts of the village. Villagers were meandering around listlessly until they finally noticed the caravan of knights and priestesses. As the news traveled, more faces slipped out of their homes to gather outside. Lynessa began looking for familiar faces, of Nicolai, Samuel, and William. Hopefully they were alright.
Leth helped her down from the stallion gently, his hand giving her a reassuring squeeze of her arm as she settled on the ground. The scene in front of them was morose, heavy. The priestess could spot a few homes already burnt down, nothing but blackened rubbles on the ground. A few villagers had lost their lives too, she heard, when they tried to protect their people with what little experience they had with weapons – which wasn’t much at all.
As she looked at her fellow knights and priestesses behind her, Lynessa could see that her expression was mirrored on their faces. They had failed this time. Failed to save the people they were sworn to protect.
Lynessa approached the group, eyes scanning them slowly. She was clad in leather armor, the silver chains on her wrists the only indications of what order she belonged to. There were a variety of emotions on all of their faces – relief, gladness, anger. That would have to be dealt with later. Right now, she hoped that the head of village would identify himself or herself so that she could explain what they were here for.
Early the next morning, a long trail of caravan was ready to leave the city. Horses carrying knights and priestesses. Carriages filled with supplies, mostly food and medicines for the healers to work with. More than a dozen of citizens had also volunteered to go the village, wanting to offer their services for their rebuilding and whatever else they needed.
Lynessa rode with Leth on a horse, settled somewhere in the lead. Their journey was tense, people keeping their voices low, talking in the barest whispers when they could. There were only the clops of hooves against dirt and the squeak as carriage wheels turned.
The air was thick with fear and grief. That much was clear to her as their horse strode to the outskirts of the village. Villagers were meandering around listlessly until they finally noticed the caravan of knights and priestesses. As the news traveled, more faces slipped out of their homes to gather outside. Lynessa began looking for familiar faces, of Nicolai, Samuel, and William. Hopefully they were alright.
Leth helped her down from the stallion gently, his hand giving her a reassuring squeeze of her arm as she settled on the ground. The scene in front of them was morose, heavy. The priestess could spot a few homes already burnt down, nothing but blackened rubbles on the ground. A few villagers had lost their lives too, she heard, when they tried to protect their people with what little experience they had with weapons – which wasn’t much at all.
As she looked at her fellow knights and priestesses behind her, Lynessa could see that her expression was mirrored on their faces. They had failed this time. Failed to save the people they were sworn to protect.
Lynessa approached the group, eyes scanning them slowly. She was clad in leather armor, the silver chains on her wrists the only indications of what order she belonged to. There were a variety of emotions on all of their faces – relief, gladness, anger. That would have to be dealt with later. Right now, she hoped that the head of village would identify himself or herself so that she could explain what they were here for.



