The Starving Roots of Aldrune
Selena awoke to the scent of damp wood and soft moss brushing her cheek.
The pain in her ankle had dulled—Voltaro’s healing energy had stabilized it enough for her to stand, but she was far from recovered.
Her golden eyes fluttered open, meeting the gentle morning light filtering through the cracked canopy of Aldrune Forest.
She wasn’t alone.
Voltaro knelt nearby, checking the strap of his gauntlet. Raven stood behind him, leaning on his sword with a quiet readiness. Both men had kept watch through the night, not letting even a breath of danger approach the girl.
When Selena stirred, Voltaro turned.
“You’re awake,” he said, his tone calm but warm.
She blinked, confused for a moment. “Did you… stay here until morning?”
Voltaro nodded. “You were unconscious. We couldn’t risk moving you until the hunters stopped searching.”
Her heart tightened. She swallowed, looking away. “I… I caused trouble…”
“No,” Voltaro answered immediately, his voice firm. “You survived. And now we move.”
He rose and offered her his hand. Selena hesitated, then accepted it, her fingers trembling. Voltaro helped her stand. Her leg wobbled slightly, and he steadied her.
“You’re safe with us,” he told her.
Selena lowered her gaze, a quiet whisper escaping her. “Thank you…”
Raven cleared his throat lightly. “We should go. There’s something strange happening deeper in the forest. I sensed movements—too many for a normal patrol.”
Selena stiffened. Her furred ears twitched.
“There’s a village not far from here,” she said softly. “My people… the ones who escaped the earlier raids. They… they tried to hide there.”
Voltaro’s expression hardened. “Take us there.”
Selena nodded, though uncertainty clouded her eyes. “I don’t know how many are left.”
“Then we’ll find out,” Voltaro replied.
And so they set off—Selena leading the way, Voltaro beside her, Raven guarding the rear.
The deeper they walked, the more the forest changed. Trees once vibrant now sagged with decay. The air held the faint scent of rot mixed with desperation. Traces of long-dried blood stained stones and roots, the evidence of past hunts.
Selena’s shoulders tightened with every step.
Finally, the forest opened into a small clearing where the village lay—or what remained of it.
Simple wooden huts, woven from bark and vine, stood in crooked lines.
Smoke rose weakly from a few chimneys. The ground was littered with empty baskets and torn nets.
Children, thin as twigs, peered out from behind walls, their large eyes filled with fear.
Adults—gaunt, hollow-cheeked, barely clothed—moved with the slow, exhausted shuffle of people who had eaten too little for too long.
Selena froze.
Her breath trembled.
“This… this wasn’t how it used to be…” she whispered. “They’re starving…”
Voltaro scanned the village with a somber expression. The people looked half-dead. Some were leaning against worn pillars, too weak to stand for long. Others lay on makeshift beds of straw, their ribs clearly visible beneath their pale skin.
A few elders sat in a circle near an extinguished fire pit. Their eyes, though clouded, held the weight of witness—they had seen the fall of their home, the destruction of their lives, and now the slow fading of their people.
Voltaro approached the closest elder.
The old demi-human lifted his gaze weakly. His fur was patchy, his once-strong arms now thin. When he attempted to stand, Voltaro gently motioned for him to remain seated.
“What happened here?” Voltaro asked quietly.
The elder coughed, his voice cracked from dehydration. “Our food stores were burned when the merchants attacked… We hid in the deep woods after that. But the forest’s spirits are fading. The soil is dry. We cannot hunt; our people are taken the moment they step outside the clearing.”
Another elder spoke, her voice barely more than a whisper. “Every day we lose someone. Hunger… illness… the cold nights. We… we don’t know how long we can last.”
Selena stepped closer, her eyes watering. “Elder Maruin… it’s me. Selena.”
The old man’s eyes widened. “Selena…? You survived?”
She nodded, tears streaking her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I ran. I couldn’t save any of you.”
The elder shook his head slowly. “Child… you lived. That is enough.”
Voltaro looked around at the frail bodies, the dimming hope in their eyes.
Twenty. Perhaps more scattered, but only twenty remained here.
Demi-humans who once thrived in harmony now stood at the edge of extinction.
Raven clenched his jaw. “Voltaro… they won’t last another week.”
Selena turned to Voltaro, desperation filling her voice. “Please… help them. Even if it’s just food… even if it’s only for a day…”
Voltaro looked at the starving villagers, then at Selena, then back toward the forest path they came from.
He made his decision.
“We’re taking all of you,” Voltaro declared.
Selena gasped softly. The elders blinked in disbelief. Some villagers shuffled out of their huts, startled by the sudden announcement.
“W-What?” Elder Maruin asked. “We cannot ask you for—”
Voltaro interrupted him. “This forest can no longer protect you. Eldrath will return. And the next time, they won’t leave any survivors.”
His voice rang through the clearing, strong but not harsh.
“I have a land—Ashenveli,” he continued. “A territory built to protect those who were harmed, broken, or abandoned. You will live there. Eat there. Rest there. No hunters will reach you. Not as long as I stand.”
Raven nodded with unwavering confidence. “He means it. We can protect you.”
Selena covered her mouth with shaking hands. For the first time since this nightmare began, hope flickered.
But some villagers looked hesitant.
One young man spoke weakly. “Why help us? What do you gain…?”
Voltaro did not hesitate.
“Because no one else will.”
Silence fell.
Slowly, one by one, the villagers’ expressions shifted—fear softening into fragile faith.
Selena approached Voltaro, her eyes glassy. “Thank you… Voltaro… I don’t know how to repay—”
“You don’t need to repay anything,” Voltaro said softly. “Just live.”
A single tear slipped from her eye.
Voltaro continued, raising his voice so all could hear. “Gather your belongings—whatever you can carry. We leave before noon.”
Raven surveyed the village. “There are injured who can’t walk.”
“Then we carry them,” Voltaro replied.
Selena’s ears twitched. “I’ll help pack the children’s things.”
Everything happened quickly after that.
Villagers moved weakly but urgently. They collected worn blankets, carved trinkets, tiny bundles of dried leaves used for healing, and a few handmade tools. The children clung to Selena, some crying softly as she reassured them that they were safe now.
Voltaro and Raven went from hut to hut, lifting the injured, helping the weak, and making sure no one was left behind.
An elderly woman tried to stand on her own but stumbled. Voltaro caught her, lifting her gently into his arms.
“Rest,” he said. “You’ll walk again once you’ve recovered.”
She nodded silently, tears sliding down her weathered cheeks.
Raven carried two children, one on each side, their thin arms wrapped around his neck. “Hang on,” he told them. “Ashenveli has food. Real food.”
Their eyes widened in disbelief.
Selena gathered a group of five small children around her, guiding them with gentle smiles despite her own injury.
Voltaro watched her quietly.
This girl, broken yet unyielding, still chose to protect others. He felt a sense of certainty settle in his chest.
Selena’s path and Ashenveli’s future were now intertwined.
When everything was finally ready, the twenty villagers stood at the edge of the clearing. Some looked back at their ruined homes with sorrow. Others simply looked forward, unable to bear another glance at the place where so many were lost.
Voltaro stepped to the front.
“Ashenveli is your new home,” he said. “Not as refugees. Not as slaves. But as people.”
Selena looked at him with quiet gratitude glowing in her golden eyes.
Then the group began their journey.
Voltaro led, clearing the path. Raven guarded the rear, watching for any sign of hunters. Selena stayed among the children, lending comfort and guiding their steps.
Hours passed.
The forest seemed to watch them go—its leaves rustling weakly, its branches creaking under the weight of centuries. The air felt heavy, as if the forest itself mourned its people.
At one point, Selena looked back.
“Will the forest survive without us?” she whispered.
Voltaro paused beside her. “One day, when you’re ready, we will return. And we’ll revive Aldrune together.”
Her breath caught. For a moment, pain and hope clashed in her expression.
Then she nodded slowly.
When they finally reached the outskirts of Aldrune and the treeline began to thin, the villagers gasped. The world outside the forest felt wide and intimidating after months of hiding.
Voltaro lowered the elder he carried into a cart Raven had prepared earlier.
“We’re halfway,” Raven said. “Another hour and we’ll reach Ashenveli.”
The villagers exchanged looks—fear, excitement, disbelief. Some children tugged on Selena’s hands, asking questions about what their new home would be like.
Selena turned to Voltaro.
“Why… why go this far for us?” she asked quietly.
Voltaro looked at her, then at the twenty fragile lives now under his protection.
His answer was simple.
“Because no kingdom should decide who deserves to live.”
Selena’s heart trembled.
She lowered her gaze, whispering, “I’ll… stay with you. I’ll help protect your home. And your people.”
Voltaro placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Then welcome to Ashenveli, Selena.”
She looked up, golden eyes shining.
And together, they continued onward—toward a future none of them had imagined, and toward a new dawn for Ashenveli.
Too be continue...