The small settlent of Jamica was quiet. Too quiet.
It had once been a lively place, its people surviving through hunting, small gardens, and whatever they could trade with passing travelers.
But now... it was a settlent on the edge of collapse.
Only about one hundred and fifty people remained.
That number, on the surface, didn’t sound bad. But survival wasn’t just about numbers.
Jamica had no real hunters left—too many had been killed by beasts or monsters during the last few winters.
The soil around the settlent had grown thin and tired, refusing to yield enough crops.
And the nearest settlent that had the ability to share food with them was too far away. Journeys there and back were dangerous, long, and costly.
The council of Jamica had been eting daily, trying to find solutions, but every day their etings ended with the sa result: silence.
This day was no different.
Inside a cramped hall built from worn timber, smoke curling from the fireplace in the center, the elder of Jamica, a man with wrinkled skin and tired eyes, sat before a group of younger council mbers.
His na was Eddrin, and though age had weakened his body, his mind was still sharp.
He looked around at the worried faces before him and sighed.
"Perhaps, it is ti to accept that Jamica cannot last. We have pushed for too long. The food is running out. The children are growing thin. If we stay... our end will not be far away."
He said slowly, his voice hoarse.
The younger council mbers stiffened.
One of them, a hot-headed man in his twenties, slamd his hand against the table.
"Leave? Elder, where would we even go? There is nowhere safe! Do you want us to walk blindly into the forests, with beasts on all sides? We will be slaughtered before we find another settlent!"
Another, a young woman, shook her head in frustration.
"Even if we leave, who would take us in? A hundred and fifty mouths to feed? No one would welco us. We’d be seen as a burden."
The elder closed his eyes for a mont. He understood their words. He agreed with them, even.
And yet...
"Perhaps, we must at least try. If not for ourselves, then for the children. For the sick, the weak, the ones who cannot hunt. If we do nothing, their deaths will be certain. At least if we seek another, more prosperous settlent, we may find a chance."
He said again, quieter this ti,
The younger council mbers exchanged uneasy glances. No one spoke for a long while. The crackling fire filled the silence.
At last, one of the younger n muttered.
"Then... are you saying we should disband Jamica?"
The elder did not answer directly. He only sighed, shoulders sagging under the weight of his people’s survival.
Before the discussion could continue, the wooden doors of the hall creaked open. A villager hurried in, panting, his face pale with unease.
"Elder! Council! There are... there are guests."
The man called.
"Guests? We can barely feed ourselves. Tell them to leave!"
One of the council mbers echoed sharply. His eyes narrowed.
"Agreed! We have nothing to offer outsiders. If they want trade, they will be disappointed. Send them away before they demand more than we can give."
Another young voice chid in angrily.
Eddrin raised a hand, calming them. His gaze turned to the villager.
"Guests, you say? Who are they? Why are they here?"
The villager hesitated. His voice lowered as though he wasn’t sure if what he was about to say was good or bad.
"They... they brought food, Elder. Food and supplies. Enough for several days, maybe longer."
The council fell into stunned silence.
"Food? They brought food?"
One of the young n repeated, blinking.
The villager nodded.
"Yes. And they wish to et with you—the elder and the council. They say they have co to speak of an agreent."
Suspicion imdiately colored the room.
Eddrin’s brows furrowed deeply. It made no sense. Strangers appearing out of nowhere, bringing food of their own accord?
There was no kindness in this world without a price. And yet, to turn them away without even listening...
He rubbed his beard slowly, weighing the decision. Finally, he said.
"We will et them. If they truly brought food, then hearing them out costs us nothing. Even if they are deceitful, our people need what they offer."
The younger council mbers looked uneasy but did not argue. Hunger made even the most stubborn listen.
Monts later, Eddrin and the council left the hall and stepped outside. The cold air bit at their skin as they walked toward the edge of the settlent where the strangers waited.
What they saw only deepened their confusion.
There were five of them in total. Two adults and three children. Their clothing was clean, well-kept, and unlike anything Jamica’s people had seen in years.
One of the adults stood silently, watching the surroundings with calm eyes, while the other carried bundles wrapped in cloth—supplies, unmistakably.
But it wasn’t the adults who stepped forward when the council approached.
It was one of the children.
The smallest of them.
He couldn’t have been more than ten years old. His fra was small, his face pale, but his golden eyes glead with a calm confidence that did not belong to a child.
He looked at the elder and the council, then gave a small bow.
"My na is Lucian. I’ve co to make an agreent with you."
The boy said softly, his voice carrying just enough strength to reach everyone.
The council mbers stiffened.
An agreent? From a child?
So of the younger council imdiately bristled in anger.
"Is this a joke? Elder, they mock us! Sending a boy forward—"
But Lucian raised his hand gently, cutting off their anger with nothing but his presence.
"In addition to food and supplies, I wish to offer you sothing greater. Safety. Prosperity. A chance for Jamica not just to survive... but to grow."
He continued, his tone calm and deliberate.
His words silenced them. The boy was too composed, too deliberate.
The elder narrowed his eyes, suspicion mingling with cautious hope.
Food was one thing. But safety? Prosperity? No one in this world offered such promises lightly.
Yet the boy stood there, waiting, as if completely sure that sooner or later, they would listen.
For Jamica, a settlent on the brink of death, the arrival of these five strangers was not just coincidence.
It was the beginning of a decision that would determine whether they faded away into history... or stepped into a new future.
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