Chrysalis

Enid sighed as she stretched out her aching spine. She'd been on her feet for almost two days and she just wasn't as young as she used to be. If this catastrophe had occurred twenty years ago, she'd have been in much better shape for one, and Derrion would have still been with her.

Her heart panged as she thought of her departed husband. The memory of him still ached and she tried to avoid thinking of him too often. You could only prick your finger on a thorn so many times before you learn to stop poking.

She'd thought that with the disaster that had befallen her nation, and the hectic days that had followed, she wouldn't think of him much as she'd be occupied. And she had been occupied, to an absurd degree. Enid wasn't certain that even at the height of her trading enterprise that she'd ever worked this much. Despite the lack of rest, the endless list of problems that people insisted on dropping on her table, she found herself thinking of Derrion more and more.

He would have been the perfect person to lead these people.

His slow, warm smile, his quiet strength and the short cut hair that he never bothered to take of that hung in his eyes. Even as he aged he'd never lost his affable nature, able to talk to the powerful and the poor in exactly the same way with nobody taking offense.

A legend with the sword, able to unlock a rare class after years of training and delving, he'd achieved a level of skill that Liria had perhaps not seen since its founding. In this situation, his strength, his confidence and his compassion would have seen these people through, Enid had no doubt about that.

But they didn't have Derrion Ruther, the legendary sword demon, they had Enid Ruther, the merchant, and she was doing the best she could.

Straightening up, Enid spotted a figure in dark leathers at the end of the street and quickly called out.

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"Morrelia! Are you back!"

In answer to her call a hand was raised and soon the too serious face of the mercenary came into view.

holding up?" Morrelia

scowl off her face. Old she may be but she hated when the younger folk treated her as if she were made of porcelain. She'd been running trade caravans north to the Iron Kingdom before they'd even been

snapped, then sighed. "Sorry Morrelia, I'm a

leaned against the

holding up better than I am then, I'm absolutely exhausted. I swear you're made of something different, mana infused bones or something. How

"it may as well be me. Maybe what they say is true and people get

Morrelia chuckled.

drink to that" she groaned as she straightened up, "if we had any time. Have you seen Beyn? He was supposed to organise the next group heading

only just got back!" Enid protested, "aren't you the one pushing yourself too

pushing themselves harder than Enid was, it was Morrelia. Whilst Enid had been working non-stop, all she had to do was organise people, make decisions and calm tensions. The young mercenary had been fighting with the risk of death hanging over her head as she led the inexperienced villagers into the teeth of the Dungeon. During a wave no

look on Enid's face

are low level and to be

slowly. It was true. The people who had washed up in the village from destruction of Liria had proven to be resilient and driven

She sighed.

Beyn, I think

off through the village, frequently having stop as Enid shared an encouraging word with the people she came across. The smiths were still working hard, pounding the metal that had been dug up by workers three kilometres from the village and smelted at a

other senior members to allocate a parcel of land close to

in her mind

answer but

crowd around him, Enid recognised them as the next group to head to the Dungeon. They each had their

over you and encourage you to embrace the creed of his kind. Selflessness, cooperation and unrelenting, unwavering faith. With these virtues as our