Elian

Muspill is sitting between his father and Lucie, his girlfriend. He observes the stranger with fine features standing near the group. He turns to his father, speaking in a low voice.

Muspill: Father, who is this man? It's hard to believe seeing a new face in the village after Tyler's arrival a few weeks ago...

Meroll nods, his gaze shifting between his son and the young man with curly hair.

Meroll: Destiny seems to want to populate our village with new souls. We found Elian, this young man, three days ago. He was lying on the sand, completely unconscious. We brought him here to feed him, care for him, and so that he could regain his strength... He was in a very concerning state of weakness. And he needs to tell you his story; you're going to have a hard time believing him...

Muspill and Meroll stand up and go to meet Elian.

Meroll: Muspill, let me introduce Elian, who, as I was telling you, arrived at the village three days ago. Elian, this is Muspill, my son. If you have the strength, can you tell him your story?

Timid and hesitant, Elian addresses Muspill.

Elian: Nice to meet you, Muspill. My name is Elian Lumari. Where do I begin... I come from a small village south of Caltandria. I was a carawayn. But one day, while my caravan was heading towards Moln Pass, we were attacked by a band of raiders. There were four of us. All my companions were brutally executed. The raiders spared me only so that I could drive my cart full of goods towards Glimas, where their ship was waiting for them.

Elian lowers his head and pauses briefly before continuing his tale.

Elian: I thought they were going to finish me off once the goods were loaded, but Throlkad, their leader, decided otherwise. They took me too. And that is how I found myself on this island, in their secret camp—an ancient temple in the middle of the jungle.

As Elian pauses again, Muspill is stunned. Just like Tyler a few weeks ago, Elian comes from the temple ruins. But from the enemy camp! As if sensing his listener's surprise, Elian resumes speaking while staring at his two interlocutors.

Elian: Don't misunderstand me: I did not join their ranks. I was their prisoner and their slave, condemned to perform their lowest chores. I didn't know how much longer they would keep me alive before growing tired of me and deciding to slit my throat.

He lowers his eyes again.

Elian: And then an opportunity presented itself. It was a few days ago, perhaps a good week... While their leader had left for the continent, the camp was attacked by an opposing band, or whoever it was. It quickly turned into chaos. I decided to take my chance and flee the camp at full speed. That was when I felt a blade piercing my flesh. The pain was unbearable, but I kept running frantically without ever looking back. Then I felt my strength failing me, my consciousness darkening, but I knew I was now far from my captors. The sound of battle had completely vanished. I could breathe a little, but I think I lost consciousness.

The young man is shaken by a sort of spasm, then continues in a weary voice.

Elian: The rest is a blur to me. I feel like I managed to reach the coast and then followed it. But it's just a vague intuition. I must have walked for several days before arriving on this beach. The rest, you know...

Meroll speaks up.

Meroll: You were unconscious when we found you on the beach below the great dune. You were severely dehydrated, and your abdomen had a sharp-force wound, though it didn't worry us. You were mostly just exhausted. Thank you for your story, Elian. Enjoy the meal and continue to rest. As I already told you, you are welcome in the village; you can stay here as long as you like.

Elian smiles at the two men as they return to their table.

Muspill, lost in thought, speaks in a low voice to his father.

Muspill: This man's story is tragic, and he was very lucky. But something is wrong. He says the attack on the raiders' camp happened a few days ago, about a week. That's not possible; it has been almost three weeks since Tyler arrived at the village!

Meroll: I had the same thought, my son. I fear that young Elian has wandered for many days in the hostile nature of our island. But he doesn't remember it. Another fact corroborates this analysis: his wound.

Muspill: What do you mean?

Meroll: When we took him in, we discovered a wound that was certainly significant, but almost completely healed. So it's impossible for it to have happened a week ago. According to Barb, for it to be this well-healed, the wound would have to date back more than a month! And what's more, such healing seems unlikely without outside help for a young boy alone, injured, and wandering in the middle of the jungle. All of this is very mysterious indeed.

Muspill: Clearly, Nãkama is determined to keep us on our toes with many surprises!