117Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGjgabXA8FfCHAPTER 4
— THE WHISPERING FIELDS —
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Morning light slips through Ana’s cottage window, warm and thin, brushing across Metro’s face. He blinks himself awake, the memory of the night still clinging to him like a fading spell.
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The fire has burned down to soft ash.
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Paul’s chair is empty.
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Ana moves quietly around the room. Humming under her breath as she works, as if nothing in the world had been disturbed.
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Metro sits up slowly, breath steadying, the thoughts of the crazy nightmare, hours ago, settles deep inside of him.
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A new day has begun.
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Ana catches Metro’s glance towards the door, but says nothing. She slides a satchel across here chest from the table.
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Ana:
“The time has come…
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‘Are you ready?”
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Metro rises, boots touching the floor. The past few days flash before him, Theron, Veronica, the bargain. His hand goes to the pouch at his belt. The seeds rest inside, small, silent, heavy.
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He tightens the cord.
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METRO:
“I am.”
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Outside morning light stretches across the waking village. The road to Theron estates waits in quiet stillness. Metro steps forward with purpose.
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Ana steps outside beside Metro, the cool air brisk and clean.
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Sally whickers softly as he approaches, and soon the trio are moving through the waking village.
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They trot through the quiet market area, beneath the rising sun.
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They find Blake setting up his stall. He looks steadier today, though a faint tremor still clings to his hands.
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Metro dismounts Sally, while Ana stays put, mounted, watching the two from horseback.
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He greets Blake with a handshake, and then grabs zander roots from Blakes stall, their sharp scent cutting through the market air.
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Metro:
“Blake, I heard you have some old maps... treasure maps, any for growth enchantment gems?”
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Blake’s eyes go wide.
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Blake: (breathes)
“The Green Emerald”
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He digs under the counter and pulls out a brittle roll parchment.
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“Rumors only, the maps are rough, But they say that once acquired, the gem makes the earth come alive.”
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He names a price and Metro pays it, tucking the map in his satchel.
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Metro:(speaking quietly)
“Great,”
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“Now the real reason I'm here...”
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“I need your help setting up the estates today, you’ll be able to come back to the stall, but the timing is urgent now. I need to register overseers for the project.”
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Metro stares, waiting.
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Blake hesitates, glancing at his stall, fear and loyalty wrestling in his gaze.
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Finally he exhales.
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Blake:
“Alright, but my stall comes.”
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With practiced motions, he folds the canvas and grips the wooden handles, the whole structure shifts into a handcart.
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He strains to pull it.
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Metro:(steps closer grabbing a yoke from Sal)
“Hold up”
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“No need to tire yourself.”
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He inspects the front beam.
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“We’ll hook it to Sally, with the yoke.”
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Blake looks surprised, then relieved.
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Together they fasten the cart to her harness. Sally stomps once, then settles with Ana holding on to Metro while he rides
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Blake jogs alongside his cart.
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The three of them leave the empty, misty market behind them. Metro leads the way holding his horse’s leash steady as they move down the road together. Three good friends.
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Elven gardener, human merchant, and a half breed —
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— The sign of King Theron's lodge rises ahead of the morning sun.
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Blake's nervous glances are met by Metro's side eye. He tries to focus on his cart, the wheels creaking softly as Sally pulls with patience. He checks the binding every few steps, half expecting an imminent collapse of his goods.
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As they near the main doors, Veronica steps out, her dark hair and gold braids stark against the pale stone. A flicker of surprise crosses her face at the sight of Blake and the cart, but she mask's it quickly.
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Veronica: (gazing at Blake)
"You must be eager to begin..."
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She turns and leads them inside.
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They move through the grand hall, its towering tapestries and vaulted ceilings reminding Metro of the powers he's aligning too.
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Blake slows, taking it all in, his eyes drifting from polished floors to carved pillars to the faint glow of distant chandeliers.
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The climb to King Theron's office is quieter. The sounds of the Lodge fade with each step. At the top Veronica stops before the ornate door carved with twisting vines and symbols.
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She knocks the handle once, the door already cracked open.
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Then a sharp familiar voice calls from within:
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Theron:
"I'm waiting!"
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Ana, Blake, and Metro follow Veronica inside the dim lit office room, brightened slightly by a few lanterns and pale light from tall windows.
Theron sits forward, posture sharp, eyes fixed forward on Metro's bag.
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Traeven stands behind him — disciplined stance, hands held behind his back, eyes lowered in advisor calm.
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The doors are closed behind them by a wigged servant. Its shutting echoes inside the room.
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Traeven lifts his gaze. A stillness hits. For a heartbeat, Traeven's face breaks — barely. — Recognition /a flash of hurt / a memory buried years ago. His posture tightens, and then resets.
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Metro's expression stays calm, unreadable. Only a faint gleam in his eye acknowledges the past.
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Ana senses the shift.
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Blake feels the tension.
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Theron doesn't notice.
Behind his massive desk, Theron, twirls a half peeled grape in between his fingers. His sharp calculating eyes sweep over the group, lingering on Blake with amused glint.
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Theron: (pops the grape in his mouth)
"Ah, Metro, my budding botanist!
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Theron boom's laughing—
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"And you've brought an entourage! Excellent, Efficient!"
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He pops another grape into his mouth, chewing as he settles back.
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"Now then, let's get to the crux of your new abode. '
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He reclines comfortably.
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"The property Veronica informed you is rather rustic,
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(beat)
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‘About a hundred acres in the Whispering Woods, a spacious castle fortress with a quaint two bedroom chamber, and extra flowing quarters, the space is perfectly cozy."
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He gestures lazily.
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"Of course, the castle wall structure surrounds the Whispering Fields — forty acres, plenty of land to work."
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(gazing to Ama & Blake)
"A Constant presence will be required, Day and Night."
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Another wave of his graped sticky hand.
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"Security is paramount. We also want to be discreet."
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(crooked smile)
"Seventy five-men will be assigned to the Castle, to scout the land, patrolling, and turning watch.
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(wields a grin, winks at his daughter.)
"That should stop the plunderers from invading our flower."
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Veronica stands stiffly by the tall window, she rolls her eyes at his theatrics before a composed expression returns.
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For a moment, a faint white flame glints in Metro's eye—soft, controlled, nothing like the surge from before. Just enough for the room to shift. A quiet tightening in the air. He steps forward.
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METRO: (voice steady)
"We're going to need to gather supplies with no restraint, your carriages and wagons, for transportation, and at harvest we'll need at least two to five hundred men, preferably. We might need to fortify the place... We’ll need extra hands..."
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Traeven studies Metro in silence, catching the faint white flicker in his eye. The request doesn't surprise him — supplies, archers, traps, fortification, it's exactly how Metro thinks. Efficient. Uncompromising. But learning it here, under Theron's roof, knots something in Traevens stomach. He knows the scale, the danger, the weight. And still part of him can't kill off feelings to step in...
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Theron listens with a slow, thoughtful nod, twirling a grape stem between his fingers like a royal scepter.
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Theron lets out a soft chuckle — the kind that's friendly on the surface.
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THERON:
"Anything your team needs, request it by raven, it will be loaded and on its way by carriage, sunrise and sundown. To and Fro. Free transport. No limits."
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(A beat)
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"my drivers will hate you, but that's the cost of progress"
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(Theron smiles)
"You have over a dozen farmhands, Extra muscle in soldiers if you need help building fortifications, or, whatever helps you sleep at night."
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He settles back, satisfied, like a man who enjoys the sound of his own generosity.
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"And when the weight settles, you'll be compensated.
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Theron:(nods)
Very well, I won't take up any more time. Move along now, we'll meet in a few weeks.
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The black wig opens the door.
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Metro nods in agreement, turning away.
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— Scene fades —
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Lodge — Hallway corridor
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Metro and his friends' footsteps echo softly alongside polished stone. Blake walks stiffly behind, uneasy through the lodge's quiet halls, his eyes clashing from tapestries to encrypted carved pillars, like each one could be judging him.
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Ana stays close to Metro — steady and silent.
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Traeven follows from a distance.
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Veronica leads the group with sharp confidence, her stride unbroken as the group moves deeper in the building.
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— LODGE COURTYARD —
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Cold air settles over the courtyard as the group steps outside. Guards move with still purpose, tightening straps, checking the wheels. Two carriages wait, lanterns glowing in the foggy mist of morning.
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Warm breath rolls from Sally's nostrils. Metro adjusts her harness, giving her neck a calm pat.
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Ana climbs into the first carriage.
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Traeven stands a few paces away, eyes locked on Metro — not hiding it.
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Blake lingers near the entrance.
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Veronica steps into his path.
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Veronica:
"Hey, hold up"
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She studies him — one glance sharp — Knowing.
"Your pocket, what's in it?"
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Blake jolts, hand flying in his pocket.
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Blake: "O-ugh — this is.... a script. I mean a scroll. I mean — map."
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(laughs once, too loud)
"It's a treasure map. A copy of the one Metro has."
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His smile twitches uncontrollably, as he grips his forehead with one hand.
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"It's for the green emerald."
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— switch Scene –
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Traeven vs Metro —
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Traeven's voice breaks the cold air.
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"Where did you go, Metro?"
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Metro keeps his hands on Sally, eyes forward, set on the dirt.
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Metro:
"I escaped with my life. You know that, we were in too deep, and I told you I wanted out."
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Traeven lets out a slow breath, eyes looking at the sky, and then back at Metro.
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Traeven: (faint, crooked smile)
"You call that getting out?"
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(steps closer, down courtyard steps)
"You always did run cleaner than the rest of us."
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(voice dropping)
"Funny… I don't remember you warning me."
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Metro finally looks up, meeting Traeven's eyes.
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He steps in just a little, head bowed in that gentle, humble way that's become a part of him now. There's a faint shimmer in his gaze — not masked, not magic, just spirit.
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METRO:
"I cared about everyone… especially you."
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(Lets it hang slightly)
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"I wanted a better life. A fresh start. I only want to make amends for what's been broken."
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Traeven's expression tightens — not anger, not jealous — just the truth he's carried alone.
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He holds Metro's gaze.
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Traeven:
"You always gave your best for everyone…
So why does it feel like you robbed me?"
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Metro holds Traeven's eye, the spirit still faintly seen in his eyes.
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METRO: (voice soft, steady)
"You're my brother, but we both have moved on. I'm walking my path.
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(beat)
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‘I'm going to head out now, if you want to catch up sometime, you know where to find me."
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He watches Metro turn away, towards the carriage.
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No anger.
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No plea.
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Just the truth.
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Traeven: (monotone)
"I do know where to find you."
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— MOVEMENT —MORNING GRASSLAND TRAIL —
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As the vehicle leaves the cobble streets and slips into the dappled forest canopy, the world softens into rhythm — the creak of the wheels, the hush of the leaves, the muted thuds of hooves. The chariot guides smoothly along the road. Its polished wood catches beams of light under towering trees.
Inside, plush cushions feel way too soft for the weight of what they're carrying. Blake sits stiffly among the luxury, bow clutched tight, quivers rattling faintly in their box with each bump. He looks painfully out of place.— Behind them Sally trots faithfully, tethered to the back, her steady pace matching the chariot's guide.
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Across from Metro, Veronica sits with her usual poised composure. After a brief moment, she turns towards him, curiosity softening her expression.
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Veronica:
"So this treasure map you mentioned — my father's men are thorough. If any such thing existed, it would have found its way into my family's hands already."
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She studies him carefully.
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"What makes this one so special?"
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Metro exhales through his nose, a faint smile tugging.
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(voice low)
METRO:
"Are you trying to steal our map?"
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(A beat)
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“...I guess we'll need luck."
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He shifts his gaze to Blake, who immediately tenses.
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"Why'd you tell her about that?"
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Blake's shoulders rise up to his ears.
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Blake:
"I — I didn't tell her! She just… looked at me…"
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Blake gives up, shoulders slump, looking downward.
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Veronica's lips curl satisfied.
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Veronica:
"Some things don't need to be stolen."
"They reveal themselves."
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She keeps her posture perfect, eyes flickering briefly towards Ana—before settling back to Metro.
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"Is this a private adventure? I don't want to get in the way…"
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(looks briefly at Ana)
"I'm not here to cause trouble."
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Ana doesn't look at her. She keeps her eyes on the passing trees, voice calm and steady.
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ANA:
"Metro carries enough weight. Let us not add more…"
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Metro looks at Ana first — a soft, grateful glance — then at the others.
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METRO:
"Thank you guys, I've asked a lot out of all of you."
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(A beat)
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"I'm glad we're here together. It's like being with family, that's all I ever wanted. You guys are basically it for me."
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A small smile touches his face as he turns to the window, watching the drifting sky.
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"I've been alone a long time now, and learned a lot, to stand on my own,to take care of myself, and others.
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(brief pause)
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To respect myself, by discipline, and charity. Still pressing forward with others always."
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(Big smile)
He breathes out calmly and honestly.
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"That's why I'm doing this.
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(beat)
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I'm nervous, but I believe in us."
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Metro looks over to Ana for a moment, the forest light moves over her face — calm, unreadable, steady. He reaches out and touches her hand gently. Ana turns her eyes towards him. Metro holds eye contact.
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Metro:
"All this wouldn't mean anything, if you weren't here with me, Ani"
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Metro puts his hands on his knees, straightening his posture. He looks at all of them. Blake, Ana, Veronica — his family.
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A warmth rises in him, something from before the world hardened him.
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"And to you guys… My trusted comrades!’
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Metro tries to look noble — but the grin breaks through.
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"Salutations!"
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He raises his hands, then keeps the right floating.
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"I vow to defend… to help, and to nurture my brethren, to uphold all righteousness / to uplift the weak, and to mend the broken hearts, at all times!"
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The energy builds in him, the boy he used to be bursting through. He throws his hands up,
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"HURRAAY!"
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His voice echoes inside the carriage's boxed frame.
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Blake jumps, Veronica blinks startled. Ana's lip twitches — close to a smile. Metro laughs out loud.
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Scene fades-
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— THE LODGE — THERON'S OFFICE —
— late morning —
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Theron's office glows with cold blue fire. The air hums with a quiet menace — the kind only Theron can make feel casual.
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Theron flips through the ledger, amused.
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Theron: (eyes low)
"Old suppliers are drying up. New buyers are crawling out of the dirt. Everyone wants a taste of the future."
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(low, dark chuckle)
"Fortunately… the future is still in my hands."
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Traeven steps forward, sharp, but smoothly.
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Traeven:
"And Metro is a part of that future?"
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Theron pauses mid-page.
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Theron:
"Ah, you noticed."
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Traeven's eyes circle, his look respectful, but piercing.
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Traeven: (staring at Theron)
"Your moving resources. Re-assigning men, Redirecting shipments from our watch post suddenly…"
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Traeven looks deeply into Theron, but it goes unnoticed. Theron pours himself a drink, red juice swirling it with theatrical flair.
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Theron:
"Metro carries a novelty. A strain that could reshape markets and legacies."
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He raises his glass to himself. Traeven tightens.
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Traeven:
"And Veronica?"
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Theron laughs, sharp, delighted.
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Theron:
"She'll be watching over the project…"
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Traeven: (turns more directly) (voice drops)
"Wouldn't it be wise to send someone else besides her, someone with military experience perhaps?"
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Theron: (waves away the suggestion)
"Don't worry, I'll double the troops before harvest… I need him supervised, under my wing for now."
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Traeven: (voice drops, more charismatic)
"And if he refuses to cooperate…"
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Theron grins, wolfish.
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Theron:
"Then we make the offer more appealing."
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Traeven stands perfectly still.
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Traeven:
"Understood, my lord."117Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3JC8NRHfn6
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