Sanctuary: Safe Haven

Canna didn't know how long he had been asleep when he finally stirred, but judging by the angle of the sun, he guessed it had been almost a full day. The sanctuary was still and quiet, a peaceful lull after the chaos of the recent battle. As he shifted slightly, Canna felt a small weight pressed against his side.

He glanced down and saw Mira nestled beside him, her head resting comfortably on his shoulder.

Canna's heart warmed at the sight. Mira had come a long way since the day he found her, a scared, malnourished girl who had known nothing but suffering. She had been wary of everyone, trusting no one except Canna, the one who had saved her. Now, she was blossoming—like a flower stubbornly growing in a harsh desert.

She was more confident, more assured, and had found her place among the sanctuary's inhabitants.

Canna couldn't help but smile, but the image would have been far more wholesome if it weren't for the fact that Mira, like the rest of them, was still smeared with dried blood, her white robes stained and tattered. Even her face bore the remnants of the brutal fight.

Canna carefully slid out from under her, making sure not to wake her as he stood and stretched, feeling the pleasant pull of his muscles. His other arm had fully regenerated, and he flexed it experimentally, doing a few light stretches to test its strength. It felt good, almost as if the injury had never happened.

He looked around, taking in the state of his people. The adult fighters had only taken a brief rest before heading off to clean themselves up and get some proper sleep. Meanwhile, the children lay sprawled all over the grass, exhausted from their roles in the battle. Most were still asleep, some snoring softly, others mumbling incoherent words as they dreamed.

Like Mira, they too were covered in dried blood, dirt, and grime, their once white robes now a patchwork of battle scars.

Canna chuckled to himself, the sight both amusing and heartwarming. His people had fought hard, and they deserved every second of rest. But there was no denying it—they all stank. They were in desperate need of a good wash, and Canna knew just how to wake them up.

He raised his hand, mana swirling around his palm in a vibrant, crackling display. The air around him buzzed with energy as he focused, holding the spell for a few moments longer than necessary, just for the added effect. The adults, who had already cleaned up and were watching from a distance, smirked knowingly at what was about to happen.

With a sudden motion, Canna unleashed a large, deafening bolt of lightning that ripped through the air with an ear-splitting crack. The sound was enough to startle anyone awake, and sure enough, every single person who had been asleep on the grass shot up, weapons in hand, eyes wide with alarm.

Some of the younger ones fumbled with their swords, while others were poised to attack, their faces a mix of confusion and comical panic.

Canna couldn't help but burst into laughter, and soon the adults joined in, chuckling at the sight of their fellow warriors looking like startled chickens. "Relax!" Canna called out, still grinning. "You're safe. But look at you all—caked in blood and dirt! You're a mess."n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

One by one, the confusion melted into sheepish smiles, and weapons were lowered. Some of the children groaned, realizing they had fallen for Canna's prank yet again. Canna gestured toward the sanctuary's wash areas. "Come on now, we all stink! Go on, get cleaned up and change into fresh robes. Those are your official uniforms when we go outside the sanctuary, and we can't have you looking like this.

Hurry along now!"

With some playful grumbling and a few lingering yawns, the inhabitants began to move, heading toward the sanctuary's water sources. There was a sense of renewed energy among them, as if Canna's little wake-up call had breathed new life into their tired bones. Laughter and chatter filled the air as they splashed water on each other, washing away the grime of battle and reclaiming a bit of normalcy.

Canna watched them for a moment longer, feeling a swell of pride. These were his people, his family, and he would do anything to keep them safe. Once satisfied that they were all headed in the right direction, he set off on his rounds through the sanctuary, checking on every corner of his domain.

He greeted the healers, who were still tirelessly tending to the wounded, and exchanged a few words with the cooks who were preparing meals to nourish the weary.

He stopped by the training grounds, where a few of his more stubborn subordinates were already practicing their forms, unwilling to let even a day go by without honing their skills. Canna offered a few words of encouragement, making sure everyone felt seen and valued. The sanctuary was not just a place of refuge but a community, and every small interaction mattered.

As his rounds came to an end, Canna's thoughts turned to the final task he had to complete—seeing Tonitrum. The ancient dragon had fulfilled his favor, and now Canna needed to report back. He couldn't say he was looking forward to it. Tonitrum's presence was always overwhelming, and Canna preferred to keep his interactions with the dragon to a minimum.

But a promise was a promise, and Canna knew better than to leave any debts unpaid, especially when it came to beings as powerful as Tonitrum.

Canna sighed, mentally preparing himself as he made his way toward the portal to Tonitrum. The air seemed to grow heavier with every step, as if the dragon's aura reached out even before he came into view. Canna squared his shoulders, resolving to make this visit as brief as possible.

He would thank Tonitrum, fulfill his obligations, and then, hopefully, not have to deal with the dragon again for the foreseeable future. Explore stories on empire