Hainf and Rolint sat on two beds separated from each other, gazing at one another in silence.
It was a small wooden cabin, but comfortable enough. The interior was clean and tidy, with carpets spread across the floor. Woolen tapestries hung on the walls, depicting abstract scenery from the Grahall Mountains. The workers had planted lilies of the valley on the windowsill, and the delicate white flowers poked their heads over the edge, swaying gently in the night breeze.
These little flowers, so difficult to find in this season, were nothing unusual in the Black Forest. In the Ring of Trade Winds, as long as the forest's "long winter" had not arrived, all kinds of flowers that bloomed between spring and summer could be found throughout the year.
Hainf gazed out the window. In the distant darkness, a stream of light gathered, as if stars had fallen to the ground, offering a little warmth amid the endless blackness. Those were the town's lights. The locals had named this newly emerging town "Sarnan," meaning jewel of light, to describe its appearance in the night.
The town had flourished because of mining. People from all over the world came here and settled down, forming its present scale. But now, there were not only refugees here. Gold prospectors and merchants had also been drawn here, and spontaneous markets had appeared within the densely populated settlement. Around Sarnan, scattered villages had emerged throughout the Black Forest. Perhaps in less than ten years, this place would become another Fir Territory.
However, the ones who still imposed restrictions here were the druids of the Kalanga Mountains. The druids safeguarded the flame and restrained humanity from exploiting the forest excessively.
"That fellow... Where is that wizard planning to take us?" After a period of silence, Rolint finally