Hey there girls, I saw the smoke rising from my cabin a few miles away, are any of you injured?

Yes, I am sorry for your loss girls. I lost my wife and kids to those savages too a few years ago.

Those savages didn't touch any of you did they?

Oh thank god! Well it is nice to meet you ladies, my name is Vici. How old are you girls?

Well, I could use some women around the house and I did want to start a family again, so if all your girls are good with that, they you all are welcome to come and stay at my place? I have a nice cabin with farm land and animals, I've also built up the defenses over the years to keep out those damned Indians.

So you girls are good with coming to be my women, working around the house and land, and starting a family eventually?

Very good girls! Well, let us grab what we can of your stuff and bring it back to my place shale we? It is a good distance away.

The Journey to Vici’s Cabin

The dense forest closed in around them, the towering trees and thick underbrush nearly swallowing the narrow trail they followed. The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the uneven ground as they made their way back to Vici’s cabin. The air was still and damp, filled with the scent of pine and the earthy musk of the woods. Vici led the way, his footsteps sure and steady, though his mind was far from calm. Every now and then, his eyes flicked back toward the girls, and he would check over his shoulder, the rifle slung across his back a constant reminder of the dangers they had just fled.

Liora walked closely behind him, her eyes distant, haunted by the memories of what she had just witnessed—the flames, the cries, the bodies of her parents and neighbors left to the mercy of the raiders. Her sisters, Elara and Fyn, were both silent, their faces pale and eyes wide, as though the horrors they had endured were too much to fully comprehend. But Liora knew they could never forget.

They had lost everything. And the forest felt colder now, as if it too mourned for them.

Vici didn’t speak much during the walk. He was used to solitude and the weight of loss, though this was a different kind of grief. His wife, Rebecca, and his two children—Jonah and Clara—had been taken from him by raiders, killed in their own home years before. He had buried his grief in the land, in the work of rebuilding his life. But there was a rawness to the loss that had never fully healed. He looked at the girls now—so much like his own children had been—and he felt an unfamiliar tug in his chest. They were now his responsibility, whether he had wanted it or not.

The quiet of the forest was broken only by the distant call of birds, the crack of a twig beneath their feet, and the occasional low murmur of Vici’s voice. He would check over his shoulder and ask if they were alright, but his concern was short-lived, quickly turning back to the task at hand: getting them safely back to the cabin. Vici’s Cabin

When the trees finally began to thin, and the clearing came into view, the sight of the cabin brought a sense of relief that washed over them all. The small log cabin stood solid against the wilds, its stone chimney puffing out a thin wisp of smoke into the twilight sky. It was modest but strong—built for one person, perhaps two, but now it would house three more. A barn stood nearby, a place to shelter the animals Vici had raised over the years, and behind the cabin, the land stretched out, covered in wild grasses and scrub. There were fields, too—fields that Vici had cultivated with his own hands, the land his sole companion since the death of his family.

The cabin was a refuge, but it was also a reminder of everything he had lost. Vici had built it alone, each log placed by his hands, each corner squared with meticulous care. There was a stone fireplace inside, its hearth always ready to offer warmth against the cold nights. The roof was thatched with care, though it had weathered over time, and the rough-hewn logs that made up the walls were solid and secure, designed to protect against the elements and whatever threats the wilderness might send.

As Vici approached the door, he opened it carefully and stepped aside to let the girls pass. They had walked in silence most of the way, but now, standing before the cabin, the reality of their new life seemed to settle in.

“This is it,” Vici said quietly. His voice was steady, but there was a heaviness behind it. The door creaked as it swung open, revealing the modest interior. The fire crackled in the hearth, its warmth a welcome sight after the long, cold trek through the forest.

The cabin was simple but functional. A rough wooden table sat in the center of the room, its surface worn smooth from years of use. A bed—small but sturdy—was set against one wall, covered with blankets and furs to keep the chill at bay. There were a few shelves with simple wooden cups and plates, some tools, and a long rifle propped by the wall near the door. The smell of burning wood mingled with the scent of stew that simmered on the fire.

“This will be your home now,” Vici continued, his voice quieter than before. “I’m sorry there’s not more to offer, but there’s food, and there’s warmth. We’ll manage.”

Liora looked at the cabin, her eyes taking in every detail. She had no idea what tomorrow would bring, or how they would adjust to this new life, but for the first time in days, there was a sense of safety—of something resembling stability. It was small, but it was theirs now. Settling In

After a brief moment of silence, Vici moved toward the hearth and stirred the pot of stew that had been simmering for hours. He didn’t ask if they were hungry—they must have been starving—but he knew better than to rush them. They needed time. Time to absorb everything. Time to heal.

Liora sat down by the fire, the warmth against her chilled skin a small comfort. Elara and Fyn sat beside her, huddling close together, the three of them finding solace in each other’s presence.

Vici glanced at them as he poured the stew into bowls and handed them over. He could tell they were exhausted, both physically and emotionally, but they had made it through the worst of it—for now.

“This cabin’s been empty too long,” he muttered, almost to himself. “But it won’t be empty anymore.”

Liora took the bowl from his hands, her fingers trembling slightly. She didn’t know what to say, but her eyes met his, and for a moment, there was understanding between them—an acknowledgment of what had been lost and what still remained.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, her voice small but filled with sincerity.

Vici simply nodded, his gaze moving toward the fire.

“You’ll be safe here,” he said, though the words felt heavy, burdened by their shared history of loss. “As long as I’m alive, you’ll be safe.”

And in that moment, the quiet of the cabin seemed to offer them something they hadn’t had in days: peace.

The fire crackled and popped, casting dancing shadows on the walls, as the night stretched on, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the girls—Liora, Elara, and Fyn—allowed themselves to rest, wrapped in the fragile hope that tomorrow might be a little brighter than the day before.