Sanctuary: Safe Haven

The morning sun crept into the sky, casting light on a kingdom that had been shrouded in darkness for far too long. Canna's troops had been relentless, ensuring that no remnants of the Black Thorn remained. The once-powerful faction had been crushed, its influence eradicated. But now came the aftermath, the part Canna dreaded the most—dealing with the consequences.

Kael had already stepped in to ease the burden, managing the logistics, but at the end of the day, it was Canna who would have to make the final decisions.

Within the sanctuary, a flood of people had arrived—rescued slaves, victims, and survivors of the Black Thorn's tyranny. Many were disoriented, unsure of where they were or what to do. Their initial reactions were mixed, with some breaking down in tears, overwhelmed by their newfound freedom. But the sanctuary's members were there to help, offering comfort and showing them that they were safe.

Slowly, but surely, the rescued inhabitants began to accept that their nightmare was over.

For many, adjusting to their new lives would take time, but time was something the sanctuary had in abundance.

While most of the newly freed people were still coming to terms with their freedom, one stood out among them—a towering white minotaur. He was now in front of Canna, his head bowed so low that his horns almost touched the ground. Tears streamed down his face, his massive body trembling.

"Oh, great one," the minotaur began, his voice raw with emotion, "please save my people. I will offer you all that I am and devote myself to your cause, whatever it may be."

Canna, standing with his subordinates, watched the scene unfold. The minotaur, Sygon, had awakened in a panic earlier, thrashing about in confusion and rage. It had taken only a single growl from Aurelis, the golden lion, to calm him. After learning that he had been saved by Canna and his forces, the minotaur rushed to Canna's side, despite his injuries and exhaustion.

"I beg of you, great one," Sygon continued, his voice cracking, "save my people. I will do anything you ask, even if it means my death."

Canna looked over at his subordinates, his gaze settling on Mortem, seeking guidance.

"Master," Mortem began, his voice steady, "the minotaur race is known for its strength and pride. They do not bow easily, and they certainly do not submit willingly. Most minotaurs would rather die than become enslaved or serve someone they view as weaker. This," he gestured to the bowing figure, "is unusual."
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Sygon lifted his head slightly, meeting Mortem's eyes with a fiery defiance. "We minotaurs do not submit to the weak. I resisted them with every ounce of strength I had, even when they shackled me with a slave collar. But now I stand here, before the strongest being I have ever encountered." His gaze shifted back to Canna, filled with reverence. "I will follow you, oh great one, in whatever you ask."

Canna sighed softly. "Stand up," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "First, tell me your name and your story. I will do what I can to help you, but I need to know what has happened."

The minotaur slowly rose to his feet, towering over the others, his white fur stained with dirt and blood. He took a deep breath before speaking again.

"My name is Sygon," he began. "I come from a clan of minotaurs, a thousand strong, nestled in the Valley of Echoes. We were proud, strong, and we protected our people from any threat that came our way. But one fateful day, two powerful enemies clashed near our village. Their battle was fierce, and the earth trembled beneath their might.

One of them used a spell that shook the very ground, and the valley opened up, swallowing everything—our homes, our people, all of it."

Sygon's voice wavered, but he pressed on. "Our village was trapped deep beneath the earth, buried under rubble with no way out. We tried everything—using earth magic to carve a path to the surface—but it was no use. We were too deep. I was the only one who escaped, tasked with finding help."

His expression darkened as he recounted the next part of his journey. "During my travels, I encountered a foe stronger than I could have ever imagined. I fought with everything I had but was forced to retreat. I hid in a cave, badly wounded, and passed out. When I awoke, there was a slave collar around my neck, and I had been captured."

Sygon's fists clenched at the memory, his body shaking with anger. "They sold me to this filthy human group. I was used as nothing more than a beast of burden, forced to do physical labor. They tested my loyalty every day, whipping me, wounding me, trying to break me. But I never submitted. My people still needed me.

My only hope was to survive long enough to find someone strong enough to save them."

Sygon looked at Canna, his eyes filled with desperation and determination. "You are that person, oh great one. I beg you—save my people. They are still trapped beneath the earth, waiting for someone to free them."

Canna stood in silence, taking in the weight of Sygon's story. The minotaur had endured so much, yet still clung to hope. There was no hesitation in Canna's mind. This was something he could—and would—do.

"I will help you," Canna said, his voice firm. "Your people will be freed."

Tears welled up in Sygon's eyes once more, and he bowed again, this time in gratitude. "Thank you, oh great one. I will devote myself to you, for as long as I live."

Canna nodded, then turned to Mortem. "Prepare a team. We'll need to assess the valley and see what we're dealing with. We'll need earth mages, and possibly some of the sanctuary's strongest warriors."

Mortem nodded. "Consider it done, Master."

Sygon, now standing tall, wiped the tears from his face. "I will lead you to the valley myself. I know the way."

Canna smiled slightly. "Good. We'll move as soon as possible."

The sanctuary had saved many lives, but for Sygon, the real mission had only just begun. His people were still trapped, and Canna knew that rescuing them would be no easy task. But with the strength of the sanctuary behind him, there was no challenge too great.

As the preparations began, Canna looked out across the sanctuary, knowing that this was only the beginning of another journey—one that would lead him deeper into the unknown, but also closer to the purpose he had always strived for: to protect those who could not protect themselves.