Sanctuary: Safe Haven

A full day had passed in the Kingdom of Kharath, and while Canna had snuck away from his quarters to sleep in the dining hall during his stay in Clan Varran, Vorgrim had ensured the five young warriors—Maggi, Eli, Alex, Dot, and Mira—stayed in their assigned rooms within Clan Varran.
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Today, they were in for something new: a real taste of life in the kingdom, with training and a mission to deepen their experience.

Vorgrim, as always, was overseeing everything, and it was his idea to make sure the five were given difficult missions, not just for the experience, but also to push them beyond their limits. After all, even outside the sanctuary, learning never stopped.

As the morning sun rose, the five warriors and Sera were summoned to the mission hall, a grand building where tasks and assignments were given out to the clan's warriors. It was an essential part of Clan Varran's operations, where each warrior was briefed and given their role for the day. Today's mission, however, was different—an urgent, high-profile escort job.

Vorgrim stood tall in front of the group, addressing the six of them with a commanding tone. "Today, you'll be escorting a high-profile noble of the kingdom. She's been receiving numerous death threats, and her current location has been compromised. You'll need to ensure her safe passage to a secure site. Full details will be provided in 30 minutes.

The estimated time of travel will be two to three days. Gather your supplies."

The five sanctuary warriors responded immediately.

"Supplies gathered, sir," Alex said.

"We're ready to head out at any time," added Eli.

"Let's start," Mira chimed in, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Sera blinked, clearly caught off guard. "What do you mean you already have your supplies? We just got the mission!"

Dot turned to Sera with a grin, explaining, "We're always prepared. Everything we need is already stored in our storage rings. Even if we're stuck for months, we can survive for three months straight without needing food or water."

Sera's eyes widened in astonishment. "Why do you prepare for that long? That's... impressive."

"It's just part of our training," Maggi replied calmly. "Every morning, before we even step out of bed, we check our gear and make sure our storage rings are fully stocked. It's become a habit, a daily routine. We don't leave anything to chance."

Sera, feeling a little embarrassed by her lack of preparation, hurriedly spoke up, "Give me a couple of minutes—I'll go gather my supplies!" With that, she darted out of the mission hall to get her things, leaving the five sanctuary warriors with Vorgrim and the Clan Varran official overseeing the mission.

The official, watching the exchange, was visibly impressed by their level of preparedness. "I've never seen people so well-prepared at such a young age," he murmured to Vorgrim. "They're certainly not ordinary warriors."

Vorgrim only smiled, saying nothing as he watched Sera run off to catch up.

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Meanwhile, back in the sanctuary, the hustle and bustle continued. The influx of refugees was overwhelming. "Influx" wasn't even the right word—it was more like a flood.

Many refugees didn't want to be left alone, and some refused to stay in rooms by themselves, haunted by memories of their past captivity. As a result, many chose to sleep under the open skies, beneath the towering trees and surrounded by the scent of fresh flowers in the sanctuary's sprawling grasslands. Blankets had been handed out, and makeshift camps had been formed.

For some, reality was starting to set in. Those who had regained their sense of self marveled at the sanctuary's beauty, expressing deep gratitude to the inhabitants who had saved them. A few even asked about bringing their remaining family members here, while others worried about unfinished business in the outside world.

For those who expressed urgency about returning, a red portal would appear, allowing them to leave whenever they were ready.

The fact that they were free to go whenever they pleased had put many of them at ease. Most of the refugees had assumed they'd never know freedom again. The sanctuary's open policy was like a lifeline of hope.

But among the refugees, there was a special group—slave warriors, men and women who had been forced into combat, as well as powerful beasts who had once been captured for their strength. Unlike the civilians, these warriors and creatures knew the gravity of the situation from the moment they woke up. There was no malice in the sanctuary, no hidden agenda. They were free, and they knew it.

Once they had recovered enough to stand, they sought out the leader of the sanctuary to express their thanks. They couldn't leave without repaying the debt they felt they owed.

A group of human warriors approached first, followed by a few beastkin, all with expressions of deep solemnity. But what truly captured attention were the three towering beasts that followed behind them, their presence radiating with raw power. One was a massive, stone-skinned behemoth with jagged ridges along its back, its eyes glowing faintly as it lumbered forward, each step heavy and deliberate.

The second was a winged griffin, its feathers shimmering in the light—a magnificent blend of sleek black and silver, with eyes that seemed to pierce through the soul. The third was a towering, multi-limbed insect-like creature, standing tall with a dark, iridescent carapace, its razor-sharp mandibles clicking softly as it observed its surroundings with eerie intelligence.

All three beasts exuded an aura of sentience and strength.

The lead human warrior, a scarred man with weathered features, knelt before Canna, his head bowed deeply. The others, both human and beastkin, followed suit, while the three mighty creatures lowered themselves as a sign of respect, their eyes fixed on Canna.

The warrior spoke first, his voice trembling with gratitude. "Great one, you have freed us from the chains that bound us. We owe you everything. Please, allow us to repay this debt. Our strength, our loyalty—whatever you require, we offer ourselves in service."

The griffin let out a low, resonant call, its wings shifting slightly. "We have fought for others, made to be tools of war," it said in a voice that was both fierce and regal. "But now, we have seen the light here in your sanctuary. It is warm. It is free. We are in your debt."

The stone-skinned behemoth rumbled, its voice as deep as the earth itself. "What we offer in return is our service. We will dedicate our lives to your cause, whatever it may be. We have tasted freedom, and we will fight to keep this warmth alive."

Canna, standing tall and composed, looked upon them all, his eyes softening as he met their gazes. He glanced toward Mortem, who stood silently at his side, before addressing the gathered group.

"Stand up," Canna commanded, though his voice remained calm. "I do not require anything from you. You are free now. Your lives are yours to live as you choose."

The scarred warrior looked up, his eyes filled with emotion. "But we cannot simply walk away. After everything... we have nothing left. This sanctuary is the only place we have felt peace. We want to serve it, to protect it, to protect you."

The griffin, its keen eyes still watching Canna intently, added, "Let us fight for this sanctuary. Not as slaves, but as protectors. We have seen the light of this place, and we want to ensure it continues to shine. Whatever happens from now on, we will fight to make sure this warmth never fades."

The multi-limbed beast clicked its mandibles in agreement. "We are creatures of battle, but for once, we choose to fight for something greater than survival. Let us stay. Let us prove our worth."

Canna sighed softly, though there was no frustration in it. "If you choose to stay, I won't stop you," he said. "But understand this—no one here is forced to fight. You fight because you choose to, not because you owe me anything. You're free, and your freedom comes with no strings attached."

The group of warriors, beastkin, and sentient creatures slowly rose to their feet, their resolve as clear as the rising sun. They had made their choice. The sanctuary, the place that had saved them from darkness, was now their home. And they would defend it with their lives.

With a nod of approval, Canna extended his hand. "Welcome to the sanctuary."