RYAZANIA POV:
A searing burst of light momentarily blinded us all.
When my vision cleared, I found myself standing on a vast expanse of snow-covered land, with the wind howling around us, sending flurries of snow swirling in the air like a frenzy of spirits.
The cold was brutal, cutting through our clothing and chilling us to the bone.
I could feel each icy gust as a physical blow, and my breath fogged in the frigid air. Beside me, Mal and Fein stood, their faces etched with shock as they took in the unfamiliar terrain.
Fein was the first to break the eerie silence, his voice barely audible over the howling wind. "Where are we?" he asked, his words whisked away by the gusts.
Still reeling from the battle and the sudden shift, Mal pulled his cloak tighter around himself. "A snowy region, that's all I know," he replied, his tone tinged with uncertainty. "But beyond that, we could be anywhere," he replied, his tone tinged with uncertainty.
Standing a few paces away, I was already deep in thought.
The snow offered few landmarks or clues, just an endless expanse of white stretching out before us.
The biting cold served as a stark reminder of our vulnerability, and I knew that finding shelter was imperative amidst the urgency of survival. A flicker of determination burned within me. Freedom was my ultimate goal, and I was willing to navigate any obstacle to achieve it.
"I need to find a way out of here," I thought, my mind racing with possibilities.
The battle at the castle had unveiled the perilous nature of this world, and I refused to become ensnared in its dangers.
Mal's concerned gaze met mine, his eyes filled with unspoken worry. "You need to stay with us for now," he said, his voice firm but not unkind. "We don't know what dangers lurk in this region, and traveling alone would be perilous, especially in your condition."
Fein nodded in agreement, his expression grave. "Mal's right. We need to find shelter, regroup, and assess our surroundings before we can formulate a plan." His words carried weight, a reminder of the perilous journey that lay ahead.
As we trudged through the snow, my mind whirled with thoughts of escape and how to survive in such a desolate snowy place.
Each step felt like a battle against the elements, the wind howling around us.
Still, we pressed on, driven by the primal instinct for self-preservation.
Fein led the way with steadfast determination, his steps sure despite the treacherous terrain.
Mal walked alongside, his eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of shelter.
As a stranger in this world, I found it challenging to keep up with the biting cold that tested my determination.
"Fein," I called out, my voice shaky from the cold, "how do you manage to endure this freezing cold?"
Fein turned to me, noticing my discomfort. "You need to coat yourself in dark energy," he explained, his voice steady despite the harsh conditions. "It forms a barrier between you and the cold, shielding you from its effects. It takes practice, but once you master it, you'll find some respite from the chill."
I watched as Fein demonstrated the technique, his form enveloped in a faint glow of dark energy.
The surrounding air seemed to warm slightly, and he appeared more at ease despite the biting wind.
Encouraged by his example, I attempted to replicate the technique, drawing upon the latent energy within me.
It took both effort and concentration, but soon, a subtle aura of dark energy enveloped me, offering some measure of protection from the cold.
With newfound resilience, we pressed on, our determination unwavering despite the harsh conditions. And as the wind howled, and the snow fell, we forged ahead, driven by the promise of survival and the hope of eventual freedom.
Eventually, Mal's keen senses led us to a cavern nestled within the rocky terrain.
All three of us sighed in relief; we sought refuge within its sheltering embrace, the warmth of a small fire offering solace from the bitter cold.
As we gathered around the flickering flames, the tension of our recent ordeal hung heavy in the air. Fein's brow furrowed in thought, his gaze flickering between Mal and me. The question of why our enemies had targeted us in the battle loomed large, casting a shadow over our newfound sanctuary.
"I don't understand why they attacked," Fein said, his voice tinged with confusion. "Clothed white men....what were they after?"
Mal shook his head, his expression grim. "I don't know," he admitted, his tone heavy with uncertainty. "But their actions seemed deliberate, calculated. It's as if they were following a plan, but for what purpose, I cannot say."
I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled over me at Mal's words. The memory of the battle and the mysterious woman who had aided me lingered in my mind, a puzzle with pieces that refused to fit together.
The clothes and insignias of the attackers seemed hauntingly familiar, reminiscent of something I had encountered before. "I think they might be from the Ivorian Empire," I offered tentatively, my voice hesitant as I shared my thoughts with the others. "The way they fought and the uniforms they wore felt eerily similar to what I've seen before."
Mal regarded me with surprise, his curiosity piqued. "The Ivorian Empire?" he echoed, disbelief evident in his tone. "But what would they want with us? We are far from their usual territories."
I shrugged, feigning uncertainty. "I'm not certain," I replied evasively. "But their organized tactics suggest a larger reason at play. There must be a reason for all this, though I cannot fathom what it might be."
The uncertainty of our situation weighed heavily upon us as we sat in the dim glow of the fire, the flickering flames casting dancing shadows on the cavern walls. The air was heavy with tension, the distant echoes of battle fading into a tense silence.
Mal's gaze lingered upon me, his eyes probing for insight into my thoughts. "What's on your mind?" he asked gently, his voice a soothing balm amidst the turmoil of uncertainty.
I hesitated, grappling with the weight of my secrets and the delicate balance of trust. "Just disoriented," I replied with a dismissive wave of my hand, masking the turmoil that churned within me.
But beneath the facade of composure, my mind raced with questions and uncertainties.
The battle had revealed the perilous depths of this world, and I found myself caught between the conflicting forces of survival and freedom.
The thought of escape lingered at the edges of my consciousness, a tantalizing temptation amidst the chaos that surrounded us.
I knew that to act rashly would be to court disaster, and so I bided my time, waiting for the opportune moment to make my move.
For now, we were bound together by the fragile threads of necessity and circumstance, united in our shared struggle for survival amidst the unforgiving wilderness. And as the fire crackled softly in the cavern's embrace, casting shadows that danced upon the walls, I knew that the journey ahead would test us in ways we could scarcely imagine.
Fein called out, his voice tinged with regret, "Ryazania, I'm sorry for striking you earlier."
Surprised by his apology, I responded softly, "It's alright; it's no big deal."
My body, still aching and weary from our recent fight, yearned for rest. I felt an overwhelming exhaustion, and despite my wariness about trusting them, I couldn't ignore the need to lie down and recover.
"What a beautiful name," came a soothing voice. It was Mal, his tone gentle and comforting.
"I see you haven't fully recovered yet. Don't worry. Just rest. If you want, you can sleep."
His words were reassuring, but before I could even muster a reply, my body betrayed me. The weight of fatigue pulled me down, and I slipped into darkness, unable to fight the overwhelming need for sleep.
_____
Fein POV:
The cave swallowed us in silence....cold, damp, and rocky. The only sound was Ryazania's steady breathing. She'd collapsed from exhaustion the moment we were safe. Can't blame her. The battle had been a storm of blood and fire, people clashing with demons, and then… the light.
Ignias's teleportation magic had yanked us from death's doorstep and dumped us into this forsaken snowlands.
I stayed near the entrance for a while, blade still drawn, scanning the shadows. Old habits.
Mal was quiet, sitting against the jagged wall with his knees drawn up. His silhouette shifted in the dim glow of my enchanted sword. He was staring at nothing in particular, lost in his thoughts.
I approached, careful not to disturb Ryazania. She needed the rest.
When I sat beside him, Mal glanced at me. "Is she asleep?"
I nodded. "Deep. Won't hear us."
We shared a moment of silence, thick with tension.
"I didn't expect Ignias to intervene," Mal muttered.
"Neither did I," I said. "But I'm not complaining. We'd be dead if he hadn't."
Mal's gaze lingered on Ryazania. "She's… different now. Stronger. But reckless."
"She's carrying too much," I replied. "And she doesn't trust easily. Not even us, sometimes."
Mal looked at me, a hint of skepticism in his eyes. "Do you trust her?"
I took a breath, thinking. "I trust her heart. But I think she's still hiding something."
"Then what do we do?" Mal's tone sharpened.
"We help her anyway," I said. "But we keep our eyes open. The Cloaked One isn't done with us."
Mal looked at me for a long time, then nodded. "Alright. So what's next?"
"We head east," I said. "Avoid the main roads and find a village."
Mal smirked faintly. "You have a plan."
"Somebody has to."
We sat in silence again. The kind of silence that only comes after making a pact. No words, just mutual understanding.
Then my stomach growled. Loudly.
Mal raised an eyebrow. "I did saw a boar near the back of the cave, looks edible to me."
"Only one way to find out."
We left Ryazania sleeping, tiptoed deeper into the cave, and made quick work of the boars lurking near a pool of water. They were blind but fast.
Afterward, we dragged the carcasses back, skinned and cleaned them, and used broken stones to make a crude spit. Mal fashioned a flat surface using some flat rocks and dry sticks, our makeshift table.
The scent of sizzling meat soon filled the cave.
Ryazania stirred, but didn't wake. I watched her from across the fire, thinking of the meat that would soon fill my belly.
RYZANIA POV:
The comforting aroma of cooked meat stirred me from my slumber, pulling me back to consciousness. Blinking away the remnants of sleep, I found Mal and Fein seated nearby, their attention focused on a plate of food carved from stone. It was a simple meal, yet the savory scent of the meat teased my senses, beckoning me to partake.
I rose from my bedridden state and joined them at the makeshift table.
Mal's gaze met mine, a curious glint in his eyes as he began to inquire about me.
"What kind of food do you like?" he asked.
"What's this all of a sudden?" I chuckled.
"Just curious," he answered playfully.
"I like meat, and I like food with a good scent," I answered fondly.
"Scent?" he asked curiously.
"I like scent, especially floral scent. I like flowers too," I answered joyfully.
"Well, that's good," he answered, seemingly thankful for my answer.
His question, though seemingly innocuous, caught me off guard.
My fondness for floral designs, my appreciation for scents came from my missing cousin, wherever he may be. I hope he is safe.
Fein, ever the pragmatic one, questioned the need for such conversation as he continued to eat, his brow furrowed in mild annoyance. Mal, undeterred, offered a simple yet profound explanation.
"We will be together for a while," he said, his voice tinged with sincerity. "It's only fitting that we get to know each other better."
His words resonated within me, breaking through my lingering doubts. In this uncertain world, perhaps these small moments of connection truly mattered. I joined them in their meal, savoring each bite amidst the flickering glow of the fire.
As the meal concluded, I pondered whether we could travel out of this cave now that the storm had settled down.
"Mal, I think it's time we leave this place and find someplace else," I said seriously.
"I guess we can't stay here forever. Fein and I should survey the surroundings," Mal replied.
As Mal and Fein prepared to survey the surroundings, I remained in the warmth of the cave, watching them with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity.
"What should I do?" I asked, my voice tinged with uncertainty.
"Stay," Mal replied with unwavering confidence.
Fein, ever the stalwart companion, stood up with a playful grin, his sword at the ready. "You scared?" he teased lightly.
"I would only drag you down," Mal admitted. "As a healer, I don't have much stamina."
With their roles defined, Mal and Fein ventured towards the entrance of the cave. Mal asserted, "I will stay here as a healer. I have the power of telepathy and spatial awareness."
Fein, unsheathing his sword, declared, "Then I'll scout the surroundings."
Guided by Mal's telepathic communication and aided by his spatial powers, Fein embarked on his reconnaissance mission.
Encounters with bears and magic wolves tested his mettle, but Fein's skill as a warrior proved unmatched. With swift and decisive strikes, he dispatched his foes.
Mal's voice echoed in Fein's mind. "Go back," he urged.
As he returned to the cave, Mal's relief was palpable. As they settled in to rest and recuperate, I marveled at Fein's strength.
With Fein's reconnaissance revealing a calm and promising terrain, Mal and I swiftly packed our belongings and provisions.
Fein's intuition would guide us as we set our sights on the south, hopeful of finding shelter and perhaps even villages where we could seek aid and respite.
As we ventured forth, Fein led the way with a sure and steady stride. I matched his pace, determined to keep up despite the unfamiliar terrain and the biting chill.
The landscape unfolded before us, a vast expanse of snow-covered plains and jagged peaks stretching into the horizon.
Despite our surroundings' harshness, there was exhilaration in the air as we pressed forward.
Fein's keen senses guided us through the wilderness. With each passing mile, the landscape changed, revealing hidden valleys and secluded groves.
Yet, as we journeyed onward, I noticed Mal lagging.
Concern etched across his features, he pushed himself to keep up, determined not to be left behind.
With a reassuring smile, I slowed my pace, falling into step beside him as we continued our journey together. For in this vast and unforgiving world, a bond forged in adversity united us.
After hours of trekking through the harsh wilderness, the landscape began to shift.
The jagged peaks softened into rolling hills, and the endless expanse of snow-covered plains gave way to pockets of greenery.
Fein, always attuned to the subtle changes in the environment, paused and raised his hand, signaling us to stop.
"There," Fein said, pointing to a small village in the valley below. Smoke rose from the chimneys, and we could hear faint sounds of life. It was a big change from the silence we had gotten used to in the wilderness.
We felt a wave of relief as we walked closer, but the path wasn't easy. The forest around the valley was thick and cold. As we got closer to the village, we noticed strange claw marks on trees and bones scattered near the trail. Something had been hunting there.
At one point, we had to pass through a shallow stream, and there we found a torn piece of cloth caught on a branch, stained with something dark. It wasn't just nature that made this place dangerous. Something else was nearby.
Still, we pressed on.
Upon arriving at the village, we entered the village; The air was cold, and the scent of firewood drifted through the wind. The distant bleating of livestock only broke the silence and the creaking of old wooden fences. They didn't seem angry, just unsure. I didn't blame them. I had two demons with me.
Soon, a man stepped forward to meet us.
A man stepped forward. Tall and broad, with ginger hair and a thick beard, he had a calm but firm presence. His brown eyes studied us closely.
"You three look like you've come a long way," he said, voice low and steady. "What brings you to Elden?"
Fein stepped forward. "We're just travelers, sir. Passing through. We don't mean any harm."
The man gave a slow nod. "Name's Vangar. I'm the chief around here. Not many visitors make it this deep into the valley."
"We ran into claw marks and bones on the way here," Mal said, glancing around. "Something's not right in these woods."
Vangar's expression darkened. "Aye. Something's been attacking our animals at night. We never see it, just the aftermath. Blood, broken fences. We've lost too many already."
"And your people?" I asked softly.
"They're tired. The long winter hurt us badly, and now this. But we endure. We always do." He looked at us again. "You don't look like ordinary travelers."
Fein exchanged a look with me and Mal before turning back to him. "We want to help. You've given us a chance to rest. Let us repay that kindness."
Vangar raised an eyebrow. "You'd do that? Help a village you've just met?"
"Inexchange, please give us food and a roof," I said. "That's more than most would offer strangers. It's only right."
Vangar stared for a moment longer, then let out a small chuckle. "Alright. I'll give you a place to stay; there's an old inn just by the well. It's not fancy, but it'll keep you warm. Rest first. Then we'll talk again."
He led us through the narrow paths of Elden, past old homes and curious villagers. We arrived at a small inn just beside the village well. Its wooden frame creaked with the wind, but the windows glowed warmly from within.
"It's not much," Vangar said, pushing open the door, "but it'll keep the cold out. I'll have food brought to you. We'll talk again in the morning."
We thanked him and stepped inside. The air was dusty; the floor worn smooth by time. But the beds were soft enough, and the fire was lit. It was more than we could have hoped for.
Later that evening, after settling in, we stepped out to walk the village streets. The sky hung heavy with clouds, and the soft glow of lamps lit the cobbled paths. The village was quiet, but not asleep. We spoke with farmers tending their fences, caretakers repairing pens, and guards on the night watch. Each one told a similar story; animals vanished, claw marks on wood and stone, strange howls echoing in the dark.
No one had seen the creature. Only the damage it left behind.
The next morning, we met Vangar again at the village square. He stood near a cart being loaded with hay, arms crossed and eyes scanning the horizon.
"You still want to help?" he asked as we approached.
"Yes," Fein said, stepping forward. "I'll start with the outer farms. If there's a trail, I'll find it."
Mal nodded. "I'll check on the sick. Some of your people look worn down. I can ease their pain and maybe learn more through what they've seen."
I smiled. "And I'll help in the gardens and fields. Your soil can still grow. It just needs care."
For the first time, Vangar smiled. "You three might be exactly what Elden needs."
________
Fein worked tirelessly, moving from one farm to the next, often before the sun had fully risen. He barely rested, only stopping to eat when hunger made his hands shake. His eyes were sharp, scanning the land with a hunter's focus. He noticed everything; tufts of fur caught on fences, odd shapes pressed into the mud, deep claw marks in tree trunks.
At every farm, he spoke with herders and villagers. He asked simple questions, repeated in different ways, hoping to uncover a hidden detail. Most could only offer fear and uncertainty. But Fein listened closely. He sketched the strange patterns they described, marked down the moon phases when attacks happened, and built rough maps out of stones and sticks on the floor of our inn room.
Each night, he came back with dirt-stained boots and new theories. Some nights he carried pieces of shattered hoof or dried blood on a leaf. Other times, he sat in silence by the fire, staring into the flames, trying to make sense of the clues.
Mal became a quiet comfort to the village. Wherever he went, people felt calmer. He moved from home to home, healing wounds and easing pain with a soft glow of magic from his hands. His telepathy let him sense what people were feeling before they spoke. He offered peace without asking for thanks.
Villagers began to wait by their doors when they heard he was near. Even those who once avoided outsiders now welcomed his presence. He spoke gently, always listening, always calm. "Rest now," he would say. "You're safe." And somehow, they believed him.
As for me, I found peace in the fields. The soil was dry and tired, but I could feel life waiting beneath it. I rolled up my sleeves and worked beside the farmers, teaching them how to care for the land. I showed them how to mix herbs into the soil, how to use compost to make things grow again.
Slowly, the earth softened. Tiny green sprouts began to rise where only dust had been. Flowers opened. The scent of herbs drifted through the air. Children helped in the gardens, learning how to bundle mint and lavender, how to crush petals to ease fever or calm dreams.
One afternoon, while feeding the goats, I heard laughter. I looked up and saw a group of children running through the grass, chasing each other under the sun. Their joy filled the air like music.
In that moment, I felt something I had not felt in a long time.
Peace.
tended to the livestock, focused on the tasks at hand, when the sound of laughter reached me. A group of children were playing tag nearby, their joy cutting through the quiet village air.
But one boy sat apart from them, his striking blue eyes watching the others with a distant look. Curious, I approached and knelt beside him.
"Why aren't you playing?" I asked gently.
He glanced at me and shrugged. "I can't get tired," he said. "If I do, I can't breathe."
Asthma. The word echoed in my head. My cousin had it too. I remembered his attacks, the panic, the helplessness. He would always push himself too hard, helping around the house until he was gasping for air.
My thoughts drifted to home. To my parents. Were they safe? Did they miss me? I missed them more than I cared to admit.
I looked back at the boy. He reminded me of my cousin, brave but burdened. I sat beside him and opened my palm, summoning a slow swirl of dark energy. His eyes widened as I shaped it into a small horse. With a bit of focus, the image began to gallop, running in a circle before trotting toward him.
His face lit up. "How did you do that?"
"Magic," I said with a smile. I reached into my pocket and offered him a blue flower I had found earlier. "If you go play with them, I'll show you another one later."
His hesitation melted into a grin. Clutching the flower, he ran off to join the others.
From the corner of my eye, I noticed Mal approaching. He had been watching.
"Why do such a thing?" he asked, quiet but curious.
I stood, brushing dust from my clothes. "Because someone should," I replied. "If we can give them peace, even for a moment, it's worth it."
Mal smiled, the kind that reached his eyes. We turned back to the animals as the children's laughter echoed around us, bright, warm, and full of life.