Maxwell

  “We arrived in Tarban, not to the sight of our allies riding out to meet us, but to bloodshed and slaughter. Contrary to what our intelligence suggested, the enemy was not waiting for us at Barrowfalls Keep. Rather, they had abandoned the position to fall upon Tarban in secret, springing from the woods to cut down our mercenary company like wheat before the sickle.

  Their jubilation soon turned to ash in their mouths as they laid eyes upon me, however. They knew what my appearance spelled for them. What havoc I would wreak upon the battlefield.

  My company suffered only a singular loss in the following skirmish; a young recruit, not yet accustomed to the ways of warfare. He managed one good swing before they knocked aside his blade and impaled him upon theirs. I watched the life drain from his eyes, the wild panic that racked his mind during those final moments.

  I do not know what I will tell his parents once we return to Hilfen. They were praying for his safe return.” - Writings of the Sword-Saint, 2147 Post-Separation (PS).

  Getting past the gate turned out to be significantly easier than I had expected. The one guard left on duty after the others had taken off to see to Miss Rachel’s injuries did not so much as blink when I walked up to him. He merely turned around and began to work the oversized winch with determined celerity. A moment later, the iron gate began sliding open, its metal frame creaking and groaning as it lifted skyward. There had to be some hidden mechanism at work for the thing to lift so easily, at the hands of a single guard turning the winch.

  A maelstrom of questions bubbled to the forefront of my mind as I regarded the dark forests beyond with a dubious look. Outside the safety of these bone-reinforced walls, there would be monsters lurking in the shadows. It was yet nighttime, after all, meaning those Husks I had encountered earlier were still out there.

  Still waiting.

  Still hungry.

  The thought of it alone was enough to send a shiver down my spine, but I mustered up what courage was left in me, and ducked underneath the steadily-rising gate.

  “Finally! I was beginning to think you had gotten lost on your way here,” a female voice sounded as soon as I was clear of the entrance, and from the side of the gate emerged Amelie, her fiery eyes hard and resolute. She was leading a reddish-brown horse by the reins, with a fitted saddle upon its back.

  Crimson claw marks ran in diagonal lines across her torso and legs, exposing wounds beneath her clothes that were yet bleeding. A singular cut trailed across her pale cheek, likely from one of the rusted knives the Umbrals had been clutching. Dirt and grime soiled her hair, and her right hand looked bruised where it clung to the reins of the horse.

  “Y-You’re wounded!” I gasped, taking an involuntary step towards her.

  “Oh, really?” she deadpanned, rolling her eyes. “The cuts are shallow. I will dress them once the sun comes up.”

  “The sun?” I asked, furrowing my brows.

  “Yes, the sun,” she said, looking at me as if I was intellectually challenged. “Lest you forget, it is yet nighttime. Which means the Husks are still out there, waiting for us. They will not disappear before sunup.”

  “O-Oh. Right,” I said, nodding along. “That makes sense. So we should wait for sunrise then, before we head out.”

  “If only we could,” Amelie sighed, lifting her gaze towards the star-filled skies above. “The Umbrals have been dealt with… for the time being, at least. But we did not kill them, not exactly, so they will be back soon enough. We need to be away from here when that happens.”

  “So, what… we’re just supposed to ride off into the night? With all those Husks around?” I asked, feeling a cold tendril of fear grasping at my heart. “They’ll kill us!”

  "No, they will not,” she said, tapping the Bone-Lamp on her waist. A crimson glow emanated from its center, the floating droplet of blood shining bright and clear. “Not so long as we have this.”

  “But… that’s…” I started. “The guards that saved me earlier today also had Bone Lamps! And those did little to scare off the Husks!”

  “That is because you had already antagonized those Husks into chasing you,” Amelie explained, turning around to work the straps that fastened the saddle to the horse’s back. “Once they have the scent of a meal, they will not stop for anything.”

  “A-Ahh. Okay…” I breathed, picking over these new morsels of information in my head. “So… if we go really fast on that horse… the Husks won’t attack us?”

  “Hmm… No, they will likely still try to kill us,” Amelie nodded, finishing her work before turning to face me once more. “They will just be forced to think twice about it first.”

  A sound halfway between a splutter and a cough forced its way past my lips, as Amelie bent down to retrieve something that was hidden from view behind a stack of crates. I sensed the warning signs of an incoming panic attack, and so fought to quell the dread coiling up inside of me. Amelie seemed entirely indifferent to this as she turned around and handed me something large and brown.

  “Here, take this,” she said, holding up the object loosely so I could take it from her. It was a large pack tied to a makeshift wooden support, with two leather straps for the shoulders. A medium-sized bedroll had been fastened to the top, held in place by hempen ropes. “We shall need it in the coming days.”

  I recalled the words of the handsome stranger I had met just moments prior, about how I would find a pack with the “key essentials” waiting for me on the other side of the gate. This must be said pack.

  “Thank you,” I forced out, as I placed the straps over my shoulders and felt its weight settle onto my back. Yet again, I found myself the victim of strange happenings beyond my control. Yet again, I found myself being pulled along without rhyme or reason.

  I would be lying if I said it was not growing tedious.

  “Now let us be off,” Amelie said as she placed her foot in one of the stirrups, and used it to hoist herself up onto the animal’s back. “We have no time to waste.”

  I gave her a blank stare as she adjusted her position in the saddle, and grasped the reins.

  “What are you waiting for?” she asked, frustration evident in her tone. “Get up here.”

  “I’ve, uhh… I’ve never ridden a horse before,” I coughed, feeling a slight swelling of heat in my cheeks. “I don’t know how.”

  “… Stonefather grant me patience,” Amelie groaned, shaking her head in exasperation. “Just… place your left foot in the stirrup, and hold onto this bit here.”

  “O-Okay…” I said, doing my best not to upset the animal as I placed my foot in the leather ring dangling off its side, and attempted to jump up behind Amelie. It required a few attempts, but after some careful manoeuvring, I found myself sitting directly behind her, my arms resting awkwardly on her shoulders.

  “You will fall off if you sit like that,” she said, bringing up a hand to guide my arms from her shoulders to her waist. “Place your arms around me here. And hold on tight - this will not be a pleasant trot.”

  No sooner had the last word left her lips as she gave the reins a mighty heave, and squeezed the horse with her legs. It let out a squeal at the sudden motion, before shooting into action, nearly ripping me straight out of my seat in the process.

  I held on for dear life as we bolted off down the dirt road, and into the thick darkness of the woods ahead. Small jolts of pain flared up my spine with every step, the horse feeling solid as a rock beneath my legs.

  We galloped through the moonlit shadows on the back of our steed, its mane flowing like a river in the wind. The night echoed with eerie whispers, as twisted branches became skeletal fingers reaching out to us from the void. There was an otherworldly stillness to the air, broken only by the rhythmic beat of the horse's hooves against the earthen soil.

  We rode with a purpose that transcended fear, yet I could not help but glance out into the forest all the same, my eyes searching for the monsters I knew to be there. Crimson glints passed by like embers in the dark, as moonlight reflected off the slime-like bodies of the Husks.

  Before long, the forest came alive with a cacophony of guttural groans and wheezes, the haunting calls of creatures unseen. Grotesque forms slithered through the underbrush, made visible by the soft light of the Bone-Lamp. The Husks were waking up now, their grisly forms taking shape from the crimson ooze.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  I knew there was no turning back. If we did, the Husks on our trail would be upon us in a heartbeat, ready to devour our flesh and feast on our bones. The Bone-Lamp would render them vulnerable, true, but what would it matter? We were two people, against an army of monstrosities. They would overwhelm us with numbers alone. And so we kept on riding, through the wails and cries, with the specter of death haunting our every step.

  Throughout it all, Amelie’s eyes never left the horizon. Not once did she risk a glance to the side. Not once did she acknowledge the creatures that surrounded us. She merely continued spurring the horse, guiding it down the winding path as if nothing in the world could touch her.

  Envy and self-hatred flared bright and clear in my chest at the sight of it. Here I was, holding on with all my might, terrified beyond belief. Paralyzed by fear to my very core. Compared to her bravery, I was… nothing. A weakling, a coward, a nuisance. A failure in every sense of the word.

  Yet the fear in my heart was so very real. Unlike her, I had not been raised in this world. I had not been forced to contend with creatures like these, creatures of pure evil that wanted nothing more than to wipe my existence from the face of the earth. I had never even been in a life-or-death situation before. The conveniences and safeties provided by the modern age had largely eliminated such brutalities.

  And so, my mind was wholly unprepared to deal with the magnitude of horror I now faced. It could not comprehend what was happening, or why. Adrift and helpless to resist the natural survival instincts buried deep within the human genetic code, which told me to run, run, run, and never stop.

  I was no brave hero, nor mighty warrior. No extraordinary individual on an epic journey to rescue a doomed world. Right now, I was simply a scared young boy, who did not know where he was nor how he got there.

  “Stop looking at them!” a voice called. It took me a moment to realize it belonged to Amelie.

  “W-What?” I shouted, torn from my reverie.

  “Stop looking at them! It will only make it worse!” she continued, her gaze still trained on the road ahead. “Close your eyes if you have to!”

  I struggled with her words, despite recognizing the wisdom in them. To close my eyes would be to cement my cowardice, to confirm my gutless nature. Was I really that weak? That helpless?

  I attempted to force a look behind me, if for no other reason than to prove myself wrong. At once, terror gripped every part of me with a quickness. And so, despite the fact that I knew I would resent myself for it, I closed my eyes then, blocking out the horrors of the world.

  Never before had I felt so powerless. Never before had I felt so spineless. Never before had I felt so utterly pathetic.

  Yet, keeping my eyes shut and my focus trained on the feeling of my arms around her waist, I gradually felt my body begin to calm down again, begin to center itself anew in the present. Amelie was of shorter and leaner build than me, and yet, in that moment, she felt like the sturdiest thing in all the world. The mightiest protector, the defender of the meek. The warmest fire on the coldest evening.

  My breathing slowed. My mind ceased its incessant racing. My heart calmed. And the monsters kept chasing us.

  /-0-\

  Amelie did not order the horse to stop before the breaking of dawn had settled firmly upon the horizon before us. It had been hours since we saw our last Husk, yet she had kept up the pace, taking us out of the woods, over a great hill and down into a green valley before deeming it safe to rest.

  The horse was utterly exhausted by the time we came to a halt in the small clearing, next to a stream of water coming down from the mountains. How the animal had been able to run for so long with both of us on its back, I had no idea. I could not claim to be much of a horse expert, but even I knew most horses could not possibly hope to maintain a steady gallop for such a great span of time. And we must have been at it for many hours before the sun had finally allowed us to stop.

  Then again, this was not my world. Maybe the horses were different here. Stronger, and more tenacious. Maybe they had… what had Rachel called it again? Life essence?… flowing through their veins? It was difficult to say.

  Pale sunlight covered the rolling hills around us as we sat on either side of a blazing campfire, the orange glow keeping us warm from the early morning chill. A flurry of sparks went up from the flames at regular intervals, accompanied by a sharp crack that was satisfying to the ears. The cold could not reach us here, protected as we were by the light of the fire.

  It was a calm morning. A stark contrast to the night we had just endured. Both of us knew we should try for sleep, given our exhaustion. Neither made a move for the bedroll.

  Ever since I came to this place, I had scarcely had a moment to consider my situation. I had been swept along by a powerful tide, taking me from the woods in which I appeared, to Galwen, to here. A metaphorical whirlwind of events, casting me in whichever direction it saw fit. It was not before then, as I sat by the campfire, staring into the inferno, that I had the opportunity to truly process everything that had occurred.

  I was in a different world. A new reality, far removed from anything I had ever known. It was looking increasingly likely that I would never see any of my old friends again, or my family. The thought sent a shiver down my spine.

  Mom would be all alone. I was all she had left.

  A sudden rustling of leaves brought my attention to my surroundings. Nervous eyes darted across silent woods, searching for signs of danger. Alas, the only thing of note was a strange-looking squirrel dashing up the side of a tree. I could have sworn it had three eyes…

  Tearing my gaze away, I shifted to look at Amelie instead. She appeared to be entirely unbothered by the sounds. A contemplative frown marred her features as she stared into the flames, her mind lost to reverie.

  “Uhh… Amelie?” I tried, my words piercing the veil between us to pull her from her thoughts.

  “Yes?” she asked, shifting to look in my direction. There was a brief moment of silence as the two of us made eye contact above the flames.

  “Aren’t… Aren’t those things going to come back? Tonight, I mean,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt.

  “What, the Husks?” she said. “No, we do not have to worry about them tonight. They only appear on Husknights, after all.”

  “Ahh… And how often do those happen?” I asked, in an effort to get a better understanding of how things worked here. I felt like I was doing that a lot lately. Asking stupid questions that appeared rudimentary to everyone else.

  “Every forth moon,” she said, tilting her head back to look at the sky. “When the light of Palthea is at its strongest.”

  “Pal-tea?” I tried, the word foreign on my tongue.

  “The scarlet moon,” she elaborated. “And it is pronounced Palthea, not Pal-tea.”

  “G-Got it…”

  “The Great Corruptor Gol’Truun made it so, when he returned from Heaven together with his companions. He took refuge in the west of Alwaar, turning it into the hellscape we know today as the Darkenlands,” she continued, as I did my best to memorize these tidbits of history. “The Husks are his creations, born of the chaos he carries within himself.”

  “So he’s the one responsible for… the way things are?” I asked, furrowing my brow in confusion.

  “You could say that,” Amelie sighed, running a hand through her raven curls. “Although, the truth is not quite so convenient. It was the Progenitors’s collective hubris that took us down this path… or rather, the hubris of the Assembly. Gol’Truun is merely a consequence of their transgression.”

  “Oh, I remember Rachel mentioning that word,” I said, casting my mind back to my conversation with her in Galwen. “Progenitors. She said I should remind her to lend me a book on their history sometime.”

  “Not a bad idea,” Amelie nodded. “The history of our ancestors is something every Alwaarian is taught from a young age. You would be wise to study it on your own time. If your memories do not return first, that is.”

  “Y-Yeah, I guess.” A moment of silence followed, only to be broken shortly thereafter by Amelie.

  "…You truly cannot remember anything, can you?” she asked. There was a certain finality to her tone that gave me pause. I did not know what to say in response, and so I merely nodded my assent, keeping my words to myself.

  “Hah. The scariest part is that I believe you,” she continued, speaking to no one in particular as her eyes returned to the flames dancing in the fire pit. “It is just… the fact that you are here… and that you are in possession of the Empyrean Sigil… it is all a bit much.”

  “The… Empyrean Sigil?” I asked, latching onto the word.

  “It is not even supposed to exist in the first place, you know,” she said, ignoring my question. “It is just a myth… or it was, anyway, until just now…”

  “What is it?” I tried again, hoping for an answer.

  “It is nonsense, is what it is,” she sighed. “The essence of Astratum, stolen by the Assembly who broke into Heaven. A piece of the original God’s power. A remnant of the World Crucible.”

  I did not even know where to begin with that statement. Essence of Astratum? Breaking into Heaven? The World Crucible?

  Amelie let out a long breath as I pondered upon these things in silence, her orange eyes betraying a deeper exhaustion. We had ridden through hell to get here. Now that the adrenaline rush of that experience was dying down, our bodies were slowly becoming aware of the fatigue we had been ignoring up until now.

  “We should get some rest,” she said, getting to her feet and turning away from the campfire. “I will go check on Waylan if you get the bedroll.”

  “Waylan?” I blinked.

  “The horse,” she said. “My horse.” And then, she was gone, wandering off towards the stream. That was where she had left him after she had dressed her wounds, and gotten the fire going. Most likely to allow him to slake his thirst after carrying us for so long.

  I set to my own task with a sigh, walking over to the pack to untie the bedroll. It was heavier than I had expected; heavier, and wider. When fully rolled out, it covered a sizeable area next to the campfire, wide enough for two people, if they slept close enough together. It resembled an oversized doormat more than it did a sleeping bag, but it came with a wool blanket for warmth. The bedroll itself seemed to be made of some kind of soft animal fur glued to a leather base.

  I briefly considered riffling through the rest of the pack for something to eat, but soon thought the better of it. After everything I had just been through, the thought of eating did not sit well with my stomach. The need for sleep burned much stronger in my tired mind.

  I took off my black sneakers and my hoodie, and placed them next to the bedroll. The sight of something so obviously modern in a world like this was baffling to say the least, but at that moment, I could not bring myself to care. I just wanted sleep.

  I slipped underneath the warm blanket, and let out a long sigh. Despite the horrifying events of the past night, I felt strangely at peace there next to the campfire. My eyelids grew heavy within moments, and I felt my thoughts grind to a halt as the crackling of the flames became the sole focus of my world. Closing my eyes, I began drifting deeper and deeper into oblivion, further and further away from it all…

  Until a sudden jostling of the blanket forced me awake once more, and a person came to rest beneath it, right next to me. It was at that moment that I realized we were two people, with only one bedroll to spare.

  Much like I had done, Amelie let slip a deep sigh as she shifted into place, her body pressing up against mine. Less than five hours ago, we had been complete strangers. Now, we were sharing a blanket.

  Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I should have felt embarrassed by this. Flustered by the sudden proximity and intimacy of these sleeping arrangements. But after everything that had transpired that night, it just… did not seem to matter. We had faced certain death in the form of grotesque monsters made of melted bones and human carcasses. Sharing a bedroll seemed child’s play in comparison.

  I let slip a yawn as I closed my eyes once more, taking comfort in the presence of another. Sleep came easy after that, and I dreamt of Petra’s bakery as the sun rose ever higher on the horizon.

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