Two weeks had passed since I left Heladon City, and the looming Theosilic Mountains, though closer now, still seemed far off, days away. The journey had been a quiet one, devoid of much human contact. Even the hallucinations that had once haunted me seemed to have receded, yet the feeling of unseen eyes never quite left me. Always watching, always waiting.
A small town emerged on the horizon, nestled along the banks of a wide, slow-moving river. It was peaceful, quiet—almost untouched by the chaos that roamed the rest of the world. This place would be my last stop before I disappeared into the wilderness for who knew how long.
The village was modest, with no more than fifty residents going about their simple lives. The houses, built of dark, weathered logs, stood one story tall, their light wooden shutters worn and faded by the elements. Roofs sagged under the weight of age, their shingles haphazardly arranged, many missing entirely. Smoke spouted pleasantly from chimneys.
As I staggered into town, it became clear there were no bustling markets or eager traders. Just a handful of shops, simple and unadorned, selling the bare qessentials—meat, clothing, and whatever goods the villagers couldn’t make themselves. Buckets of water were hauled from the river, their contents sloshing as they were dragged to the small crop fields at the village’s edge. Life seemed so much slower paced here.
No one spared me a glance. If they noticed the stranger in their midst, they didn’t show it, and I was grateful for their indifference. After the chaos of Heladon, the anonymity was a relief. I wasn’t ready for questions or conversations.
Reaching into my coat pocket, I felt the few remaining coins in my hand, worn thin from constant use. I needed something to take with me, something practical for the journey ahead. My eyes caught sight of a shop—unnamed, its wooden sign swinging slightly in the breeze.
The door let out a long, drawn-out creak as I pushed it open. The interior was small, cramped even, with booths cluttered with various items, their surfaces dusty and worn. The smell of ink lingered in the air. It was oddly comforting.
Behind the counter sat an older woman, her gray hair pinned up into a bow, though it did little to hide the deep lines that etched her face that bore wrinkles and blemishes. She glanced at me briefly, her expression unreadable, before returning to her work.
I wandered through the narrow aisles, scanning the shelves filled with simple wares. Eventually, my fingers found their way to a small leather bag, its surface rough yet sturdy. Next to it, a flask caught my eye—partially made of wood, with metal carefully wrapped around its base and top.
I carried the items over to the counter, and the woman behind it didn’t even glance up until I laid them down in front of her. She looked at me for a brief second before naming the price. I barely had enough. The coins left my hand with more force than I intended, clattering loudly against the wooden surface, their metal noisy. She didn’t seem to care.
I strapped the leather bag around my shoulder, adjusting it so it sat snugly across my body. The flask fit perfectly inside, and I buckled it shut with a quick tug. Without a word, I turned and made my way out of the shop, the door creaking closed behind me.
Descending the short wooden steps, I headed toward the river. The town disappeared behind me almost too quickly, swallowed by the trees and the gentle curve of the land. Within minutes, I reached the water’s edge. The river flowed smoothly, its surface shimmering beneath the late afternoon sun. It moved slowly between the smooth, dark stones, the current barely making a sound as it twisted through the rocks and trees.
I stood there for a moment, letting the calm wash over me. The sound of the water was soothing, and for a short moment, I considered it—thought about lying next to the riverbank and just... stopping. But I didn’t. I couldn’t.
Pulling the flask from my bag, I unscrewed its cap and knelt beside the river. The water ran cool and clear between two larger rocks, and I let it flow into the flask until it was full. The metal felt cold in my hand as I lifted it to my lips, taking a long, refreshing drink. The taste was earthy, more so than I was used to, but it wasn’t unpleasant.
I stared into the water, my reflection staring back at me—a face I barely recognized anymore. Bruised, scarred, dirt and grime clinging to my skin like I hadn’t seen water in weeks. I looked like him. Vesperus. That thought twisted in my mind, causing an uneasy feeling. Was I him? No. I wasn’t. But the idea stubbornly remained.
The sense of something behind me grew stronger, and though I didn’t turn, I knew she was there. “You don’t have to do this,” came my mother’s voice, soft and familiar. But I knew better. She wasn’t real. The dead don’t return, not in any way that mattered. I kept my gaze fixed on the water, refusing to look.
The reflection rippled, and my eyes widened in horror. Bodies now floated just below the surface, their pale, lifeless forms bobbing up and down in a grotesque rhythm, faces contorted in pain. My stomach churned, and I stumbled back, my heart racing, bile rising in my throat as if the water I had just swallowed was tainted by death itself. But in the blink of an eye, they were gone. The river was calm again, as though nothing had happened.
"You won’t just go mad like Thadomire," my mother’s voice continued. She stepped closer, her figure faint but unmistakable. "You’ll lose everything—your humanity. You won’t be human anymore."
I clenched my fists, fighting to steady my breath, still rattled by the vision in the water. "Leave me alone," I muttered through gritted teeth.
“I suppose you never were. Not in blood, nor manner,” Mother’s voice lingered, slow and deliberate. Then, as suddenly as she had appeared, she vanished, leaving nothing but silence. I wanted to scream, to hit something, anything. My insides burned with frustration, but all I had left was the control to hold it in. It was the last thread keeping me together.
Dragging my body toward the nearest tree, each movement furthered the aches in my body. I collapsed against the rough bark. My breaths came in slow inhales, steadying the erratic beat of my heart. Even with my eyes shut tight, I feared what I might see if I opened them. Hallucinations. Ghosts. My mind was slipping, and that truth was more terrifying than anything I had seen. Maybe it had been slipping for a while now, and I was just too far gone to notice. Either way...it scared the living hell out of me.
Time passed without measure as I sat there, listening. Leaves above rustled calmly in the wind. The sun's warmth touched my skin, a welcome reprieve from the cold. Golden light filtered through the branches, bathing everything in a soft glow. It was peaceful, almost unnaturally so, given how close the world felt to crumbling around me.
I looked out at the river, surprised to see how little of it had frozen over despite the winter season. It flowed freely, unaffected by the ice that crept along its edges.
The sky was a blanket of gray, so dull and lifeless that it seemed the very color had been drained from the world. Clouds twisted and swirled, colliding with one another aimlessly. Snow fell in a slow, unending dance. It felt as though even the earth had forgotten what happiness was, left to brood under an eternal winter.
I shifted uncomfortably, my body stiff and tired, sleep refusing to come. With a frustrated sigh, I pushed myself up from the ground, glaring out toward the distant mountains. They seemed unreachable, towering over everything like ancient, indifferent gods. If only I had a way to reach them more quickly. Then it hit me—of course I did. I had almost forgotten.
Narrowing my eyes, I focused on a single image. The impossible stone stairs that led to Thadomire’s home, each one frozen beneath thick layers of ice. I imagined the isolated wooden door, barely visible through the relentless snowfall, and the freezing gusts of wind that howled against the cliffside. Even the cold causing everything to numb.
The world around me began to warp, the air shifting in strange patterns as reality bent. Sound blurred, everything swishing together in a chaotic rush until suddenly, the sensation of violent wind hit me like a slap. Beneath my feet, the solid, jagged stone of the mountain’s stairway took form. I opened my eyes, and there I was—standing high above the world, Thadomire’s door just ahead of me.
From here, trying to spot the town, it was nearly impossible. Yet the view was just as beautiful regardless.
I didn’t linger. With a hard shove, I swung the wooden door open, the wind slamming it shut behind me with a loud thud. The cavernous room inside was just as I remembered it, unchanged by the passing time. Shelves upon shelves of books crowded the center, towering high and casting long shadows across the stone floor. Along the perimeter of the room, tables were scattered, each one cluttered with objects and relics.
“Thadomire?” My voice cracked, rough from the cold air, so I cleared my throat and tried again. “Thadomire!” I called out again, louder this time, and still no response. Was he even here?
Stalking through his home, I found no sign of him—except for his room. It reeked, the air thick with a stench like rotting meat and damp earth. The floor was littered with clothes and debris, as if no one had entered in weeks. The smell hit me like a wall, and I nearly gagged as I backed out quickly, “Ugh...” I groaned. Safe to say he wasn’t here. Motherfucker.
On the table, I spotted something—a crystal. Just like the ones Ikevine used, particularly The Sovurn’s. This one was different, though. Instead of the usual whitish-blue, it glowed with an immense purple light, the energy within still potent. I tilted my head, intrigued, and struggled closer to investigate. Maybe I could use it to cross the mountains more easily.
Glancing around, I spotted a small skinning knife lying nearby, the handle engraved with a sharp ‘T.’ That would do. Mimicking what I had seen Ikevine do, I slid the crystal carefully across the blade as if sharpening it. A soft hum filled the air as power began to trickle from the crystal into the weapon. The purple light grew fainter with each pass until, finally, it dimmed altogether, the energy now completely transferred into the blade.
I held it up to the freshly lit torches. The blade barely reflected any light, but it radiated a strange heat, almost alive with power. ‘Perfect,’ I mumbled.
“It won’t work.” The gruff, weathered voice startled me, nearly making the knife slip from my fingers. I whirled around to find Thadomire standing tall, as if his absence had been nothing more than an illusion. His long, tattered robe dragged across the floor, trailing behind him. His beard, tangled and caked with some strange white liquid, clung grotesquely to his chin.
“That’s used for something different,” he spoke rather deeply.
“For what?” I shifted uncomfortably, feeling the familiar discomfort he always stirred in me.
Thadomire dismissed my question with a wave of his hand, his eyes narrowing as they fixed on me, burrowing into my core. “It was unwise to return here...” His voice trailed off. “And you... you are an abomination of swirling energy. How can your soul even hold so much?”
Without warning, he stepped closer and brushed a hand against my chest, his touch cold, as though he was trying to feel the energy beneath my skin. A shudder ran through me.
“Yeah...” I said sharply, stepping backward, eager to put space between us. “That’s why I need to go to the northern regions.”
Thadomire tilted his head, studying me with a strange, detached curiosity. “Really? The northern regions... I suppose it would be wise... and...” His voice drifted, his eyes shifting as if he were gazing off into the distance, lost in a world only he could see. “Yes, yes.” His voice wavered, faltering in the strangest way. “So many things following you.”
A cold, uneasy feeling crept up my spine. "Following me?" I asked, voice barely above a whisper. “What are you talking about?”
Thadomire tilted his head further, as if he couldn’t believe I hadn’t noticed. “You don’t already know?” His voice took on an almost amused tone. “Madness sees madness. You will someday.”
“That doesn’t—” I began, but he cut me off before I could finish.
“It makes perfect sense!” he snapped, his tone sharp as he whipped his arm through the air, the gesture wild and erratic. But then, as quickly as his temper had flared, it vanished. He shrank back, his expression shifting to something more subdued, almost fearful. “Mm.” He rubbed his nose with a wet, snuffling sound, his eyes distant and unfocused once more. “I’ll send you there... but once you enter the Theosilic regions, you never return. Understand?”
I hesitated. “Never?”
“Too dangerous to let you back onto the mainland,” he said with certainty. His gaze locked onto mine as he slowly pulled back his sleeve, revealing a pale, bony hand. He placed it flatly against my forehead, starling me with its coldness. “I haven’t done this in a while...”
“Done what?” I asked with a hard swallow.
“Teleportation,” he muttered. His voice grew more distant, as if the very act of speaking tired him. “You might end up in the right place... or in the middle of a mountain.” He shrugged, as though my fate was of little consequence. “Either way. It’ll be dealt with.”
His fingers pressed harder into my skin, and for a moment, I thought he was losing focus. But then he spoke again, his voice softer. “...and... thank you, Alaric.”
I blinked in confusion. “For what?”
“Finally...” Thadomire’s eyes drifted to a ragged flag hanging behind me, swaying gently as though caught in an invisible breeze. “Finally getting rid of him. After all this time.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could say a word, Thadomire’s hand pressed harder against my forehead. “You have the best life you can out there,” he murmured. And with that, everything around me began to dissolve.
The room, the flag, even Thadomire himself faded from view, swallowed by the void as the world itself vanished.
ns 15.158.61.6da2
