Thierry awoke to a dull ache in his chest, a heavy weight dragging at his bones. He tried to rise, but his body refused, sluggish and uncooperative. It felt as though his skin had been stretched too thin overnight, and his mind was just as tired. Everything dragged. Even his thoughts felt like they had to wade through mud.
The camp was still. The others were asleep, each of them seeming as worn as he was. Veron lay near the fading embers of the fire, his features locked in a strange stillness, but there was no rest in his posture. Emma, pale and fragile-looking even in sleep, was curled up beneath her cloak. Lee, as usual, was motionless, a shadow beside the fading flames. Esther lay further from the fire, her face drawn, the tension in her body even when unconscious still evident.
Thierry stared at them for a moment before his thoughts slipped back to yesterday. We tried to fight a Sentinel. The words felt absurd, the memory too fresh, too painful. The beast had been a nightmare—a twisted, monstrous thing with three chains, each one like a whip of death. We thought we could take it down...
He rubbed his face with a groan, the absurdity of it all crashing back. Three chains—and we thought we had a chance. Madness.
His gaze moved to the forest. It felt empty now, but he could almost hear the echoes of the creature's screech. It moved faster than anything I've ever seen. Even Lee's axe couldn't touch it. The thing had been a blur, its chains lashing out with inhuman precision. They barely escaped with their lives. Idiots, all of us. We couldn't fight it.
He turned his eyes away from the dark, shifting trees and thought, for the first time since they'd arrived, about leaving. We could go. Berken's right outside. It only took an hour by carriage. We could be back in no time.
He caught himself. Stop thinking like that. You won't survive out there alone. Not after yesterday.
The memory of the deer flashed in his mind—its limbs twisted in unnatural ways, its hollow eyes staring into him as it had hunted them through the trees. That thing... it wasn't just hunting. It was playing with us. I can't outrun that. I can't fight it. He closed his eyes, trying to shut out the thought. No, I'm trapped here. We all are.
He pulled the shard of the anchor from his pouch, the cool metal a familiar weight in his hand. He closed his fingers around it, trying again to force the flux inside of him. Come on, damn you. Give me something. He tried to push through the resistance, tried to force the connection, but the shard remained cold, unyielding. No response.
Veron's voice broke through the silence. "It's no use. Emma already took the flux. That shard's empty."
Thierry's fingers twitched as he let the shard fall to the ground. His mouth went dry. Gods, of course she used it. He glared at the shard, hating it. And now we're all stuck and helpless.
"Give it up," Veron added, his tone clipped. He rose from the fire, his movements slow but deliberate. "We need to keep moving, no matter what."
Thierry exhaled sharply, frustrated. "You're serious? After everything, you still want to go south?"
Veron nodded. His gaze was distant, calculating. "Yes, we can't afford to stop now. Not after what we've seen."
Thierry's stomach twisted. What we've seen? We're barely alive. He wanted to argue, but the words wouldn't come. He glanced at Veron, the question heavy in his chest. "But why? Why not just go back? The carriage was only an hour's ride from here. Berken's just outside—why not leave?
Veron turned to face him, his expression hardening. "The carriage is more than just a ride. It's not mundane, Thierry. It could've taken us all the way to Lothos Archipelago. But now... we're on our own." He let the words hang in the air like the coldest of truths.
Thierry blinked, stunned by the sudden shift. Lothos Archipelago? Is he serious? He wanted to dismiss it as more of Veron's usual cryptic nonsense, but something about the way he said it made Thierry pause. That's a long way. Far from here and Berken. He considered the idea, but something else gnawed at him. Bullshit. There's something else he's hiding. He has a different goal. But... if what he's saying is true… He swallowed, trying to force the thoughts into order. I have no choice, do I?
Veron didn't wait for him to answer. "We don't have time for this, help me with breakfast."
Thierry wanted to protest, but he didn't. Instead, he stood, his limbs heavy, his mind still tangled in confusion. This can't be happening. All of this—none of it makes sense. But if the carriage did take us far away, then what? We're stuck.
The two of them set off to find herbs. The forest was as lifeless as before, every tree withered, charred and stripped of its vitality. Not a single leaf, no rustling in the branches. It was as if the very air had been drained, sucked dry by something unseen. Thierry's boots crunched over the ash-laden ground, his thoughts a jumble of frustration.
Veron kicked a stone, his voice sharp. "No herbs. No game. Nothing."
Thierry didn't respond, his eyes scanning the ground. The place felt cursed—burned, drained of all life. Every tree was a husk, its bark grey and cracked, its branches bare. There were no sounds, no signs of animals, no sign of life beyond their own footsteps.
Veron stopped and turned to him, the grim determination in his eyes stark against the bleak landscape. "We'll have to hunt," he said, his words carrying a weight that felt too heavy for the silence around them.
Thierry hesitated. "I'm not going," he muttered. He wasn't sure why he said it, but something in his gut recoiled at the thought of chasing down beasts in this desolation. Not with that thing out there, stalking us. Not after yesterday.
Veron gave him a long look, but didn't argue. "Fine. Stay here. I'll manage." He turned and disappeared into the trees.
Thierry stayed, but he couldn't focus. His thoughts were still trapped in the memory of the Sentinel, of how easily they had been torn apart by its chains. That damn bird wasn't even close to the worst of it. I'm weak. We're all weak. And whatever lies south, that thing had nothing on it.
His gaze drifted back to the fire, where Esther had begun to stir. She was awake now, though still as tired as the rest of them. Her face was drawn, her eyes heavy with the weight of their circumstances, but she still managed to give him a small, knowing smile.
"You should've gone with Veron," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "You need experience, Thierry. Out here, you can only rely on yourself."
Thierry bit back the urge to snap at her. What does she know? But instead, he just nodded, his throat tight. "Yeah, maybe."
She shifted and stretched, her voice now more serious. "This place... it's strange. You should climb a tree. See it from above."
Thierry looked at her, confused for a moment. Climb a tree? What good will that do?
But then something in her tone made him pause. There was a kind of urgency, an undercurrent in her words that he couldn't ignore. Slowly, he rose to his feet, pushing himself through the heavy, oppressive air. He found the nearest tree, the bark rough against his palms as he began to climb. The movement was slow, deliberate, his body stiff with fatigue.
When he finally reached the top, the sight that greeted him made his blood run cold.
Before him stretched a forest of charred trees, their backs all facing the south. The land beneath them was barren, the earth as grey as the sky. The trees looked as though they had been burned, their life sucked out, leaving nothing but husks behind. The air was thick with a grey fog that rolled in from the distance, swirling with an unnatural heaviness.
And then, southward, through the haze, there was Verdance— a strange, unnatural place where the trees still stood tall, green and alive.
Thierry's heart pounded in his chest. That place... whatever's down there... His mind recoiled at the thought. That thing we fought? That was nothing compared to what lies ahead.
A chill ran through him, deep into his bones. We're walking straight into hell.