I woke up to voices—muffled, sounding kind of urgent, but... not panicked. My head was pounding, and the world felt like it was spinning when I tried to focus. Warm air brushed against my skin, and I could make out the flickering light from a fire somewhere nearby. It crackled softly, mixing with the quiet conversation of two people.
"Why didn't we just leave her in town? There was a healer, at least..." The man's voice was steady, but I could hear a little hesitation in it.
"Master, we can't just leave her. She's... she's been through too much. We have to help her," came the girl's voice. She sounded younger, but there was a firmness to her words, like she wasn't backing down from whatever decision she'd already made.
The man sighed, like he was exhausted. "I know. I just... didn't know what else to do."
"You should've been gentler with her," the girl said. Even though her voice was soft, there was a quiet strength behind it, like she wasn't asking, just stating a fact.
Their words faded in and out as I tried to gather my thoughts. I blinked slowly, trying to shake off the fog. Everything hurt—but not like I expected. No burning, no stabbing pain. Just a dull, wrong kind of ache.
As I focused on the voices, I saw them both. The girl first. She couldn't have been much older than me, maybe around my age. Her golden hair fell around her shoulders, glowing in the firelight—soft, out of place here, and her grey eyes were... well, I don't know how to explain it, but they made me feel safe. It was like looking at a gentle storm—calm on the outside, but with something deep beneath. Her clothes were simple—white blouse, red vest, black skirt, and black leggings—but they looked well-made. Like someone who actually knew what they were doing had put them together. It was weird, considering the situation. But she fit in a way I couldn't quite explain.
Then, I turned to the guy. Arden, I remembered. He looked older, or at least he seemed that way. Dark skin, blending into the shadows from the firelight, and this black robe that made him almost disappear in the dark. He wore dark sunglasses that hid his eyes, but I could still feel his attention. He had this presence about him, like... well, like he didn't need to try too hard to command respect. He had this quiet authority, but not in a scary way. More like he was just... him. The rings and bracelet on his wrist caught the light, and I could see something about him that made it hard to look away.
I tried to move, to sit up, but my body was heavy, slow. My limbs ached with a strange heaviness, like wading through thick water—off, wrong somehow. I wasn't sure what, but it was like my body didn't quite feel... right.
When I pushed myself up, both of them turned to me. The man didn't look directly at me, but I could feel his attention, like he was always aware of me, even without making eye contact. The girl, though, she smiled at me, and it made me feel a little better.
"You're awake!" she said, voice gentle. "We were getting worried. I'm Sora, and this is my... companion, Arden. He... well, he saved you."
I turned toward Arden, trying to figure him out. He looked like he was in his early twenties, but something about him felt older—like he carried weight most people didn't. But still, there was this air of... maturity. His short curly hair and a bit of stubble gave him that rough-around-the-edges look, but those sunglasses made it hard to read his expression. Still, there was something about him—he had this quiet power that made me feel small without even trying.
I swallowed, trying to get a grip on myself, but it didn't do much. Everything felt tight. Too much, too fast. "Thank you," I said, barely above a whisper. It was stupid, but it was all I had.
Arden didn't answer—not with words anyway. He shifted a little, just enough to make it look like he was done with the moment. I thought he was brushing me off at first, but then something shimmered at his side, quick and soft like pulling a thread from air. Just a flick of his wrist, and something small vanished into his hand. He didn't make a show of it, didn't explain. Just turned away again like it was nothing. Like pulling stuff out of thin air was the most normal thing in the world.
Sora leaned closer, her voice warm but steady. "It's okay," she said. "We'll take care of you. Just… rest for now, alright?"
Sure. Rest. Like my brain wasn't doing somersaults.
"What happened to my village?" I asked. My throat felt dry, voice tight. I already knew. I think I'd known the second I woke up. But I wanted to hear it anyway, like that'd make it real. Like hearing someone else say it would make it stop echoing around my skull.
Sora paused. Too long. "I'm sorry," she said, and I could hear the crack in her voice. "It didn't make it. Everyone…" Her words faded out before she could finish, but she didn't have to. I got it.
"I'm sorry," Sora said, voice cracking. "It didn't make it. Everyone's… gone."
The words didn't land right. Like they just floated there. I felt them—kind of—but it was like my brain refused to grab hold. Everyone? That couldn't be right. That wasn't supposed to happen. Villages burn. People run. Not... everyone.
I stared into the fire for a while. My hands were shaking and I didn't even notice at first. "That doesn't make sense," I mumbled, more to myself than anyone else. "They wouldn't… why would they even come? There's nothing to take. Nothing worth burning down. And ogres? Since when do ogres take orders from bandits?"
That part had been bothering me since I woke up—rattling around in the back of my head like a loose stone I couldn't shake loose.
Arden, still sitting with his back to us, finally spoke. "They were being controlled."
I blinked. "What?"
"The ogres. The humans. Something bound them together—something they wouldn't agree to on their own."
He tapped the air like he was drawing invisible lines. "It was magic. Dark. Forced. Not the kind you learn in books."
I swallowed hard. "So someone made them do it?"
"Most likely," he said, calm in that annoying, unreadable way of his. "And they knew what they were doing. Whoever it was didn't just want to kill. They wanted to erase that place. No survivors."
My breath caught in my throat. I hadn't realized until now how cold I felt.
Sora hugged her knees to her chest, voice quiet. "There's been… signs. Weird activity. Monsters acting strange. It's not just your village."
"Then who?" I asked. Not really expecting an answer. Just needing to say something.
No one answered.
Then Arden turned slightly and held something out toward me. A small glass vial. Pale green liquid, swirling faintly.
"Drink this," he said. His voice was steady, calm—but not cold.
I didn't move. Just stared at it like he'd handed me a snake in a bottle.
"What is it?" I asked, voice tighter than I wanted it to be.
"A potion," he said simply. "It'll help with the pain. Restore stamina, numb some of the bruising. Nothing dangerous."
I still didn't take it.
"If you're worried, check the bottom," he added. "There's a crest."
Hesitantly, I took the vial from him and tilted it just enough to see underneath. There, etched into the glass, was a small emblem I didn't recognize—something like a stylized tree entwined with a sword.
I blinked. "What's that?"
"Veridiana's official seal," Sora explained, scooting a bit closer. "It means it was made legally. All real potions have it—there's even a trace dye inside that reacts if it's tampered with. See the color at the bottom?" She pointed at a small stripe of blue painted across the end of the vial. "That's the original color. If the potion turns that color, it means it's still safe to use. No poisons, no shady ingredients."
I stared at the vial for a second longer, then—very slowly—uncorked it.
"You don't have to trust us," Sora said gently. "But this part's okay."
I hesitated one more breath. Then drank.
It was warm. A little bitter, but not in a bad way. The ache in my ribs softened almost immediately, like something heavy had been peeled off my lungs.
I exhaled, long and shaky. "...Thanks," I muttered. Not because I trusted them. Not yet. But because... maybe I didn't have to do everything alone right this second.
Arden waved it off like it was no big deal. "We were checking out a high-level dungeon nearby," he said, like it was just a casual errand. "Didn't make it in time. But we're here now."
A dungeon. Sure. Why not. Add that to the growing list of words I didn't fully understand yet. Dungeons. Cults. Ogres teaming up with bandits. None of this felt like the world I thought I lived in.
I stared into the fire. The flames crackled softly, but my thoughts were louder. Why me? Why my village? If they were just passing by, then it really was all random, wasn't it? Wrong place. Wrong time.
Arden said nothing else. He just sat there, arms resting on his knees, tapping his fingers against the air like he was playing with threads only he could see. I caught myself watching him again—trying to figure out if there was anything behind those glasses. Some hint of what he was thinking.
The fire popped. I jumped slightly. Sora glanced at me, offered a small smile like she'd seen it all before.
The silence started to stretch. Not peaceful. Not relaxed.
Too quiet.
Arden's head tilted. Barely. Just enough to be noticeable.
His fingers stopped moving.
His entire posture shifted—subtly, but unmistakably. From relaxed traveler to something sharper. Coiled. Ready.
Then I caught movement beyond the firelight—figures gliding from shadow like dark specters. My breath hitched. My heart pounded painfully against my ribs. These weren't just ordinary bandits. No, these were the same ones who had struck my village—the humans cloaked in dark robes, their faces hidden behind those eerie masks that gave them a cold, unnatural edge. The memory of their silent menace and the fear they sowed came crashing back like a tidal wave.
They were here.
"We're surrounded," he said, like he was commenting on the weather.
Great. Love that.
My stomach did a neat little flip, and I twisted toward the trees. Nothing there. Just thick dark and the crackle of our fire. No movement, no snarling bandits twirling daggers dramatically. Just silence. The kind that feels like it's waiting.
"Bandits?" Sora asked. Her voice was sharp, but not surprised. She sounded like someone who found this more annoying than scary. Like waking up to a bug in your bedroll.
Arden nodded once. "Quite a few. They're ightly armored with swords and shortbows. I can also feel a stronger one keeping back."
I blinked at him. "How do you even—"
He didn't answer. Of course he didn't. Just rose to his feet like he hadn't been sitting still for hours. His coat moved with him, silent and fluid—he was already in motion. The guy even stood like he belonged in a portrait.
"Stay by the fire," he said over his shoulder. "Both of you."
Sora didn't argue. She just folded her legs neatly and stayed exactly where she was. Like this was all part of the plan. Or a very familiar rerun.
I didn't argue either. There was something about him—something in the way he moved. Like he'd been through this a hundred times already and didn't feel like explaining it again.
The night held its breath.
Then everything went sideways.