Chapter 3: The Weight of Companions
They left the camp at first light.
Mist clung low to the forest floor, curling around boots and wagon wheels like a living thing reluctant to let go. The fire had been reduced to ash, the campsite erased with practiced efficiency. These were people accustomed to moving on.
Arin walked at the rear, adjusting the straps of the pack the dwarf—Brom—had wordlessly handed him before departure. It was heavier than it looked, filled with supplies Arin suspected had been redistributed so his own burden would not stand out.
No one mentioned it.
The elf, Elowen, moved ahead with silent grace, her bow slung across her back, eyes constantly scanning the trees. Kael, the swordsman, walked near the wagon, hand resting loosely on the hilt of his blade. Brom took charge of the reins, humming softly again, while the robed woman—Seris—kept to herself, staff tapping lightly against the earth with each step.
No one spoke for a long while.
Arin broke the silence.
"Thank you," he said quietly. "For letting me come with you."
Elowen did not turn. "We didn't let you. We didn't stop you."
Kael smirked faintly. Brom grunted. Seris's expression was unreadable.
Arin flushed but nodded. "Still. Thank you."
The road wound northward, narrowing as the forest thickened. Sunlight struggled to penetrate the canopy, casting fractured patterns across the ground. The deeper they traveled, the older the land felt—trees gnarled and towering, roots cracking stone like brittle bone.
"Where are you headed?" Arin asked after a while.
"Farther than most people like to go," Brom replied.
Kael glanced at Arin. "You ever been past the inland hills?"
Arin shook his head. "The sea was always… everything."
Elowen slowed her pace slightly. "The sea remembers," she said. "The land forgets."
Arin frowned. "What does that mean?"
She did not answer.
---
By midday, they reached a river.
It cut across the road like a blade, its waters swift and dark. A stone bridge spanned it—ancient, cracked, but still standing. Strange symbols were carved into its pillars, worn smooth by time.
Seris stopped abruptly.
"Wait."
The others halted without question.
"What is it?" Kael asked.
Seris knelt near the edge of the road, fingers hovering inches above the stone. Her brow furrowed. "Residual magic."
Brom sighed. "Of course it is."
Elowen's hand went to her bow. "Recent?"
"Yes," Seris said. "And disturbed."
Arin swallowed. His fingers brushed the satchel at his side.
Kael followed the gesture, eyes sharpening. "That thing you're carrying," he said. "It's not just a keepsake, is it?"
Arin hesitated.
The river roared louder, as if listening.
"It belonged to my father," Arin said carefully. "And the things that attacked Greyhaven wanted it."
"That's not an answer," Kael said.
Seris rose slowly, her gaze locking onto Arin. "May I see it?"
Fear surged through him—but alongside it, a strange certainty. He nodded and pulled the wrapped artifact from his satchel.
The moment the cloth loosened, the air shifted.
The crystal pulsed faintly, its inner light responding as though it had been waiting. The symbols on the bridge flared briefly, glowing with the same hue before fading.
Brom cursed under his breath. Elowen stiffened.
"That," Seris said softly, "is no ordinary relic."
Arin's hands trembled. "What is it?"
Seris's eyes reflected the light. "A fragment. Of something very old."
The river surged violently.
The stone beneath the bridge cracked.
"Move!" Elowen shouted.
The water erupted.
Shapes surged upward—slick, shadowed forms with too many limbs and eyes like polished obsidian. They clung to the bridge, screeching, claws scraping stone.
Kael drew his sword in a smooth arc. "Of course it's monsters."
Elowen loosed an arrow before the first creature fully emerged. It struck true, pinning the thing to the bridge pillar. Black ichor hissed as it fell into the river.
Brom roared and charged, axe swinging. "Stay behind us, boy!"
Arin stumbled back, heart pounding. He clutched the artifact instinctively—and it flared brighter.
The nearest creature recoiled, shrieking.
Seris slammed her staff against the stone. Symbols ignited around her feet, forming a brief, glowing circle. "Arin!" she called. "Focus on the light—don't fight it!"
"I don't know how!"
"Trust it!"
The crystal burned warm in his hands. Arin squeezed his eyes shut and thought of the lighthouse—of the steady beam cutting through darkness, of safety, of home.
Light surged outward.
The creatures screamed as the glow washed over them, their forms unraveling like smoke caught in a gale. Within moments, the bridge was clear, the river churning violently before settling again.
Silence fell.
Arin collapsed to his knees, gasping.
Kael stared at him, eyes wide. "Well," he said slowly. "That answers a few questions."
Brom wiped his axe and laughed once, sharp and nervous. "Aye. We've picked up trouble with legs."
Elowen approached Arin, studying him closely. "You didn't summon that light," she said. "You let it through you."
Seris knelt beside him. "That's more dangerous than you realize."
Arin looked at the crystal, now dim once more. "I never wanted this."
"No one ever does," Seris replied.
---
They crossed the bridge cautiously.
On the far side, the land rose sharply, the forest thinning into rocky slopes. The sky darkened with gathering clouds, and thunder rumbled distantly.
They made camp early that night.
Arin sat apart from the fire, staring into the flames. The events of the day replayed endlessly in his mind—the creatures, the light, the way everyone had looked at him afterward.
Different.
Kael joined him, lowering himself onto a log. "You handled yourself well."
Arin shook his head. "I almost got you killed."
Kael snorted. "That's travel."
After a pause, he added, "You're not useless, if that's what you're thinking."
"That's not what I'm afraid of."
Kael studied him for a long moment. "Good."
Across the fire, Brom told Elowen a story Arin couldn't hear, his voice rumbling. Seris sat quietly, staring into the darkness beyond the camp.
"What happens now?" Arin asked.
Kael followed his gaze. "Now? We keep moving. North. Toward answers."
"And if the things from the river come back?"
Kael smiled grimly. "Then we remind them why they should've stayed dead."
Arin hugged his knees, the artifact warm against his chest.
For the first time since Greyhaven fell, he felt something other than grief and fear.
Purpose.
Not because he understood his role—but because others now walked beside him, sharing the weight of the road.
Above them, unseen by mortal eyes, ancient forces stirred.
The light had awakened.
And the world was beginning to notice.