Darius stood ankle-deep in the water, still reeling from what he had become. Slowly, he turned back toward the place where the screaming warrior had stood, but the man was gone. Nothing remained of him, except for a faint, silvery glow hovering in the air.
Cautiously, Darius stepped out of the water and made his way toward it. As he drew nearer, the object took shape, and his breath caught in his throat. It was the warrior's sword, unsheathed and suspended midair, its edges whispering with faint smoke, glimmering as though alive with light.
He stared at it in disbelief. How… and why is it floating? He wondered.
Hesitantly, he reached out. But the moment his fingers brushed against the blade, it dissolved. Crumbling away like dust in the wind.
"Where did it go?" Darius whispered, still dazed.
>>Within you<<
The deep voice echoed again.
Darius spun around. "Who are you?" he demanded. "Why are you hiding?"
>>I am not!<<
"Then why can't I see you?" he pressed, his eyes darting across the empty field. "How are you even doing that?"
>>It does not matter. You have wasted enough time. You must head north, immediately.<<
"Head north? To where?" Darius demanded. "Where am I, and what is this place?"
No sooner had the words left his lips than a deep, thunderous growl echoed from the heart of the forest. The sound was vast and powerful, So loud it sent flocks of birds bursting from the treetops in terror.
Darius flinched with a quickening pulse. "What was that?" he whispered, eyes wide.
>>You ask too many questions<<
"Well, forgive me," Darius snapped, his voice shaking with fear and frustration. "I've no idea what's happening to me! Am I going mad as well?"
>>No. You are in the kingdom of Anason. And you must travel north immediately, lest you share the fate of the man you just saw.<<
Before Darius could reply, the growl came again, louder this time, rumbling through the ground beneath his feet. He stumbled backward. "What is that?"
>>A Spryon. And you are not ready to face it. Trust me and head north, now.<<
Darius glanced up at the sky, searching for direction. "North… but where, how do I—?"
>>Follow the moon<<
Left with no choice, and no desire to discover what a Spryon truly was, Darius turned toward the moonlight and began to walk to the unknown.
Darius walked on in silence, his mind a storm of questions. Nothing made sense—his surroundings, his reflection, the voice that spoke within him.
"I need to know what's happening," he said aloud at last. "Why am I here?"
>>You are one of the Truthers. Those who must bring forth the Era of the Profane.<<
Darius frowned. "What does that even mean?"
>>The answers you seek will reveal themselves in time. Be patient.<<
He fell quiet again, his steps slow and uncertain. After a moment, he asked, "Then… what are you?"
>>I am your guide. I dwell within your mind. You have a purpose to fulfil, and I am here to lead you toward it.<<
"But why me?" Darius pressed. When no answer came, he went on. "I was in my village only moments ago, then suddenly, I'm here, in a place I've never heard of. How am I supposed to find my family? How far are they from here?"
>>I know nothing of what you speak. My purpose is not to find your kin, but to guide you to the truth.<<
"What is the Truth?" Darius asked.
But before the voice could answer, a murmur of distant chatter reached his ears, with many voices, drawing closer.
He quickened his pace toward the sound until he emerged onto a dirt path. There, a line of travellers was passing, riders on horseback and a small carriage laden with goods.
"Should I approach them?" Darius asked softly.
>>Yes. There is a village not far ahead, and they seem to be bound for it. Follow them. There is someone I wish you to meet.<<
"A friend of yours?" Darius muttered.
>>Something like that.<<
The travellers soon noticed him standing by the roadside. They were a mixed company. Middle-aged men leading the horses, with women and children seated among the bundles in the carriage. When they drew near, the lead rider raised a hand, signalling for the group to halt.
"Lad! Are you lost?" the elder man called out, his voice gruff but kind.
"Unfortunately, yes," Darius replied at once. "I'm supposed to go to a place called Anason."
The elder frowned and turned to exchange puzzled looks with the others before glancing back at Darius. "You're standing in it, lad," he said.
"Oh—I thought…" Darius began, faltering. He turned slightly away and whispered under his breath, "I thought you said I was going to Anason."
>>I never said that.<<
The elder narrowed his eyes. "Who are you talking to, boy?"
Darius turned back quickly, offering an awkward smile. "No one. I was just trying to recall the name of the village ahead."
"Orlan," the elder said. "It's one of many towns within the Anasonian Empire."
"Oh!" Darius nodded, pretending to understand.
"Yes," the man continued with a chuckle, then called over his shoulder. "Raymond! Bring this lad a spare horse!"
A man with short dark hair led a horse toward Darius; a fine creature of white and black. Darius mounted it carefully and took his place beside the riders at the front.
"I'm Zack," said the lead rider, offering a nod.
"Darius," he replied. "Thank you for allowing me to join your journey."
"We're glad to have you," Zack said with an easy smile. "We're farmers from Orlan. During planting season we stay out in the fields of Ardet, but the harvest is done now, and we're heading home with the fruits of our labour."
Darius glanced back at the carriages trailing behind them, piled high with sacks and baskets. "It seems bountiful," he remarked.
"Ah, yes indeed," Zack said proudly.
Just then, a deep growl rolled through the distant forest. The same dreadful sound Darius had heard before. His grip on the reins tightened. "Did you all hear that?" he asked anxiously.
Zack chuckled. "Aye, we hear it often enough. The Spryon. It's made a fine habit of roaring, though it's done no harm thus far. At least, not beyond that forest."
"What does it look like?" Darius asked.
"No one truly knows," Zack said. "Though there are those who claim to have seen it. Warriors calling themselves the Truthers. From their tales, it's a monstrous beast of impossible size."
"The Truthers…" Darius murmured, his thoughts stirring.
"Yes," Zack continued. "They're said to be the ones who will bring forth the Era of the Profane."
"And they've been trying to kill that creature?" Darius asked.
Zack gave a dry laugh. "They've been trying to do far more than that, or so they say. You're dressed like one of them lad, are you?"
"Uh—no," Darius stammered. "I… don't even know what that means."
"Oh," Zack replied, doubt flickering in his eyes.
"This Era of the Profane you speak of, what is it, exactly?" Darius asked.
Zack shrugged. "Can't say I know. But if it's meant to end that unholy racket in the woods, then the sooner it comes, the better."
Darius fell silent after that. The man seemed more curious about him being a Truther than about his strange appearance. Yet, even Darius himself was unsettled by what he saw.
When he caught his reflection in a pool by the roadside, the face that stared back looked almost inhuman. He lifted his hands, studying the pale skin beneath the moonlight.
What human bears skin as white as this? he wondered.
The journey to Orlan stretched on for a few hours, then the travellers reached a town spread across a shallow valley. It was filled with a patchwork of thatched roofs and stone cottages nestled between fields.
On the outskirts, a modest square could be seen, busy even at dusk, with merchants packing their stalls and children chasing each other through the dust.
The band of travellers began to part ways as they entered the town, their carriages rattling off down different streets. Two men remained behind with two wagons laden with goods, carrying three women and five children who still followed close behind Zack.
"Do you have a place to rest for the night?" Zack asked, turning his horse slightly toward Darius. "We've a spare room at our home, if you'd care to join us."
"I—uh…" Darius began, but the voice spoke again within his mind.
>>Do not follow them. There is a man on the far side of town waiting for you. Go there, now. <<
Darius froze, his mouth half open as he tried to listen more closely. Zack watched him with calm curiosity, waiting for an answer.
"I'm afraid I cannot," Darius said at last. "There is someone I must meet on the other side of town." He drew his reins and brought the horse to a halt.
Zack stopped as well, his companions following suit. He studied Darius for a moment, then nodded. "Take the horse," he said.
"Oh, I couldn't," Darius replied quickly.
"You should," Zack insisted with a smile. "Consider it a gift. The town is large, you'll need your strength for the road ahead."
Darius bowed his head slightly. "Thank you. That is… very kind of you."
"Farewell, Darius," Zack said warmly. "May the Truth find you."
Darius froze in silence as Zack and his kin rode away, fading into the bustle of the town.
The Truth? he wondered. Surely Zack thinks me one of the Truthers.
He lingered there a while longer, staring after them. Could Zack be a warrior too? Does he know more about this Era of the Profane?
He turned from the road they had taken and began to wander through the town. People moved busily about. Merchants calling, carts rattling, children darting past. But few spared him more than a passing glance. His pale skin, which he had thought would draw alarm, seemed to stir little notice.
So this is not so uncommon after all, he thought. Perhaps there are others who look as I do.
He cast his gaze left and right. "Where do I go now?" he asked quietly.
>>Right.<<
Darius tugged the reins and urged the horse to the right, moving at a slow pace. "Now would be a good time to tell me," he said under his breath, "who exactly am I going to meet?"
>>He is a Truther, like you. He carries something you will need for the trials ahead<<
As Darius rode deeper into the town, the murmur of many voices reached his ears. Up ahead, a crowd had gathered around a blazing fire in the square.
From the height of his horse, he could see a man clad in a dark cloak pacing before the flames, his voice rising above the crackle. The crowd watched him intently as he strode back and forth, waving his arms and pointing sharply toward them as he spoke.
As Darius drew nearer, the man's words became clear.
"These abominations!" the cloaked figure cried. "They call themselves Truthers. But they are cursed by the gods themselves! Their coming has brought only plague and death, and wickedness from the depths of the underworld!"
The Truthers? Darius thought, frowning. Why is he speaking against them?
From within the crowd, a woman's voice rose in protest. "But the Truthers have helped lessen the killings! You cannot deny that!"
The preacher turned sharply toward her voice, his eyes wide with fervour as though to pierce through the gathering itself.
"Silence, woman!" he thundered. "You have been deceived by these men! May the curse of the gods fall upon your house for speaking in their defence!"
Gasps rippled through the crowd. The woman turned away in anger, pushing past those beside her and storming off into the night.
"When they come to your homes seeking shelter," the preacher roared, raising his hands toward the fire, "refuse them! Drive them out! Let them return to the shadows whence they came, and may the evils they harbour go with them!"
A murmur swept through the crowd, a wave of uneasy whispers that betrayed their doubt and quiet disapproval.
"Men like that," came a calm voice from below, "are the sort you'd best stay away from."
Darius looked down from his horse toward the speaker. Before him stood a man cloaked in grey, his hood drawn low but not enough to hide the glint of armour beneath.
"That zealot by the fire," the stranger went on, "has long sought to turn the people against the Truthers. Best not wander too close."
"And who might you be?" Darius asked, studying him.
"Favian," the man replied, pulling back his hood. Firelight flickered across his face, showing steady eyes - the bearing of one accustomed to battle.
"I have been waiting for you," Favian said with certainty. "You are late… Kriger."
Darius' eyes widened at the name.