The sole of my thick, bloodstained leather boot stomped down on yet another patch of lush grassland – part of the abundant foliage invading this old trail, which clearly hasn't seen much use in recent times.
We've been walking for quite some time – nearly an hour, if my sense of time was still working properly.
The journey so far has been uneventful – the fickle torchlight illuminated the same light brown, nearly crimson bark, the same green foliage with occasional red needles scattered here and there, with an acorn or two seldom mixed in.
The sounds of insects, and from time to time birds, were accompanied by the constant hushed thumps of footsteps, and occasionally – the sudden rustling of leaves and branches, quickly fading into the distance, mostly likely caused small critters running away from the large group of big scary creatures holding fiery sticks.
The half-elf kept throwing silent glances at me from time to time, but the group continued to move on, none uttering a word under the weight of the dark forest.
Keeping my ears sharp, I kept moving forward, as if in a trance. It felt as if the forest was a big dark lake, with me slowly drifting down one of its currents.
I already felt the fatigue building up in my legs, with the earlier bruise still pulsating with pain from time to time, but for some reason, considering I've probably been walking for over two hours at this point, this was still far more manageable than I expected. If the town was one or two hours away, I felt I could make it without stopping to rest.
However, judging by some of the footsteps ahead of me, as well as the breaths of the three women becoming increasingly more ragged, this clearly didn't apply to everyone.
"We'll rest here for a bit."
Bern, the party leader, who has noticed that as well, gave the hushed order.
The group, still roughly a two dozen steps ahead of me, stepped off the trail.
Illuminated by the flickering torchlight, a small grassy clearing, less than a dozen meters across, surrounded by bushes and trees, came into my view.
The group made their way to a large pine tree at its periphery, across the trail, and began setting down their backpacks and torches. The two rescued women simply sat on the grass, leaning against the tree to catch their labored breaths.
I followed the groups' example, finding a small tree on the other side of the clearing. Exchanging a few glances with the half elf, who was still keeping his eye on me, I leaned my sword against the tree, and made a small mound, using the soft forest soil and some nearby rocks, finally putting down my own torch, which has been reduced by around a third of its original length.
"Are... are we close?"
One of the women, the one who has been silent so far, asked in a hushed voice, still catching her breath.
"Yes. You've held up well. I remember this clearing – we should be half way to the city by now. With our current pace, it shouldn't take more than an hour until we're home."
The half-elf's reassurance seemed to have calmed the two women down to some extent.
"The children... you said they were still in Luke's house, right?"
This time, it was the other woman who spoke.
"Yes. They should probably still be there, waiting for you."
The woman began quietly sobbing again, and the other woman gently hugged her.
The priestess, quiet until now, turned her head towards the two women, seemingly contemplating whether to say something, but eventually decided against it.
Instead, she stood up… and slowly walked towards me.
The elf and the dwarf threw cautious glances towards her, and much colder glances towards me, as if in a warning, but made no moves to stop her.
The party leader, Bern, did not even turn his head. His eyes continued scanning the dimly lit outlines of the small clearing, and his expression was focused.
I didn't know how I should react, so in the end, I simply kept looking at her as she approached, awkwardly stopping a few steps away, her fingers fidgeting with her robe.
"H-hello. I just thought I hadn't properly introduced myself before. My name is Amelia."
I already knew that by now, but saying that would make the situation awkward, so I decided to just go along.
"My name is Sebastian."
Honestly, it's not that I was usually this nervous around people. The main source of my discomfort was different – I really didn't want to start bullshitting my way through a conversation with someone like her, especially after what she did for me, but I also didn't really know much about 'myself' beyond this name.
In fact, I suspected there were many concepts which were common sense to her, but would be completely foreign and alien to me.
Still, it was already too late to back out of this conversation without looking rude or dismissive.
"Sebastian. You... still don't remember how you found yourself in the mines, right?"
I just shook my head. This wasn't even a lie – let alone the mines, I really had no clue how I suddenly found myself in this brutal world, in an unfamiliar body, with strange strings of text floating in front of my face.
No, actually, there was one clue – that ominous book I took home, for whatever reason. But that book was nowhere to be found now, so all I could do was put that clue aside, leaving it to my future self to think about.
"I'm from Silverveil. I mean, I've lived there since I was little. I grew up in the Sun Temple- wait, you know the city, right?"
Apparently, I failed to completely hide my confusion. Unable to contain a sigh, I shook my head once again.
"Oh. I see... you're probably not from this province. If you don't mind me asking, where did you grow up?"
"I..."
This was one of those questions I wanted to avoid. What could I even answer to this? I had a sneaking suspicion that if I claimed to be from some small village and just threw a random name, my lie would be instantly exposed.
What would be the best answer here? Should I say I still don't remember? That might erode the priestesses' fragile trust even more.
Could I claim to be a traveler? That would be even worse – if anyone asked me about the places I traveled through, I'd have to come up with progressively more outrageous excuses, if I could even think of any at all.
Hell, should I just say I lived in the woods, like some wild-
The moment my thoughts reached that point, it was as if a cork opened up in my mind.
It felt as if I threw a handful of random puzzle pieces on the ground, only to have half of them perfectly align.
"I grew up with my father. We lived in the woods, near Gloomshire."
A sudden stream of memories rushed through my head. A lone hut, standing in the woods. A large, muscular black haired man with a kind face, carrying firewood. A trail leading to a nearby town. And, not too far far in the other direction – a deadly, dreadful swamp, bubbles on its surface occasionally bursting to replenish the poisonous miasma in the air, its thick fog poised to smother any man who would dare approach.
The memories shot through my mind's eye before my lips stopped moving.
Amelia, clearly misinterpreting my stunned expression as something else, replied with a soft smile.
"I see! So you lived with your father. Goomshire... Gloomshire?.."
Her smile slowly faded, a single furrow carving between her brows, as eyes gazing into the emptiness in what appeared to be an honest attempt at recalling the name.
"Say... was there perhaps something else near your home? Perhaps a swamp?"
I grew slightly nervous at her hushed tone, but, resolute in my decision to remain honest, I quietly nodded.
Her expression slightly shifted – still contemplating, but more solemn.
"I see... but... if you escaped from Luskar, how did you make it through the Gloom Swamps?.."
At her words, multiple memories, much more vivid than before, once again rushed into mind.
***
Luskar – a country ruled by a consul of twelve archmages, known as the "High Consul". The country which Gloomshire was part of, a small town on the southern outskirts of the Gloom Swamps. A town near which 'I' grew up.
The Gloom Swamps themselves were a deadly place, marking the western edge of the northern Luskar border, considered a no man's land, and separating it from Valoria.
Valoria – that's the name of the kingdom I was currently in.
Escape – at the mention of this word, even more images flashed through my mind.
'I' was cautiously peeking through the window frame, facing the long straight dirt road that led to 'our' house. At the very far end of that road, 'I' could see a couple of figures, their tiny outlines slowly growing larger.
Suddenly, 'I' felt a large, gentle hand placed on 'my' shoulder. 'I' turned around, shifting 'my' gaze onto 'my' father's face.
He was smiling – a sad smile, filled with resignation rather than joy. But in his eyes burned a mix of emotions, the most distinct of which was determination.
"It's time for you to go."
'I' felt a concoction of feelings rising from 'my' chest. 'I' wanted to scream in frustration and anger. 'I' wanted to cry under the unbearable weight of the sorrow gripping 'my' heart.
"You... you can come, too. Why can't you just come?!.."
In 'my' vision, which was becoming blurry, the man just closed his eyes, his lips frozen in the same heart wrenching smile as he simply shook his head.
The stray gray hairs in his black beard, which 'I' never noticed before, became more distinct than ever.
"There is no more time left. Please, just listen."
An icy grip squeezed 'my' chest, words dying in 'my' throat, unborn. All 'I' could do was look into his deep, azure eyes.
"Once you leave the house, run to the cave I showed you yesterday. Do not stop. Do not turn back."
"Once you reach the cave, you will see several boulders to your left, and a bigger boulder near the far end. It's heavy, but you're a strong man now, so I.. I know you can move it."
His voice faltered for a fraction of a moment, but he regained his composure, continuing.
"Behind the third boulder from the left, you will find a small cache. Supplies, armor, my.. old sword, and a map. Behind the biggest boulder is an entrance to the tunnels."
"The map will guide you through – remain vigilant, and do not stray even a step from its path. By the time you reach the end of the marked path, you will already be in Valoria."
'My' throat was trembling, desperate to refuse, to shout in defiance, but under the weight of his gaze, 'I' couldn't help but listen in silence.
"Once you make it out, do not tell a soul about me or this place. If you must reveal some information, tell them you are an orphan who escaped the draft through the mountains. Valorians are distrustful of us, but Luskar deserters who managed to make it through are not unheard of."
The look in his eyes told 'me' this part was of utmost importance.
"If the situation arises where you're forced to reveal how you really got there, you can tell them you found the tunnels, and in a desperate attempt, managed to make it out by chance."
Finally, a small glimmer of hope flickered across his face.
"In Valoria, there is a city called Valor's End – the old capital, located in their central province. If you make it there, search for Glenn Darkwood. He is... an old friend of your mother and I. Five years ago, he was running a smithy in that city. If he doesn't believe you, you can show him the sword from the cache. You'll find shelter there."
The man finally paused, and the dense silence that descended pressed against 'my' eardrums like deep water.
"F-father..."
Before 'I' could speak, the man raised his hand, throwing a sharp glance through the window before looking back at 'me'.
"You've grown well. I'm proud of you. Please… after you reach Glenn, never go back here. Live your life without regret. Do not waste it, clinging on to the past."
His hand gripped 'my' arm with inhuman strength, shoving 'me' towards the back door.
"Now, there is no more time! Go!"
Without looking back, 'I' rushed through the back door, leading deeper into the swamp.
Crooked trees and withered vines blurring to 'my' sides, 'I' ran in a daze – without stopping, or turning 'my' head back even once.
After what felt like an infinity, 'I' suddenly stopped. Above the rotting branches and shallow puddles of rancid liquid, stood a small hill, with a pitch-black entrance visible at its side.
Suddenly, a bright flash of light illuminated the surroundings, far brighter than the last dying rays of the setting sun. A moment later, a tremor shook the ground.
For the first and last time, 'I' turned my head back, looking in the direction of the house – above the trees, black smoke began rising in the distance.
With nothing left behind, 'I' turned my head forward once again, rushing straight into the cave's dark maw.
***
"Huff! Huff! Huff-"
My back was drenched in cold sweat, my breaths quick and jagged. Amelia, momentarily startled, took a step back, momentarily startled.
I noticed my shaking hand has instinctively reached for my sword, my fingers gripping the hilt tightly enough for the tingling sensation of pain to set in.
The half-elf was rising to his feet, hands on the hilts of his daggers, and the dwarf was not far behind. This time, even the leader turned his cold, calculating gaze towards me.
Realizing the situation, I slowly let go of my sword, and took a deep breath. None of the others rushed to me yet, but their gazes remained locked on me, and neither the dwarf nor the half-elf sat down.
"Are you... alright?"
I shifted my gaze back to Amelia, her worried expression now matching the tone of her voice.
Was I alright? No. Not even remotely.
Sebastian.
From the moment I opened my eyes in this world, it was only a name on an imaginary panel.
Sure, by now, I was already certain this body belonged to a man that went by that name. But I had my own shit to deal with, and with everything going on, figuring out the story behind him was nowhere near the top of my list of priorities.
To say I was still staggered would be putting it very, very lightly.
On the one hand, it felt as if I just watched a short episode from some drama show in a matter of seconds. No, not just watched – the lingering echoes of his emotions still lingered in my head, as if I just lived those moments myself.
On the other hand, I couldn't help but feel... guilt. Like walking on into a friend's house to then witness a massive family fight, only that you didn't actually know that friend, the fight ended with a homicide, and you walked out with his wallet for good measure.
All that, coupled with the current situation... I felt that even my ability to remain conscious right now was an achievement unto itself.
"I..."
I tried to answer, but the words got stuck in my throat.
rustle
Perhaps in my desperate attempt to focus my mind on anything else, I suddenly focused on a faint sound of rustling leaves.
rustle
It was a sound I hadn't heard before – unlike the sudden, sharp rustling of leaves and branches left behind by escaping critters, unlike the occasional insect making its way through a bush, this one felt more... deliberate. And stealthy. And most of all, those sounds were moving closer, from beyond the clearing, right behind the rest of the group.
The half elf's expression shifted – he, too, must have noticed this sound.
I shifted my gaze in the sound's direction, looking into the dimly lit bushes less than a dozen steps behind the group.
A pair of yellow shining eyes met mine. More than one pair.
Simultaneously with Bern's shout, I heard a low growl. More than one growl.