The night air was still heavy with the scent of charred earth and dried blood. Every breath tasted like ash, the sour tang of scorched metal was clinging to my tongue. Even the quiet felt tainted, weighted by what had taken place. A tense silence settled over the field, broken only by the crackle of scattered fires and the occasional low murmur from nearby soldiers.
Around me, soldiers moved slowly, their faces marked by exhaustion and a weariness that went deeper than fatigue. A man nearby wrapped a strip of torn cloth around his hand, barely flinching as he tightened it over an old scar that had split open. Another just stared into the fire, his eyes glazed, as if the flames held secrets he couldn’t escape. We had settled near the remnants of an old stone wall, partly hidden by the shadows of towering pines. It wasn’t much, but the wall offered a small shield from the cold wind sweeping across the field, and after the fight, even the rough ground felt like a blessing.
The soldier beside me, dug through a worn satchel, pulling out a strip of dried meat and a piece of stale bread. He took a bite, glancing at me before tossing another strip in my direction. I caught it, nodding in thanks, and bit into it. The taste was unremarkable, and I struggled to keep it down. Around us, the dim, flickering torchlight cast an orange glow over the broken landscape, making the scattered bodies and debris take on a haunting quality.
The soldier once again looked over at me, his eyes assessing. “Rough night,” he muttered, his tone casual but edged with a tension that suggested he’d seen too many of them.
I nodded, trying to process the chaos I’d just been part of, my mind was a mess, one moment I had been reunited with my brother and the next I was in a battle, with creatures I had only seen in my nightmares.
I looked closer at the soldier. There was something about him—a calmness in his gaze that made it seem like he was used to this.
“What were those… things?” I asked quietly, not wanting to sound too out of place but unable to hide my curiosity.
He raised an eyebrow, as if surprised that I didn’t know. “Darkspawn,” he replied simply, keeping his voice low. “They crawl out of the ground, like shadows with teeth. Hard to kill, but you learn quick, if you don’t.. well let’s just say people die pretty quickly around here.”
The taste of ash and blood thickened in my mouth, but I managed to keep my voice steady. “There were so many. Surely this isn’t normal?”
Roran shrugged, glancing out over the field as if half-expecting more to emerge from the darkness. “More or less. They’re relentless. Hit them hard, or they don’t stay down.”
He took another bite, chewing thoughtfully. After a moment, he spoke again, his voice almost casual. “You handled yourself well back there. Better than some who’ve been at this longer.”
“Just doing what I could,” I replied, trying to keep my tone steady. The truth was, I’d barely kept it together. The fight felt like a blur, and the memory of those shadowy creatures was still raw.
“First time seeing them?” he asked, eyeing me carefully.
I hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah.”
Roran gave a small, grim smile, nodding as if he’d expected that answer. He looked down at the ground, brushing a bit of dirt off his armor. His hand stayed close to the hilt of his sword, as if he couldn’t bear to let it go, and every now and then his gaze drifted to the darkness beyond the firelight, sharp but tinged with something else, maybe weariness, or maybe just old memories. “Everyone’s first time is a shock. But you held your ground.” He extended a hand. “Name’s Roran, by the way.”
I grasped his hand. “Kael.”
He nodded, releasing my hand and leaning back against the stone wall. The quiet between us felt like a relief after the relentless noise of the battle.
“What’s it like out here, usually?” I ventured, curious about what I’d found myself caught up in.
Roran’s eyes scanned the dark treeline. “Quiet, until it’s not,” he said, his voice almost a murmur. “These nights… they’re calm in a way that never feels safe.”
I nodded, not entirely understanding but feeling the weight of his words. In the silence that followed, the firelight flickered, casting long shadows that danced across the ground, stretching and shrinking in the darkness. The whole place felt haunted, like the air was thick with something waiting just out of sight.
After a moment, Roran shifted, his gaze fixed on the torchlight in the distance. “Out here, you learn quick. Trust your instincts, stay sharp.” His voice dropped to a near whisper. “They come out of nowhere, Kael. Shadows with a thirst that doesn’t end.”
I swallowed, feeling a strange mix of fear and determination settle over me. It was clear that the fight I’d just been through was only a small taste of what this place I’d found myself in held.
Roran’s eyes met mine, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of something in his gaze—determination, maybe, or a quiet resignation. “Stick close to the firelight,” he muttered. “Out here, it’s about survival. That’s all that matters.”
I nodded, his words hanging heavy in the air between us.
The quiet stretched between us, the sounds of the distant camp becoming more distinct as I listened, murmured conversations, the clinking of armour, the crackle of campfires flickering against the shadows. The field we’d fought in stretched behind us, littered with bodies and remnants of a brutal fight, but the camp itself was set up in an open glade just beyond. It was a rough place, hastily assembled tents scattered around a handful of large fires. Soldiers moved around us in clusters, some cleaning weapons, others bandaging wounds, a few just staring blankly into the flames, lost in their own thoughts, others were walking through the remnants of the old town behind us.
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The camp was functional, nothing more. There were no banners, no signs of rank or glory, just worn tents and the weary faces of those who had clearly been at this far longer than I had. Some of the soldiers wore pieces of mismatched armor, pieced together from previous battles, while others bore scars that spoke of near-death encounters. There was a gritty resilience in the air, a feeling that these people had long since traded any thoughts of comfort for the rough reality of survival.
Roran broke the silence, gesturing to a spot by one of the fires. “Come on, let’s get you situated. Food’s better close to the flame.”
I followed him, feeling the warmth of the fire seep into my skin as we settled on rough logs set around the campfire. He handed me another strip of dried meat, nodding for me to eat. I took it without question, chewing slowly as I watched the flames.
After a while, I found myself asking, “How long have you been out here?”
He leaned back, eyes fixed on the fire as if seeing something far beyond it. “Long enough. This place changes you.” He gave me a sidelong glance. “Once, we were scattered, fighting off these… things as they came. But now, we’ve got orders.”
“Orders?” I echoed, curious.
Roran nodded. “The commanders are done playing defense. They believe we’ve found the source—a rift, they’re calling it. Somewhere deep in the mountains. It’s where the darkspawn come through, flooding into our world. They’re planning to close it for good.”
I stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. “A rift… you mean like a portal?”
He nodded, his gaze darkening. “More or less. Something broke open the boundary between our world and… whatever place those monsters come from. It’s not natural, not by a long shot. Our orders are to march there, fight our way through whatever comes at us, and seal the thing shut.”
The thought sent a chill through me. A rift, an open wound between worlds, spilling out dark creatures bent on destruction. “Have you seen it?” I asked, voice low.
Roran shook his head. “Not yet. But there are soldiers here who have, scouts who barely made it back. They said it’s like standing at the edge of nothing, with shadows pouring out. Pure darkness, spilling over into our land like a poison.”
I glanced around at the other soldiers, feeling the enormity of what we were up against. They all wore the marks of fighters who had seen more than their share of horrors, yet they were still here, pressing forward. I could see them talking quietly, sharing what little food they had, patching each other up, determined to keep moving.
I thought about trying to run away, to get far away from those creatures and find a way home but Roran must have noticed my expression because he gave me a small, grim smile. “Stick close to me, Kael. You’ve got skill, but out here, it’s more about knowing how to survive than anything else.” He gestured around him, “There’s nothing out there… we need to close that rift before all of humanity is lost.”
I nodded, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and unease. “I appreciate it.”
“Good,” he said, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “You’ll learn quick. Just remember: don’t stray far from the group. When we start the march tomorrow, stay with the line. They come at us from all sides, and the ones who wander off…” He trailed off, leaving the rest unsaid. The silence that followed was heavy, settling over us like a shroud. I didn’t need him to finish, the image was clear enough.
As the fire crackled, I took a moment t
Roran glanced at me, his expression thoughtful. “This isn’t what you expected, is it?”
I shook my head, unsure of how to respond. I didn’t know what I had expected, but it certainly wasn’t this—a battle against creatures from another world, a fight to seal a wound in reality itself. I just wanted to get back home. But I was unsure how. That dark Spector had done something, sent me somewhere, but for what.
“Well, get used to it,” he said, his tone almost light. “Out here, things rarely go as planned. You’ll learn to roll with it.”
He leaned back, watching the flames with a distant look in his eyes. After a moment, he spoke again, his voice low. “Listen, Kael. Out here, it’s easy to lose sight of yourself, to forget who you were before all this. The darkspawn… they feed on that, on your fear and doubt. Stay sharp, stay grounded. Remember why you’re fighting.”
I nodded, letting his words sink in. It was strange—despite the bleakness of the situation, there was a strength in Roran’s gaze, a quiet determination that steadied me.
As I sat by the fire, Roran’s words sank deep, stirring thoughts I’d kept buried. Why was I here, really? Why was I fighting?
In the beginning, everything I did was in my brother’s shadow. He had always been the one everyone looked up to, the prodigy, the warrior who could do no wrong. My father’s pride in him was evident, and I’d been expected to follow that path, to live up to a legacy that didn’t feel like my own. Even now, those expectations clung to me like armour, as if I was fighting for something that belonged to someone else. But here, with my life hanging in the balance, I started to wonder if that was enough.
A part of me wanted to break free of that shadow, to carve my own place, a name that wasn’t just tied to my family’s reputation. I wanted to be Kael, someone who could stand on his own, not because of my father’s strength or my brother’s brilliance, but because I’d earned it.
And then, there was the vision of my brother. I couldn’t shake it. The way he looked, the concern in his eyes, the things he’d said—everything had felt so real. If he was truly alive, then I needed to find him, to understand what had happened, to see him with my own eyes. If it was just a hallucination, then… then I’d deal with that truth, too. Either way, I needed answers, and to do that, I had to finish whatever this was. I only had one thing to go on, that strange writing, when I first arrived. Save Anria.
With that in mind, a plan began to formulate.
Roran stood up, breaking through my thoughts. “Come on, I’ll show you a place to rest.”
I followed him through the camp, weaving between clusters of weary soldiers. He led me to a small corner where a canvas sheet was draped between two stakes, creating a rough shelter against the night chill. A tattered blanket lay folded at the edge, and the ground beneath was packed firm from previous occupants.
“Not much, but it’ll do,” he said with a shrug. “Get some rest. Tomorrow’s going to be harder than today.”
I nodded, settling down under the makeshift shelter. The sounds of the camp faded into a murmur as I sat cross-legged, breathing deeply, and let myself sink into the familiar rhythm of meditation. I focused on the faint stirrings of mana within me and began to gather it. Out here, with the darkspawn and unknown dangers ahead, I needed every advantage I could get.
But just as I closed my eyes, I heard footsteps approaching, and Roran crouched beside me, studying me with a funny look. “You’re trying to meditate?”
I opened my eyes, caught off guard. “Yeah. I need to recover.”
He gave a faint smile. “You’ve got the right idea, but you’re too tense. Meditation is about letting go, loosening your grip a bit. Imagine your mind like still water—every thought, every worry, they’re just ripples. Don’t try to control them. Just let them settle.”
I nodded, closing my eyes again, focusing on the image he’d given me. Water, still and quiet. I let my thoughts drift without holding onto them, letting the tension in my body slip away. The mana began to flow more naturally, easing into my core and replenishing me.
Roran’s voice came softly. “You remind me of someone I used to know, someone who thought he had to prove himself. Don’t let that eat you up. Strength isn’t just power, it’s also knowing when to be at peace.”
His words lingered as he left, and I let them sink in. The ache in my body eased as the mana flowed steadily, and with each breath, the edges of the camp’s sounds blurred. The night stretched on, the firelight casting shadows around me, but this time, they didn’t seem so overwhelming.