Alice sat alone in a corner of the fort. She glanced over at the pack in the center of the room. Next to it lay Thompson’s crossbow. After leaving Thompson behind the rest of their escape was exhausting. The valley had shuttered after Alice’s burst of magic and the corruption had slowly retaken control of the area in an attempt to kill them. Their way back now was closed off and difficult to cross again if the corruption would even let them through. She looked out the window. The valley was now a mess of natural and unnatural destruction. Alice hadn’t bothered to look through the windows on the other side of the fort. From the other side, it was easy to see the ocean and the outer edges of Dawncoast.
Her eyes were still red from tears. She had separated from Elias after entering the fort. He took care of the horses while she ran inside. Alice sat in the dimly lit room. Her eyes fixed on Thompson's bag. It was just an ordinary bag, filled with ordinary things, but to her, it felt like a gaping chasm, a reminder of what had been lost. She could feel the weight of every item inside it, each one a piece of Thompson's life, a life that was no longer.
Her heart ached with a grief so profound it threatened to consume her. It was an all-too-familiar feeling, one that had haunted her since the loss of her parents, then her village, and now Thompson. The sorrow morphed into a heavy blanket of guilt, suffocating her with the thought that she was a harbinger of death. Everywhere she went, death seemed to follow, like a shadow she couldn't shake off.
Elias' footsteps echoed softly as he entered the room. She didn't need to look up to know it was him; his presence was both a comfort and a reminder of her fear. The fear that he, too, might be taken from her, just like everyone else she cared about.
"Why?" Her voice was barely a whisper, laden with despair. "Why does this keep happening? Why am I always the one left behind?"
Elias approached cautiously, the empathy in his eyes a balm to her raw emotions. He tried to comfort her, but his words fell on deaf ears. Alice was lost in her world of grief, unable to see past her guilt and fear.
"It's not your fault, Alice. You can't blame yourself for the corruption, for the choices others have made," Elias said gently. “We have all been doing our best to do what we need to do. You are not at fault at all. I too wish he was still alive.”
But his words were a mere whisper against the storm raging inside her. Alice's mind replayed every loss, every moment of despair. She was a magnet for tragedy, a curse that brought only suffering to those she loved. The witches who had taught her magic, her parents, her village, and now Thompson. The list seemed endless, each name a weight added to her already burdened soul.
"Even if we cleanse the corruption, what then?" She choked on her words, her eyes brimming with tears. "Will it ever really end? Or am I destined to watch everyone I care about die?"
Elias reached out, but she recoiled, wrapped in her cocoon of misery. He wanted to bridge the gap, to ease her pain, but the chasm between them felt insurmountable.
"I can't lose you too, Elias," she whispered, her voice laced with a raw, aching fear. "I can't bear the thought of it."
Elias' heart ached for her, for the unbearable weight she carried. He wanted to hold her, to take away her pain, but he knew some wounds ran too deep, some scars too permanent.
"You won't lose me," he promised, but his words felt hollow, even to his own ears. How could he make such a promise in a world riddled with uncertainty and loss? “We are almost there. The islands are only a few miles away. You can see some of them from the edge of the walls in Dawncoast.”
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Alice's gaze returned to Thompson's bag. It was a tangible reminder of her deepest fear - that she was the common denominator in a world of loss and suffering. The weight of it felt like a physical force, pressing down on her, squeezing the air from her lungs.
"I'm so tired, Elias," she confessed, her voice a mere whisper. "Tired of fighting, tired of losing, tired of being the one who survives. First, it was my parents. Then it was my village and the many people beyond that that I never met. Never will meet. Now it is Thompson. My friend. An ally. Eventually, you will be next. That is how it always is.”
Elias sat beside her, offering his silent presence as the only comfort he could give. He knew that she would only half listen to him tonight. They sat together, two souls adrift in a sea of sorrow, bound by their shared pain and the looming shadow of a quest that felt more like a curse. He stayed awake for a little longer than her. Elias barely wanted to stay up and stand guard. His mind kept flashing back to the valley just beyond the walls they rested in. Memories of his losses and feelings about them washed through him. He knew the pain of losing people equally well. Silent tears welled up as he thought of Thompson, the Sword Temple, and the Witch Coven.
As the night stretched on, Alice's exhaustion enveloped her, a merciful blanket that dulled the sharp edges of her grief. But even in her exhaustion, a part of her remained vigilant, aware of the bag of belongings and the unspoken responsibility it represented - to carry on, to fight, to survive, even when every fiber of her being screamed for respite.
In the quiet of the room, with only the soft crackling of the fire for company, Alice's thoughts wandered to the journey ahead. The goal was so close, yet it felt like a world away. Thompson's bag loomed large in her mind as she fell asleep.
“… to get up,” said Elias carefully waking her up. He had already gathered his things and Thompson’s bag was no longer in the middle of the room. “The path to Dawncoast is a short one. It shouldn’t be hard to scavenge up a suitable boat for us. We can…”
“No,” said Alice firmly while sitting up. “I’m not going. Not yet. I have to go back. We can collect Thompson’s body. Maybe we can…”
“He is gone,” said Elias a little harsher than he meant to. He stopped himself and then continued. “You slept through the ruckus in the night. The corruption, throwing a tantrum of sorts, brought down more of the valley. It’s path is largely cut off now. Maybe if we weren’t at risk of being in its ire, but for now traveling even part way through is a difficult task. Even now I worry what it might try and throw at us next.”
Alice's resolve faltered, her heart sinking with Elias' words. The finality of it all settled in, a crushing weight on her already burdened soul. Thompson was truly gone, lost to the merciless hands of the corruption that seemed to follow her like a dark cloud. She felt a surge of helplessness.
"But we can't just leave him there," she protested weakly, her voice breaking. The idea of abandoning Thompson to the corruption was unbearable. He deserved more, they all did. She owed him that much.
Elias's expression softened, understanding the turmoil raging within her. "I know," he said quietly, his voice tinged with his own grief. "But we have a greater responsibility now. We can't risk everything for what we cannot change. We have to focus on what we can do, on the living. Perhaps when this is finally over we can help put him to rest."
Alice looked away, the tears streaming down her face. She knew Elias was right, but accepting it was another battle. The burden of leadership, of making the hard choices, weighed heavily on her. Taking a deep breath, Alice wiped her tears. She couldn't afford to be lost in her grief any longer. There was a mission to complete, a world to save, and lives to protect. She had to be strong, for Thompson, for her village, and for everyone who had fallen along the way.
“There must be something we can do. Something now that will help. But I know you're right," she said, her voice steadier than she felt. "We have to keep moving. For them. For everyone we've lost."
Elias nodded, offering a sad smile. He stood up, extending a hand to help her to her feet. "We'll make it to Dawncoast, find a boat, and cross to the islands. Once we cleanse the corruption, we can honor their memories. We'll make sure their sacrifices weren't in vain."
Alice took his hand and rose. Her feet were unsteady. He helped her pack up her things in the solemn silence. Elias had collected Thompson’s things and gathered them into his pack. Attached to the straps was Thompson’s crossbow, still in one piece after the fall.