Aria spun around immediately. She’d almost jumped out of her skin. Behind her was a boy with both arms folded across his chest. She took an involuntary step backwards.

“Who are you?” the boy asked with a look of suspicion. He paused for a second, observing Aria intently. “And why are you running through the woods on your own?”

Aria regarded the boy closely; he looked a bit older than herself. She guessed he was probably nineteen or twenty years old.

The boy cleared his throat after a few moments of silence. “You do understand me, right?” he asked.

Aria nodded curtly. “I understand you,” she finally said. “And I’m not alone,” she quickly added. “I’m with a caravan; we’re heading for Baynir.”

“Oh, that’s great,” the boy said. “I was beginning to think you were lost. Anyway, my name is Finnian, I’m from Eldon.”

Aria forced a smile. “Pleasure to meet you.”

Finnian pointed to the animal laying on the ground. “Um, I see you found the deer before I did. You can take it to your caravan if you wish. It’ll make a tasty breakfast.”

Aria shook her head. “Thanks for the generous offer but I think I’ll pass. Everyone knows that game is hard to find in the woods of the West. I think it’ll be quite unfair to take your catch from you.”

Finnian laughed. “Alright then,” he said as he walked to the deer and grabbed it by one of its hind legs. “I guess I’ll be heading back home now. You should go back to your caravan, I imagine they’re getting ready to resume their travels.”

“That they are,” Aria said. “Can I ask you one thing?” she added after a moment’s pause.

Finnian raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

Aria took another glance at the injuries on the deer’s flank. “How did you manage to put the deer down? You don’t have a weapon on you, and even if you did, I can’t imagine them leaving claw-like marks on your prey.”

For a few seconds, Finnian looked uncomfortable. Then he burst into laughter. “My hound brought the deer down,” he finally said. “The little beast is probably hiding somewhere around here. He’s really shy around strangers.”

“Oh, I see,” Aria said. “Well then, I guess I’ll be on my way. Have a good day, Finnian.”

“You too,” Finnian said as he turned and began walking down the travelling path with the deer in tow. “Crimson, you blasted dog,” he called as he walked. “Get your stinky ass out of the trees right this moment.”

Aria didn’t waste a minute. She went off the travelling path and into the trees, running in the direction where the caravan was camped.

There was something off about Finnian, she was absolutely sure of it. She didn’t think so because he’d snuck up on her, or because he happened to be wandering around the woods so early in the morning.

She thought so because he’d lied. Finnian had said he was from Eldon and he was headed back home, but the direction he’d walked off in was exactly opposite the big city.

****

Devryn woke up with a start. He sat up immediately, his chest heaving as he took labored breaths. He stayed that way for a couple of seconds, trying to get his wits back. It took him a while to realize that he wasn’t dreaming anymore.

“What the hell was that?” he said aloud. “That was definitely the craziest dream I’ve ever had.”

He got to his feet and stepped out of his tent. The caravan had finally woken up; everyone seemed to be outside having their breakfast.

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“How long was I out of it?” he muttered.

He sighed before hanging the curtains of his tent and going back into its cover. From the look of things, the caravan would be on the move in the next hour or so. He still had a couple of minutes to rest before packing up his stuff.

As he sat there, the dream he’d just had came back to him vividly. He knew he hadn’t been mistaken; the soldiers he’d dreamt of were the Champions of the Pantheon.

The Champions were soldiers that had supposedly existed over a thousand years ago. They were said to be blessed by the ancient elemental gods. The blessing that was bestowed on the Champions gave them the ability to manipulate the physical elements just like the gods themselves.

Devryn would’ve found it quite disturbing that he’d had such a detailed dream about the gods and their Champions if he actually believed that they were real. Fortunately, he didn’t. The gods were a big joke to him; merely considering their existence made him want to burst out laughing.

Devryn certainly wasn’t the only one who thought that way about the gods. The majority of Westerners thought the Pantheon was made up too. The reason was because there was absolutely zero proof of their existence.

No one alive had ever come across a human that had the divine abilities that the Champions supposedly had. No one had ever had an encounter with the gods either. Simply put, the Pantheon and its Champions were only heard of, they’d never been seen.

Devryn tried to put the dream out of his mind. He craned his neck and looked around the camp, his eyes roving over the people seated outside. He frowned when he saw that the woman he searched for wasn’t amongst them.

Ironically, he was quite sure that his reaction would’ve been the same even if he’d laid eyes on her. Maren, the old crone, wasn’t exactly his favorite person in the caravan. He’d spoken to her just once since they’d been traveling together. His eyes flicked over to her closed tent; he guessed she was probably still asleep.

Devryn had a good reason for trying to pick Maren out; he blamed her for his dream. Since he’d been on the road, his sleep had been totally peaceful. That was until that morning, just a few hours after the old woman had suddenly decided to regale the camp with stories of the gods.

“The old lady had better keep her stories to herself,” Devryn muttered. “It’s not like we haven’t already heard them.”

“Then why’d you listen?” a voice in his head responded.

Devryn jumped to his feet. The voice he’d just heard wasn’t some errant thought of his, he was sure if it. The voice had come from without, as if someone had spoken it into his ears.

“Why’d you listen?” the voice asked again.

Devryn was in shock, he didn’t know how to react.

The voice continued spitting questions. “Are you still asleep, Devryn? I thought I pulled you out of the memory.”

Devryn froze. The voice in his head was beginning to sound a bit familiar. Crease lines appeared on his forehead as he as tried to remember where he’d heard it from previously. “Wait a minute,” he said aloud, “Maren?! Is that you?”

“Correct, Devryn!” the voice responded. “That was quite quick.”

Devryn was alarmed. “What the hell?!” he said, his eyes wide. “How are you doing this?”

“Be quiet, Devryn. Stop all the yelling. You don’t need to speak your words aloud. If you continue doing so, the caravan might think that you’ve gone crazy.”

“This is crazy,” Devryn shot back.

“Be silent boy!” Maren insisted. “Speak through your thoughts!”

Devryn clenched his fists. “Alright,” he said aloud. He closed his eyes and thought, “Can you hear me?”

“Perfectly,” came the response. “Now come over to my tent immediately. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

Devryn felt a bit lighter as Maren’s voice left his head. Somehow, he could tell that she’d severed whatever connection she’d just used to talk to him. Her words still echoed in his head though, “We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

He stepped outside hurriedly and made his way towards Maren. The old woman had a sly smile on her face as he stepped into her tent. Devryn didn’t return the courtesy. “What the hell is going on?” he asked immediately.

Once again, he heard Maren’s reply in his head. “Is that any way to speak to an old woman?”

Devryn doubled over and placed both hands over his ears. “Stop doing that,” he hissed. “You’d better start explaining what this whole stunt is,” he said as he straightened back up, “Or I’ll let the caravan know that we’ve got some sort of….devil in our ranks.”

“Devil?” Maren repeated incredulously. “That’s a bit extreme, don’t you think? By the way, I told everyone what I was before joining the caravan: a psychic.”

“Oh, stop the whole psychic bullshit,” Devryn said. “No one believes in stuff like that.”

“Maybe it would be best if you started believing,” Maren shot back. “How else do you explain this?”

Devryn scowled. “That’s it! I’m telling the others.”

“Sit down, boy!” Maren screamed in his head. Devryn’s mind went blank for some seconds. By the time he became aware of himself once more, he realized he was seated on the ground.

“Don’t make me have to do that again,” Maren said sternly. “I’m too old to put up with your attitude.”

Devryn was dumbstruck. Somehow, the old woman had just forced her will on him. She’d made him do her bidding.

“How?” Devryn asked quietly. His anger had suddenly seeped out of him. “How are you doing this?”

Maren smiled widely, showing all of her teeth. “I don’t think you’ll like the answer, boy.”

Devryn pursed his lips. “Try me.”

“Well,” Maren said. “The short answer is I’ve been chosen by the gods. I’m a Champion.”