We pressed forward, the ruins of Eldruhn growing larger and more imposing with each step. The fog hung thick around us, curling around the gnarled trees and jagged stone walls like it had been waiting for centuries to swallow anything foolish enough to approach. The air was colder now, biting through even the thickest armor, and every breath felt heavier than the last.
They didn’t say much after the fight, but their silence said enough. They were wary. Suspicious. And who could blame them? I’d tapped into something that most people feared—something that could have easily turned me into the same kind of monster we’d been fighting.
But for now, we were too deep into this mess for doubt. Whatever had turned this place into a death trap was still ahead of us, and we needed each other if we wanted to survive. Whether they liked it or not, they had to trust me.
At least until we got out of this swamp alive.
The first signs of the city were fragments of crumbling stone walls, half-sunk into the mud like broken teeth. Vines and moss covered nearly every surface, and pools of black, stagnant water reflected the faint light that filtered through the fog. The ruins stretched out in every direction, a maze of collapsed buildings, broken archways, and uneven paths that wound deeper into the swamp.
“Spread out, but not too far,” Garvin said, his sword drawn as he took the lead. His voice carried a nervous edge, though he did his best to hide it. “Keep your eyes open. If anything moves, call it out.”
Drea stayed close to him, her axe resting on her shoulder as she scanned the ruins with sharp, calculating eyes. Malric moved like a shadow, slipping from cover to cover with his bow at the ready, his every step silent and deliberate.
I hung back slightly, my own sword drawn, though my focus was split between the path ahead and the group around me. They hadn’t said much since we left the water’s edge, but I could feel the tension radiating off them like a second layer of fog.
I couldn’t blame them.
“Doesn’t feel right,” Drea muttered, breaking the silence. “Place is too quiet. No birds, no insects. Just... nothing.”
“Maybe the swamp killed everything off,” Garvin offered, though his tone lacked confidence.
“Or something else did,” Malric said softly, his voice barely audible over the sound of our footsteps.
That thought hung heavy in the air as we pushed deeper into the ruins. The stone paths were uneven, broken apart by time and the encroaching swamp, and the buildings around us leaned at odd angles, as though they’d been frozen mid-collapse.
It wasn’t long before we found the first real sign of trouble.
Garvin stopped suddenly, holding up a hand to signal the rest of us. I followed his gaze and felt my stomach turn.
The remains of a campsite lay ahead, half-buried in mud and overgrown with vines. Broken crates and torn cloth were scattered around the clearing, along with tools that looked like they’d been abandoned in a hurry.
And then there were the bodies.
Two of them, at least what was left of them. Their faces were bloated and pale, their flesh torn and clawed as though something had dragged them down. Their fingers were bent at odd angles, like they’d tried to crawl away but never made it.
“Locals?” Drea asked, stepping closer to inspect the scene.
“Looks like it,” Garvin said grimly, his knuckles white as he gripped his sword. “Probably a scouting party from the town. Didn’t make it far.”
I crouched near one of the bodies, careful not to touch it. The wounds were deep, precise—too clean to be from the swamp’s creatures. Whatever had done this was fast and deadly.
“Not animals,” I said, standing. “These wounds are... surgical. Whatever killed them wasn’t hunting for food. It just wanted them dead.”
Malric knelt near the remains of the campsite, picking up a piece of broken cloth. He held it up to the light, revealing the faint outline of a sigil embroidered into the fabric. A sunburst, surrounded by intricate runes.
“Recognize this?” Garvin asked, leaning closer.
Malric shook his head. “No. But it’s not local.”
“Magic users, maybe?” Drea suggested. “Could be they stirred up something they couldn’t handle.”
“Maybe,” Garvin said, though his tone was distant, distracted. His eyes were locked on the ruins ahead, his jaw tight.
“What do you think?” Drea asked, turning to me.
I hesitated, my mind racing as I considered the possibilities. The Darkness stirred faintly within me, a whisper in the back of my mind that I quickly pushed down. “Whatever this is,” I said carefully, “it’s still here. And it’s not going to let us leave without a fight.”
Drea nodded, her expression hardening. “Then let’s make sure we’re ready for it.”
We pressed on, our movements slower and more deliberate now. The ruins grew more twisted and uneven, the stone paths giving way to patches of mud and water that glimmered faintly in the mist. The further we went, the more the air seemed to hum with a faint, unnatural energy—a sensation that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
It wasn’t long before we found the source of that energy.
A massive stone doorway loomed ahead, half-buried in the swamp and covered in glowing blue runes that pulsed faintly in the fog. The archway was cracked and weathered, but the runes were pristine, their light casting eerie shadows across the surrounding ruins. Beyond the doorway was darkness, a yawning void that seemed to swallow the light entirely.
Garvin stopped in his tracks, his sword lowering slightly as he stared at the doorway. “Well... that’s not ominous at all.”
“Runes are still active,” Malric said, his voice low. “Whatever this is, it’s been here a long time.”
Drea stepped closer, tilting her head as she studied the glowing symbols. “Looks like some kind of warding spell. Probably meant to keep something in—or out.”
“Think it still works?” Garvin asked.
“No way to know until we go through,” she said, gripping her axe tightly.
All eyes turned to me.
“What?” I asked, my voice sharp.
“You’re the one with the instincts,” Garvin said with a faint grin, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “What’s your call?”
I stared at the doorway, the runes, the darkness beyond. The hum of energy grew stronger the closer I got, and I could feel the Darkness within me stirring again, like it recognized something familiar.
“We don’t have much choice,” I said finally, my voice steady despite the unease in my chest. “Whatever’s behind that door, it’s the reason we’re here. If we want answers, we go through.”
The others exchanged wary glances, but no one argued.
Garvin tightened his grip on his sword, his expression hardening. “Alright. Let’s do this. Stay close, stay sharp, and don’t let your guard down.”
As we stepped toward the doorway, the runes flared brighter, casting the entire clearing in an otherworldly glow. The hum of energy grew louder, almost deafening now, and the air itself seemed to vibrate with tension.
I took a deep breath, my hand brushing the hilt of my sword as we crossed the threshold.
The air beyond the threshold of the doorway was unlike anything I’d ever felt before. It pressed down on my chest, heavy and electric, like the atmosphere before a thunderstorm. The blue runes on the stone archway flickered once behind us, dimming as if they’d expended some energy just letting us through. The moment we crossed, it felt as though we’d stepped into another world.
Inside was a vast chamber, ancient and oppressive, its walls carved from black stone that seemed to drink in the faint light from the runes. The air was damp, and water dripped steadily from somewhere above, the sound echoing unnaturally loud in the cavernous space. Broken columns and rubble littered the floor, and far above us, cracks in the ceiling let in faint beams of light that were quickly swallowed by the darkness.
"This isn’t just ruins," Drea said quietly, her voice reverberating in the stillness. She ran her hand over one of the smooth walls, her fingers brushing against faint carvings. "This place... it was built to last."
"Yeah," Garvin said, his sword held tightly in both hands as he took a cautious step forward. "And it looks like it did. Too bad everything in it didn’t."
Malric had taken the lead now, his movements silent as he scouted ahead. His bow was still drawn, the string taut and ready. His sharp eyes scanned the shadows, but he didn’t say a word. That silence, combined with the overwhelming stillness of the chamber, was unsettling in a way I couldn’t quite put into words.
I stayed near the back, the runes on the wall catching my eye as we moved. They were everywhere, faintly glowing inscriptions in a language I didn’t recognize. They spiraled across the walls and columns, their patterns intricate and deliberate, like they were meant to hold something in—or keep something out. I could feel the faint hum of energy pulsing from them, but it wasn’t comforting. It felt... wrong. Familiar.
The Darkness inside me stirred faintly, a low whisper at the back of my mind. It wasn’t screaming or surging forward like it had during the fight, but it was... aware. I shook it off, focusing on the group ahead of me.
The chamber narrowed into a long corridor, the walls here even more intricately carved. Malric motioned for us to stop, holding up a hand as he crouched low. He pointed down the corridor, and we all followed his gaze.
At the far end of the hallway was a faint, pulsing glow—a dull red light that flickered like a heartbeat. It seemed to be coming from somewhere just out of sight, illuminating the edges of a crumbled doorway. The hum in the air grew louder, and with it came a faint, rhythmic sound, almost like breathing.
"That’s... not good," Garvin muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Thanks, Captain Obvious," Drea shot back, though her usual sarcasm was tinged with unease.
Malric motioned for us to follow, and we moved carefully down the corridor, our footsteps soft on the uneven stone floor. The closer we got to the red light, the more oppressive the air became. It was thick and cloying, carrying a metallic tang that stung the back of my throat. My grip on my sword tightened as we approached the doorway.
When we reached the end of the corridor, we stopped, staring into the chamber beyond.
The room was enormous, far larger than I expected, and dominated by a massive, jagged stone structure in the center. The red glow was coming from within it, pulsating faintly like it was alive. The structure looked almost organic, its surface covered in dark, vein-like patterns that pulsed in time with the light. Around its base were more carvings, glowing faintly with the same blue runes we’d seen before, though their light was weaker here, flickering as if struggling to maintain power.
But that wasn’t what caught our attention.
Surrounding the structure were people—or at least, what was left of them.
They were hunched and shambling, their bodies twisted and misshapen. Their skin was pale and slick, stretched tightly over their bones, and their eyes glowed faintly with the same red light as the structure. They moved with a strange, jerky rhythm, like puppets controlled by an unskilled hand, and they let out faint, guttural moans that made my stomach turn.
"The miners," I said, my voice barely audible.
Drea cursed under her breath, gripping her axe tightly. "This is worse than I thought."
Garvin stepped forward, his sword raised. "We can’t just leave them like this."
"You want to fight them?" Drea asked, her voice sharp. "Look at them, Garvin. They’re already dead."
"Maybe we can—"
"Shh," Malric interrupted, cutting Garvin off. He motioned for us to stay silent, his eyes fixed on the shambling figures ahead of us. "They haven’t noticed us yet. Don’t give them a reason to."
We stayed frozen, watching as the corrupted miners moved around the base of the structure in a slow, almost ritualistic pattern. Some carried crude tools—pickaxes, hammers, and shovels—while others clawed at the stone with their bare hands, their fingernails broken and bloody. The sound of their nails scraping against the rock was enough to make my skin crawl.
"What the hell is that thing?" Drea whispered, nodding toward the structure.
"Something old," I said, my voice quiet. "And something bad."
"The relic," Garvin said, his jaw tight. "It has to be."
I nodded, though I felt a chill run down my spine as I stared at the pulsating red light. The hum of energy was almost deafening now, vibrating through my bones like a second heartbeat. The Darkness inside me stirred again, stronger this time, and I had to clench my fists to keep it at bay.
"We can’t just leave it," I said, forcing the words out. "Whatever it’s doing, it’s not going to stop unless we destroy it."
"Destroy that?" Drea said, glancing at me like I’d lost my mind. "You see the miners, right? You see how many there are? You want to fight through that just to hit a glowing rock?"
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I met her gaze, my voice steady. "If we don’t, how many more people are going to die because of it?"
She stared at me for a long moment, then sighed, hefting her axe. "You’re going to get us all killed, you know that?"
"Maybe," I said, turning back to the structure. "But at least we’ll die doing the right thing."
Garvin and Malric exchanged a glance, then nodded.
"Alright," Garvin said, stepping forward. "What’s the plan?"
I took a deep breath, the weight of what was coming settling over me. "We draw them out. Spread them thin. Then we go for the relic."
The others nodded, and I tightened my grip on my sword. This was going to be messy.
And deep down, I wasn’t sure any of us were going to walk away from it.
The plan wasn’t perfect—hell, it wasn’t even good—but it was the only thing we had. The miners were too many, and the chamber was too small for us to hold our ground. If we tried to fight them all at once, we’d be overwhelmed in minutes. Our only chance was to split them up, draw them into smaller groups, and pick them off while someone—me, most likely—went for the relic.
Garvin took a deep breath, his armor creaking as he adjusted his stance. “Alright. Let’s do this. Just... don’t get killed, alright?”
“No promises,” Drea muttered, spinning her axe in her hand.
Malric, as usual, said nothing, but the way he nocked an arrow and pulled the string back to his cheek spoke volumes.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and stepped forward, my steel sword feeling heavier than it ever had before. “I’ll get their attention first. You guys get into position.”
The others nodded, fanning out as quietly as they could. Malric slipped into the shadows along the edges of the room, his bow trained on the nearest miner. Drea crouched low behind a pile of rubble, ready to spring into action, while Garvin moved to the opposite side of the chamber, his armor clinking softly despite his best efforts to keep quiet.
And then it was just me.
I took another step forward, the glowing relic pulsing steadily in the corner of my vision. The miners shuffled around it, oblivious to our presence, their guttural moans echoing through the chamber like a grotesque hymn. My heart was pounding in my chest, but I forced myself to focus.
“Hey!” I shouted, my voice ringing out like a thunderclap in the stillness. “Over here, you ugly bastards!”
The effect was immediate. The miners froze, their heads snapping toward me in unison. Their glowing red eyes locked onto mine, and for a brief moment, the chamber was completely silent.
Then they screamed.
It wasn’t a human sound. It was raw and primal, a wailing cacophony that echoed off the walls and sent a shiver down my spine. The miners surged toward me as one, their shambling movements replaced by a horrifying, jerky sprint.
“Move!” I shouted, already backing away as they closed the distance.
Drea was the first to act, her axe cleaving into the nearest miner with brutal efficiency. The blow sent the creature sprawling, but it didn’t stay down. It twisted unnaturally, clawing at the ground as it pulled itself back up, its glowing eyes locked on her.
“Keep them busy!” I shouted again, sidestepping as one of the miners lunged at me with a pickaxe. The crude weapon swung wildly, missing by inches as I countered with a quick slash of my sword. The blade bit into its shoulder, but the creature barely flinched.
Garvin charged in from the side, his sword crashing down on another miner with enough force to split it in half. “They don’t stay down unless you take the head or destroy the core!” he shouted, parrying another attack.
“Good to know!” Drea called back, swinging her axe again and sending a miner’s head rolling across the floor.
Malric’s arrows flew through the air, each one finding its mark with deadly precision. One struck a miner in the eye, dropping it instantly, while another pierced the throat of a second, severing whatever strange connection kept it moving.
But for every miner we cut down, two more seemed to take its place. They poured out from the shadows, their numbers seemingly endless, their movements growing more erratic and desperate the closer we got to the relic.
I gritted my teeth, my sword flashing as I cut down another miner. My arms burned from the effort, and my breathing was ragged, but I couldn’t stop. Not now. Not when we were so close.
“Sigvard!” Garvin shouted, his voice strained as he blocked another attack. “The relic! Go!”
I nodded, breaking away from the fight and sprinting toward the glowing structure in the center of the room. The pulsing red light grew brighter as I approached, the hum of energy vibrating through my bones. The closer I got, the stronger the pull of the Darkness became, whispering in the back of my mind like a familiar voice.
I forced it down, focusing on the relic. It was massive, nearly twice my height, its surface covered in those strange, vein-like patterns. The light inside it pulsed faster now, as if it knew I was coming.
I reached for my sword, preparing to strike, when a wave of force slammed into me. I was thrown backward, landing hard on the stone floor as pain shot through my ribs. I looked up, my vision swimming, to see one of the miners standing over me, its glowing eyes burning with fury.
It raised a jagged piece of metal, ready to bring it down on me, when a black arrow sprouted from its neck. The creature crumpled, and I glanced to the side to see Malric lowering his bow, his face as calm as ever.
“Get up,” he said, his voice steady despite the chaos around us.
I staggered to my feet, gripping my sword tightly as I turned back to the relic. The pulsing light was almost blinding now, and the hum of energy was deafening.
The Darkness stirred again, stronger this time. It wasn’t a whisper anymore—it was a roar, demanding to be used. I clenched my fists, the black flames flickering at the edges of my vision.
“Fine,” I muttered under my breath. “You want in? Let’s see what you can do.”
The black flames erupted from my body as I activated Shadowform, the familiar surge of power flooding through me. My muscles felt like coiled springs, and the world seemed to slow as my senses sharpened. I could feel the Darkness pulsing in time with the relic, like two halves of the same coin.
I raised my sword and swung with all my strength, the blade crashing into the relic’s surface. The red light flared, and for a moment, I thought it might hold—but then the stone cracked, a spiderweb of fractures spreading across its surface.
The hum of energy turned into a deafening wail, and the miners froze, their glowing eyes flickering as the connection to the relic faltered. I swung again, driving the blade deeper, and the relic shattered.
The red light exploded outward, washing over the chamber like a wave. The miners collapsed where they stood, their bodies lifeless and still. The air grew still, the oppressive energy fading as the chamber fell into silence.
I dismissed the Shadowform quickly, stumbling backward as the adrenaline wore off. My legs felt like jelly, and my head was pounding, but it was over.
We’d done it.
The others regrouped around me, their expressions a mix of relief and exhaustion. Drea glanced at the shattered relic, then at me, her brow furrowed.
“You want to tell us what that was?” she asked, her voice sharp.
“Later,” Garvin said, stepping between us. He looked at me, his expression unreadable. “Let’s just get out of here.”
I nodded, gripping my sword tightly as we turned toward the exit. Whatever questions they had, they could wait. For now, we just needed to get out alive.
The journey out of the ruins was quieter than I expected. The oppressive atmosphere of Eldruhn still lingered, but the eerie hum of energy was gone, leaving only the heavy silence of the swamp. Even the fog seemed thinner now, as though the shattered relic had somehow lifted a weight off the land.
The others didn’t speak much as we retraced our steps through the ancient hallways and crumbled paths. Malric stayed ahead of the group, his bow still in hand, scanning every shadow as though expecting more of the miners to rise. Drea walked beside Garvin, one hand on her axe and the other resting lightly on his shoulder. He was limping slightly, his armor dented and scraped, but he waved her off whenever she tried to help him more.
I brought up the rear, my sword still drawn, though my grip was loose. My arms were sore, my legs heavy, and the ache in my ribs hadn’t gone away since I was slammed to the ground by that miner. But more than the physical exhaustion, there was a tension in the air that weighed on me.
They hadn’t said anything about what they’d seen. About me. About the flames, the transformation. But I could feel their unease like a low buzz in the back of my skull. Every glance, every careful movement told me that the silence wasn’t out of relief—it was out of uncertainty.
As we reached the wide chamber where we’d first encountered the relic, Drea finally broke the silence.
“We need to talk about what happened back there,” she said, her voice sharp enough to cut through the heavy air.
Garvin sighed but didn’t argue. He slowed his pace, turning to face the group. Malric stopped ahead, his back to us but his head tilted slightly, listening.
“Not now,” Garvin said, his voice calm but firm. “Let’s get out of the swamp first.”
“No,” Drea said, crossing her arms. “We need to talk about it now.” She looked at me, her gaze hard. “Sigvard, what the hell was that? The black flames, the speed, the way you—” She paused, gesturing vaguely at the shattered relic behind us. “That wasn’t normal.”
I didn’t answer right away, my mind racing as I tried to figure out what to say. I could feel all their eyes on me now, waiting, judging.
“It’s... complicated,” I said finally, my voice quiet. “It’s something I’ve had since the portal.”
“Since the portal?” Garvin repeated, his brow furrowing. “You’re saying this... this thing happened when you fell through that portal back at the swamp?”
I nodded. “The Darkness—it did something to me. Changed me. Gave me these... abilities. I don’t fully understand it yet, but I’ve been trying to control it.”
“Control it?” Drea snapped, her voice rising. “You don’t control corruption, Sigvard. It controls you. That’s how this works. I’ve seen it happen before—someone thinks they can handle it, and then one day they snap, and we’re the ones who have to put them down.”
“I’m not going to snap,” I said firmly, meeting her gaze. “I’m still me.”
“For now,” she muttered, her hand tightening on the haft of her axe.
“Enough,” Garvin said, holding up a hand. “Drea, he saved our lives. Twice now, if you count the troll. I get that this... thing he’s got is unsettling, but he hasn’t hurt us. And if he says he’s in control, we give him the benefit of the doubt. For now.”
“For now,” Drea said, her tone warning. She gave me one last hard look before turning and stomping off toward the exit.
Malric hadn’t said a word the whole time, but as the group began moving again, he glanced back at me. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes lingered a little longer than usual before he turned away and followed the others.
I let out a shaky breath, my grip tightening on my sword as I fell in step behind them. For all Garvin’s words about trust, I could feel the cracks forming in the group. And I couldn’t blame them. If I were in their shoes, I wasn’t sure I’d trust me either.
By the time we reached the edge of the swamp, the sun was low in the sky, casting long shadows across the trees. The air was cooler now, and the oppressive silence had been replaced by the faint sounds of distant birds and insects. The swamp itself felt... lighter. Less malevolent. Whatever the relic had been doing, its destruction seemed to have cleansed the area.
We emerged onto the muddy road leading back to New Fenrir, our boots caked in muck and our clothes damp from the swamp air. The sight of the town in the distance brought a small sense of relief, though it was overshadowed by the weight of everything that had happened.
The townsfolk were already gathering as we approached, their gaunt faces lighting up with cautious hope. A few whispered to each other, their voices carrying faintly through the still air.
“They’re back...”
“Did they do it?”
“Is it safe now?”
Garvin stepped forward, his dented armor gleaming faintly in the fading light. He raised his sword, his voice carrying across the gathering crowd. “The relic is destroyed. The miners... they didn’t make it. But the swamp is safe again.”
There was a moment of silence, and then the townsfolk began to cheer. It wasn’t a loud cheer, more relieved than celebratory, but it was enough to send a ripple of warmth through the cold tension in my chest.
As the crowd dispersed, the innkeeper from the night before approached us, his weathered face showing more gratitude than words ever could. “Thank you,” he said simply, his voice thick with emotion. “We’ll send word to the guild about your success. And if you ever come back this way, you’ll have a place to stay. Always.”
Garvin nodded, clapping the man on the shoulder. “Appreciate it. Take care of your people.”
We headed back to the inn to rest, though the atmosphere between us was anything but restful. Drea barely spoke, her sharp gaze darting toward me whenever she thought I wasn’t looking. Malric, as usual, said nothing, though his silence felt heavier now, more deliberate. Garvin tried to lighten the mood with a few half-hearted jokes, but even he seemed subdued.
I sat on the edge of my bed that night, staring at the faint glow of the moonlight through the dirty window. The Darkness was quiet now, barely a whisper in the back of my mind, but its presence was still there. Constant. Unshakable.
For all the relief I felt at surviving the ruins, I couldn’t ignore the growing weight of what I’d become—or the doubt I saw in my companions’ eyes.
We’d traveled for hours after leaving the ruins, putting as much distance between us and that cursed place as possible before night fell. The swamp slowly gave way to firmer ground, the air growing lighter, and the oppressive sense of dread that had clung to us since entering Eldruhn began to fade. Still, none of us spoke much as we walked. Even Garvin, who usually couldn’t keep quiet if his life depended on it, seemed content to stay silent.
By the time we set up camp, the sky had darkened, the first stars beginning to flicker into view. We lit a small fire, the flames crackling softly as we sat around it, the tension from the ruins still hanging over us like a storm cloud.
Drea cleaned her axe with quiet, methodical movements, her sharp eyes flicking toward me now and then. Garvin adjusted his dented armor, muttering curses under his breath as he fiddled with a broken strap. Malric sat apart from the rest of us, as usual, leaning against a tree with his bow resting across his lap, his gaze fixed on the surrounding darkness.
The silence grew heavier with every passing moment, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed to say something. Not just to break the tension but to finally address the unspoken questions that I knew were lingering in their minds.
I shifted in my seat, leaning forward slightly as I stared into the fire. “You guys deserve to know the truth,” I said, my voice cutting through the quiet. “About me. About how I ended up here.”
That got their attention. Drea’s hands paused mid-swipe, her eyes locking onto me. Garvin glanced up from his armor, his brow furrowing, while even Malric tilted his head slightly, though he still didn’t say a word.
I took a deep breath, organizing my thoughts. “I wasn’t born here,” I began. “I come from another world. A world without magic, without monsters, without the System.”
Garvin’s eyebrows shot up. “Another world?” he echoed. “You mean, like... you’re an Outlander?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I woke up here a few months ago. I don’t know how or why, but... I didn’t belong there anymore. So I guess, in a way, I belong here now.”
Drea’s gaze narrowed, but her tone was calm. “You should’ve told us sooner.”
“Would you have trusted me?” I asked, meeting her eyes. “I mean, really? Outlanders aren’t exactly known for being... stable.”
She didn’t answer, but the slight shift in her posture told me enough.
“I woke up in a jail cell,” I continued, my voice steady. “No idea where I was, no idea how I got there. I was classless. Nothing. I didn’t even understand what a class was back then. All I knew was that I had to survive. And when I got out, I met Sid.”
At the mention of his name, the tension around the campfire eased slightly. Garvin leaned forward, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. “Sid? Sid Torvald? You trained with him?”
I nodded. “He took me under his wing. Taught me how to fight, how to use a sword. He showed me how this world works—how to survive in it. I owe him a lot.”
Garvin let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “Well, damn. If Sid trusted you enough to train you, that says something. He’s one of the best mercenaries out there. The guy’s a legend.”
“That he is,” I said, a small smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. “He wasn’t just a mentor. He was a friend. Still is.”
Drea leaned back, her arms crossed as she regarded me with a slightly softer expression. “And the portal? What happened with that?”
I hesitated for a moment, but then I told them. About the golden ring, the black void, and the moment everything changed. I didn’t go into every detail—didn’t tell them about the voice I’d heard or the deeper connection I suspected I had with the Darkness. But I explained enough for them to understand that I hadn’t chosen this path. It had been forced on me.
“When I fell into the portal, something happened to me,” I said. “The Darkness... it’s part of me now. I didn’t ask for it, and I didn’t want it. But I have it, and I’ve learned to control it. Sid helped me with that, too.”
The fire crackled as the words hung in the air, the group processing what I’d just told them. Garvin rubbed the back of his neck, looking thoughtful. Drea studied me for a long moment before nodding slightly, as if she’d come to some internal decision. Malric, as always, said nothing, but there was a faint shift in his posture, almost like he’d relaxed just a little.
“You helped us survive,” Drea said finally, her tone even. “Whatever that thing is, you didn’t use it against us. You used it to save us. That goes a long way.”
Garvin grinned, his usual confidence starting to creep back in. “Yeah, and let’s be real, you’re a hell of a fighter. If Sid trusted you and trained you, I figure we can trust you, too.”
Malric didn’t speak, but he gave me a small nod, his approval quiet but clear.
I felt a weight lift off my chest, though I knew it wasn’t entirely gone. They trusted me—for now. But trust was fragile, and I couldn’t afford to break it.
“Thanks,” I said simply, my voice steady. “I’m not going to let you down.”
Drea smirked faintly, though there was still a sharp edge to her expression. “You’d better not. Because if you do... well, let’s just say you won’t have to worry about the Darkness. You’ll have me to deal with.”
I chuckled, the tension around the campfire easing just a little more. “Fair enough.”
The conversation shifted after that, moving to lighter topics as the group finally relaxed. Garvin told another one of his exaggerated stories, complete with dramatic gestures and terrible impressions of the people involved. Drea rolled her eyes at him but couldn’t hide the small smile that tugged at her lips. Malric even cracked a dry, sarcastic remark at one point, which earned a rare laugh from Drea and a surprised look from Garvin.
As the fire burned lower and the stars above grew brighter, I leaned back and stared at the sky. For the first time in what felt like days, I didn’t feel like an outsider. I was part of something—maybe not completely, not yet, but it was a start.
Whatever challenges lay ahead, I wasn’t facing them alone.