A flush ran across Zayne’s floury cheeks. Crumbs of bread dotted his tattered shirt, and his hands were sullied with specks of bread with every rub of his lips. “Sorry… I… *burp*” His stomach lapped on the chunky bread he’d mowed down, “I… I… well-” Rarely had Zayne been lost for words, but he was too flustered from his ravenous hunger, yearning for a sweet release.

Jaspian couldn’t hold his laughter. “It’s fine, You haven't eaten for days, right? There’s nothing to apologize about. I’m glad I helped.”

Zayne forced a smile. The soothing calm spreading from his somewhat repleted stomach allowed him to study Jaspian’s face in detail; His dark hazel eyes—a feature quite common from the settlers closer to the center of the western continent eyed Zayne in amusement. His dull platinum hair, darkened by the days spent outside, clung to his forehead, clamped shut under his brown leather cap, hidden under his bucket helmet. His gaunt face looked youthful, a feature Zayne had noted before, with a sharp nose and narrow lips. Speckles of freckles or dirt peppered his cheek and nose.

“Thank you again.” Looking down, he noted the differences in Jaspian’s armor compared to the others, He wore a leather vest and saddled a bow on his back, “You’re from the army? You look… different.”

“No no, I’m from a guild,” He said as his horse trotted. A light gust swept past the slight gap between their bodies, “The kingdom commissioned adventurers to help with their efforts, and my guild, the plain badgers—” He took out an amulet with the emblem of a badger, his cheeks ruddying in shame, “-a lame name, I know—commissioned the new adventurers and a few others to help. They’d love to reel in the stronger adventurers, but most had left Basin upon reaching the E-rank, so they ended up with people like me, save for a few notable individuals.”

“Is there anyone else from Burg that survived?” Zayne asked, clutching the edges of his saddle, “Like, uh… Students?”

Jaspian tilted his head, “I don’t know. But most survivors have relocated to Basin.”

A sense of hope filled Zayne’s heart. If his friends made it alive… then he’d encounter difficulties applying for the test since there’d be those aware of his coreless status. Most of those would be his classmates—Agil and Laura being two of the many, then the teachers and the principal. Outside of that, the majority never cared about his personal life. Perhaps he needed a new identity? But that seemed laborious to do and not to mention, impossible to maintain.

“I… don’t think you should get your hopes up.” A dark shadow streaked his eyes, and the trots from the horse seemed slower, “Most citizens of Burg are dead. Almost all visitors from the bazaar, adventurers, and merchants alike lost their lives in that attack. You’d have to ask Brenhart for details.”

That’s not good news. “I… see…” He knew the wisps of a chance to see his friends again. A light gust caressed the side of his face, “What happened to the monsters? What happened after the invasion?”

“They left town. The kingdom is establishing control on a new dungeon gate—the eastside of Westlund pass. It appears that the monsters from the invasion are gathering over there for some reason. You know how it is, new dungeons are volatile and prone to breaking.”

A new dungeon, the death wraiths, the unknown man… So much had happened in three days. The tension and constant desire for food and survival occupied his mind; he’d scarcely thought of the events of the world.

Zayne studied the sights as he pondered about Jaspian’s words, “What about Basin? The other towns?”

Jaspian shook his head, a light layer of sweat coating his gaunt nose, “They’re all safe, but a few panicked and wealthy residents are seeking safety in Basin.” He continued, “Some monsters got to them before they arrived, and… well, let’s just say that a few opted to stay in their towns upon hearing the news, counting their days. Let’s hope the invasion ends here.”

Jaspian glanced back; reflected in Zayne’s eyes was the visage of a tired young man. From a glance, Zayne surmised Jaspian was at most three years his senior.

His expression stiffened, “Are you all alone? Do you have families outside of Burg?” He added, “You asked about students, so are you from the academy? A lot of graduates from other towns are gathered in Basin right now, and so are sons and daughters of nobles and the hopeful.”

Nobles…

The talk of students led Zayne’s mind to his friends. I wonder if they’re alright, he thought as he spoke, “Let’s see… I’m alone, and-” Zayne lowered his eyes, “-and yes, I’m a student. I’m supposed to take the license test, but…” He feigned a thoughtful look toward the distant horizon, “-well, it wasn’t really on my mind now.” He gathered a decent story to back his claims a little, just to make sure no one batted an eye when he tried to take the test.

“You don’t have to worry about it, it’s not that difficult, trust me. I’ve been there, and if someone like me that has never entered the academy can make it, you can too.” He sniffled, ”Well, unless you’re aiming for the top spots, then, well… ”

Zayne tilted his head, cocking his left brow upward, “Really?” He hadn’t thought of the possibility of failing the test before, but he was relieved Jaspian mentioned it.

“Self-taught,” He chuckled, “There. The encampment, do you see it?”

Zayne followed his pointed arm, leading to a circular array of tents and shelters made of leather strips and cloth erected on a large flat patch of land, with wooden walls and a palisade defending the outer circle from the influence of the unknown. The man-made structures wreathed the scene with the color of worn white and brown from leather, mixing in with the usual green grasses and dark-brown soil. The white stumps of a shaved grove dotted the insides of the encampment, with kettles and campfires arranged neatly in a formation within the circle. A large flag waved from the gale of the wind, displaying the kingdom’s banners. Smaller flags with different colors—representatives of the guilds, followed beneath. One of them, the smallest one, belonged to the green badgers, Jaspian’s guild.

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“Not impressive, I know. but it is erected within a day, so all in all, it went pretty well,” Jaspian mumbled as we approached an open entrance. Two men wearing armor of different sizes and colors rose their hands, only letting them through when Jaspian mentioned the captain’s name, Hubert.

Zayne unhorsed the steed once they were inside. Jaspian led him to the massive pavilion in the middle, “Commander’s tent,” he said, smiling from ear to ear, “Come! Commander Brenhart is waiting. You might want to know; He’s one the best prospects In the golden lion’s guild, reaching E-rank in just half a year after he got his license.” Jaspian winked. “Now he’s a few steps away from D-rank. He’s like… at E-8, I think?”

The light faded once they entered the pavilion. Colors of the sun bled through the few openings all around the edges of the tent, and in the center, sat a blond man with two older gentlemen, his hair contrasted amiably with his azure eyes. Zayne noted he wasn’t that much older than himself. Handsome, Zayne concluded after a short look. A large oak table spread across the center, obscuring their bodies by half while seated. The other two men, almost twice Brenhart’s age, spared a glance at Zayne, then snorted as they looked away. All of them wore ornate armors, but Brenhart’s were especially grandiose. Worn below his neck was a full set of heavy-looking steel, enameled with radiant gold with a large, dark blue cape clasped behind his back. He stood with imperious gallantry.

“What is this?” He asked as he studied Zayne and Jaspian, perturbed. “A survivor? From Burg? I thought we’d rescued everyone?”

“He came from the lake, Sir!” Jaspian half-shouted, his voice creaking as he continued, “Sir Hubert asked me to escort this man to the encampment!”

“Hubert… Did yo—he find anything about the Death wraiths?” He continued his line of questioning. The other two men grew interested once that question left Brenhart’s lips, “The last report said that they are active near Burg.”

Jaspian turned his eyes aside. They curled in such a way as if begging Zayne to answer in his stead. “I… was carried by them. By the time I woke up after the invasion… The few men escorting me and the dead bodies of others spoke about working with them. Said something about the dead bodies, and…” Zayne scratched his right jaw, “Well, that’s about it… They died from a warg attack after.”

Brenhart grew silent. His blue eyes radiated with a calm fury, “No doubt to use the corpses to do something stupid.” He sighed, “I’m here to contain the new dungeon, not to deal with this bullshit, gentlemen.” He said, lowering his gaze to the two gentlemen sitting across him. “You heard him, bring your soldiers out from here and deal with them yourselves. Don’t disrupt our operations any further.”

The two men shared a glowering look. Then one slammed his fist on the table, almost cleaving it apart. Specks of wood flew about as he shouted, “I’m here under the kingdom’s orders. And you, an outsider, dared to speak against us?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever-“ Brenhart waved his hand, “I’m paid to deal with the containment of the new dungeon, not this death wraiths jargon. Jaspian, kindly see to it that these two gentlemen find their way outside.”

Zayne had never seen the color of one’s face so quickly turning pallid until now. Jaspian’s body jerked with a tenseness locking his body’s movements, but he eventually uttered a meek yes.

Their footsteps echoed inside the pavilion. None spoke another word until the cloth covering the entrance flapped upon their exit. Zayne sighed in relief, then turned his head toward Brenhart. At first, he thought of him as a stern, pompous man, but after that display, he started to think differently.

“So many complications for such a simple task.” Brenhart said as he brushed off the splinters of wood peppering his desk, “Burg is a mess—if you haven’t known already. It is now considered a destroyed town, scribbled off the outer western continent. The biggest natural disaster since… well, since Eltaria.”

Eltaria. The elvish town near the outer eastern continent. Everyone had heard about what happened—the news of an invasion spread faster than flies, and Burg would just be the next hot topic gossiped in taverns and told among friends in the wilderness.

Zayne kept his gaze low, practically staring at the dirt flooring. “Is there… anyone else from Burg left in here?”

“The healthy ones left to Basin, mostly consisting of merchants and rich nobles visiting the town. They had sufficient protection from their bodyguards, so they survived with little difficulties.” Brenhart rested his hand on the large table, his eyes grim, “The other, less… wealthy ones… well, most either died when we tried to resuscitate them or never found the will to wake up. You’re free to look in the sick bay if you want. But I don’t want to get your hopes up.” He leaned his head closer, “Before you leave, Tell me, what happened exactly?”

Zayne recited the events in full detail. There was no need for lies when it came to mentioning that night. Brenhart’s head leaned closer with each sentence he spoke, preserving his glowering stare, only relaxing once Zayne finished, “I see. That matches the details from a few others. A dark point in the sky, swirling red clouds, and a rain of monsters,” he linked his hands, “-and we’re all too late to do anything about it.”

The cloth door unfurled upward; light from outside spilled in through the opening, revealing the slumped figure of Jaspian. “T-The lieutenants and their armies had left the camp, sir.”

Brenhart mustered a smile, “See to it that this man gets some food and drink, then make sure he follows the next caravan leading to Basin.” Brenhart studied his tattered clothes, “He looks healthy enough, it’s just his clothes that were a mess. Hand him decent clothing after—the kingdom loved their uniforms, then follow Ronald’s instructions for further commands.”

Jaspian hooted from his nervousness and led Zayne outside, “That was brutal…” he grumbled, and Zayne simply chuckled. He found him likable, despite his outward acts of awkwardness.

Another downtrodden sigh left Jaspian’s soul as they marched to the canteen, where food was almost abundant, and clean water, even more so. Zayne salivated that the sight, his hunger seemed to explode from the delightful smells digging into his nostrils and the sights that screamed ‘EAT US’, “The boons of having a lot of adventurers in a spot is that we’re good at hunting. These are all monster meats, prepared by the kingdom’s cook. Don’t be afraid, I’ve chomped on these for the past few days, and I’m as healthy as an ox.” He said, flexing his biceps. “Wait here, I’ll fetch a fresh set of clothes for you.” He scrunched his nose, “I don’t want to be rude, but… you reek of death, man.”

Zayne held his laughter. If only he knew…

The shade was enough to thwart the flaring sun as noon scalded the encampment. Zayne sat after picking up a piece of meat and a glass of water, noting their distinct smell and taste; gamey, he thought, but it wasn’t bad. It was midway through his meal when Jaspian returned, cradling a thick set of brown and green clothing, and the tips of his fingers clasping the trim edges of a boot. “Here… these should fit. You can change somewhere over there.” He pointed at a distant empty-looking spot.

It took a while for Zayne to find a quiet, unassuming spot near the canteen. He discarded his hole-ridden clothes, marred with dark spots where blood refused to rinse off, eliciting memories of his three-day vacation in the lake. Replacing his previous barbaric outfit, the comfort of a set of clean-looking leather vest blanketed him; brown from top to bottom, slashed with green in a few areas, unmarred with stink and stains of blood and dirt. The long sleeves provided decent shade against the scowl of the sun, with long trousers and boots warding the influence of the wilderness. He clasped his rusty plate mail back, then returned, feeling significantly fresher and… clothed.

Jaspian handed him a waterskin made of cured leather.

Zayne mouthed thanks as his mind wandered to the sick bay. He knew the risks of people recognizing his identity. But… there was a chance his friends were there. He had to see them. “Jaspian. Can I visit the sick bay?”

“Sure.” Jaspian replied, his eyes downtrodden, “I… didn’t like visiting that place, it feels like someone will die every passing minute, it’s disheartening. And… I have to tell you, all that you’ll see in there will be people with their heads covered with a white cloth.”