Morning came with a muted gray sky and a chill that clung to the air. By the time we were on the road again, the village was a distant memory, its wary stares and whispered conversations left behind. The rolling hills ahead were dotted with more signs of life—smoke rising from scattered farmsteads, the occasional sound of livestock carried on the wind.

It wasn’t much, but it was enough to remind me that this world was bigger than our ragtag group and the ever-looming shadow of Ecclesion.

“What’s the plan again?” Farron asked, stretching as he walked.

“South to Blackstone,” Kael said without looking back. “It’s the nearest town of any size. We’ll see if the resistance has contacts there.”

“And if they don’t?” Jessa asked, her voice sharp as ever.

“Then we keep moving,” Kael said simply.

“Fantastic,” Farron muttered.

As we walked, I found myself falling into step with Jessa. She moved with the ease of someone who had spent her life on the road, her gaze flicking between the horizon and the group as though she were constantly assessing potential threats.

“Can I ask you something?” I said after a while.

She gave me a sidelong glance. “Depends on the question.”

“This resistance Kael keeps talking about... what is it, exactly?”

She sighed, adjusting her grip on her dagger. “You really don’t know anything, do you?”

“Not a clue,” I admitted.

Jessa was quiet for a moment, as though deciding how much to tell me. Finally, she spoke.

“The resistance isn’t a single group,” she said. “It’s more like an idea. Small cells, scattered across Kaedralis, each fighting in their own way. Some focus on sabotage, others on protecting villages from Ecclesion raids. But they all share one goal: to break Ecclesion’s hold on the world.”

“And how’s that going?” I asked.

Her lips twitched in something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Poorly.”

The mention of Ecclesion brought back the image of the Light Eternal, its fiery form towering over the battlefield. I couldn’t stop myself from asking.

“What is the Light Eternal, anyway?”

Jessa’s steps faltered slightly, and I saw a flicker of something—fear? Anger?—cross her face. “You’re the Chosen One. Shouldn’t you know?”

“I’m not exactly getting a lot of memos from above,” I said.

She sighed again, her shoulders stiff. “The Light Eternal is... complicated. Most people believe it’s a divine force, a manifestation of the gods’ will. Ecclesion uses it as proof that their rule is ordained. But not everyone agrees.”

“What do you think?”

Jessa hesitated, her gaze distant. “I think it’s powerful. Dangerous. And whatever it is, it doesn’t care about us.”

The conversation left a knot in my chest, but it also sparked something else: curiosity. There was more to this world than I understood—layers of history and belief, conflict and control.

And I was smack in the middle of it.

We stopped at midday near a ruined tower that jutted out of the landscape like a broken tooth. Its stones were weathered and cracked, moss clinging to the edges, but there was still a faint sense of purpose about it, as though it had once been important.

“What’s this?” I asked, glancing at Kael as he knelt to inspect the area.

“Watchtower,” he said. “From the old empire.”

“The old empire?”

Kael nodded, brushing dirt from a carved symbol on one of the stones. It was faint but still visible: a circular design with a starburst in the center.

“Before Ecclesion, there was the Empire of Kaedralis,” he said. “They ruled these lands for centuries. Built roads, fortresses, watchtowers like this one. But it collapsed long before Ecclesion rose to power.”

“What happened?”

“Depends who you ask,” Jessa said, sitting on a nearby rock. “Some say it was greed. Others blame rebellion. Ecclesion claims the empire fell because it turned its back on the Light.”

“And what do you think?”

“I think history’s written by whoever’s holding the sword,” she said.

Kael stood, his expression unreadable. “The Empire was flawed, but it kept the world connected. Ecclesion filled the void, claiming divine authority. Now, most of Kaedralis is under their control.”

“Most?” I asked.

“Not all,” Kael said. “The southern territories are harder to reach. Mountainous, isolated. They’ve resisted Ecclesion’s rule, but they’re scattered, disorganized.”

“And you think they’ll help us?”

“It’s possible,” he said. “They’ve been fighting Ecclesion for years. If we can unite them, it could turn the tide.”

The conversation stuck with me as we moved on, the ruined tower fading into the distance. The world was starting to take shape in my mind—a fractured land divided by faith and power, with Ecclesion at its center like a spider in its web.

But the more I learned, the more questions I had.

Why had I been brought here? What was my role in all of this?

And most importantly, what exactly was the Light Eternal?

By the time we reached the outskirts of Blackstone, the sun was sinking low in the sky, casting long shadows over the narrow streets. The town was larger than the hamlet we’d left behind, with rows of squat, stone buildings huddled together for protection. A tall wooden palisade surrounded the town, its gate guarded by two men in mismatched armor.

“Let me do the talking,” Kael said, stepping forward.

The guards eyed us warily as we approached, their hands resting on the hilts of their weapons.

“What’s your business?” one of them asked.

“We’re travelers,” Kael said, his tone calm but firm. “Looking for rest and resupply.”

The guard studied him for a moment before nodding. “Stay out of trouble,” he said, stepping aside to let us pass.

Inside the walls, Blackstone was bustling with activity. Merchants hawked their wares from makeshift stalls, children darted between the crowds, and the smell of roasted meat filled the air. It was a stark contrast to the quiet desolation of the hamlet we’d left behind.

“Feels almost normal,” Farron said, glancing around.

“For now,” Jessa muttered.

Kael turned to the group. “We split up. Gather supplies, listen for news. Meet back at the inn by sundown.”

“And what about me?” I asked.

“Stick with Farron,” Kael said. “He’ll keep you out of trouble.”

Farron and I wandered through the market, the din of voices and clinking coins surrounding us. He was in his element, chatting easily with merchants and picking up bits of gossip as we moved from stall to stall.

“Anything interesting?” I asked as he haggled over a bundle of arrows.

“Mostly rumors,” he said, handing over a few coins. “Ecclesion’s forces have been seen near the southern passes. Some say they’re looking for something—or someone.”

“Let me guess: me.”

“Probably,” he said, grinning. “But don’t worry. You’ve got me to watch your back.”

As we made our way back to the inn, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were being watched. The crowd seemed too fluid, too purposeful, like ripples spreading from an unseen disturbance.

“Farron,” I said quietly. “Does this place feel... off to you?”

He glanced around, his easy grin fading. “Yeah. Let’s pick up the pace.”

We hurried through the streets, weaving between stalls and ducking into side alleys to avoid drawing attention. By the time we reached the inn, my heart was pounding.

Kael and the others were waiting for us inside, their expressions tense.

“What’s wrong?” Jessa asked as we entered.

“Not sure,” Farron said. “But something’s not right out there.”

Kael nodded grimly. “Then we stay sharp. Whatever’s coming, we need to be ready.”

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As I sat down, my hand resting on the hilt of my dagger, I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d finally started to understand this world.

Or if it was about to prove me wrong.

The inn was a modest, cramped affair, with a low ceiling and walls stained from years of smoke and damp. The common room was filled with the hum of quiet conversation, punctuated by the clink of mugs and the scrape of chairs against the wooden floor. Despite the warmth of the fire crackling in the hearth, a chill lingered in the air.

Kael leaned over the table we’d claimed in the corner, his voice low. “We can’t stay here long. Ecclesion’s reach isn’t as strong this far south, but their agents pass through places like this all the time.”

“Then we move at dawn,” Jessa said, her dagger tapping softly against the table. “Before anyone gets too curious about us.”

“Agreed,” Kael said.

“What about the resistance contacts?” Farron asked, folding his arms. “Isn’t Blackstone supposed to be a hub?”

Kael hesitated. “It is. Or it was. The network here has gone quiet in the last few months. If there’s anyone left, they’re keeping their heads down.”

“Great,” I muttered. “So we’re hiding in a place where the people we need are too scared to help us?”

Kael shot me a sharp look. “They have every reason to be scared.”

“Enough,” Jessa said, her tone cutting through the tension. “We’ve got bigger problems. Something spooked you two out there. What was it?”

I glanced at Farron, who shrugged. “Could’ve been nothing,” he said. “Or it could’ve been Ecclesion. The crowd was shifting weirdly, like someone was keeping tabs on us.”

Kael’s expression darkened. “We can’t rule out the possibility that they’re already here.”

“Fantastic,” I said, rubbing the bridge of my nose. “Because things weren’t stressful enough already.”

“We stay together,” Kael said firmly. “No one goes anywhere alone. And if anything feels off, we leave immediately.”

“Got it,” Farron said, his usual grin replaced by a rare seriousness.

Jessa nodded, but her gaze lingered on me for a moment longer than I liked. “If you’re the reason they’re here, Chosen One, you’d better be ready to prove you’re worth the trouble.”

“I’m working on it,” I said, resisting the urge to roll my eyes.

The conversation shifted after that, focusing on practical matters: our route south, potential safe houses, how to ration what little we had. I contributed where I could, but it was clear that the others had far more experience with this kind of thing than I did.

Eventually, the group dispersed. Kael went to check the perimeter, Jessa and Orin retreated upstairs to the rooms we’d rented, and Farron lingered at the bar, chatting with the innkeeper.

I stayed at the table, staring into the fire and trying to piece together everything I’d learned so far.

The Light Eternal was the core of Ecclesion’s power, both in belief and in reality. Whatever it was—a god, a force, or something else entirely—it inspired devotion and fear in equal measure.

The resistance, scattered and fractured, was trying to stand against it. But the more I thought about what Kael had said, the more it sounded like they were barely holding on.

And then there was me: the Chosen One, plucked from my world and dropped into this mess without so much as a manual.

I sighed, leaning back in my chair. The weight of it all felt like it was pressing down on my chest, making it hard to breathe.

“Thinking hard, or hardly thinking?” Farron asked, sliding into the chair across from me.

I gave him a tired look. “Trying to make sense of all this.”

“Good luck with that,” he said, smirking. “This world’s a mess.”

“No kidding,” I said. “How do you even deal with it?”

“Simple,” he said, leaning back. “Focus on what you can do right now. Everything else? Worry about it later.”

“Sounds easy when you say it like that,” I muttered.

Farron shrugged. “It’s not. But it beats driving yourself crazy.”

The door to the inn creaked open, letting in a gust of cold air. I glanced over instinctively, my hand drifting to the hilt of my dagger.

A lone figure entered, their cloak pulled tight around them. They moved quickly, their boots scuffing against the floor as they approached the bar.

“Another traveler?” Farron said, raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe,” I said, watching as the figure leaned in to speak with the innkeeper. Their voice was too quiet to make out, but there was something about their posture—tense, hurried—that set me on edge.

The innkeeper nodded, sliding a key across the bar. The figure grabbed it and disappeared up the stairs without a second glance.

“Well, they’re in a hurry,” Farron said.

I frowned. “Something’s not right.”

“You think everyone’s suspicious,” he said, grinning.

“Because they usually are,” I shot back.

The uneasy feeling lingered long after the figure was gone. I stayed in the common room, staring into the fire and trying to shake the sense that something was about to go wrong.

When Kael returned, he placed a hand on my shoulder, startling me.

“Go upstairs,” he said quietly. “Get some rest. I’ll take watch.”

I hesitated, then nodded. “Alright. Just... be careful.”

Upstairs, the rooms were quiet. Jessa was already asleep, her dagger resting within arm’s reach, while Orin sat by the window, his gaze fixed on the dark streets below.

I slipped into the other room, where Farron had claimed the larger of the two beds.

“Night, Chosen One,” he said, smirking as he pulled a blanket over himself.

“Night,” I muttered, collapsing onto the smaller bed.

Sleep came reluctantly. My dreams were a jumble of shadowy figures, glowing eyes, and the deafening roar of the Light Eternal. I woke several times, each time with my heart racing and the vague sense that I’d heard something in the distance.

The last time, just before dawn, I stayed awake.

Something was coming. I could feel it in my bones.

And whatever it was, it wasn’t going to wait for us to be ready.

The predawn air was heavy, pressing against my chest as I sat on the edge of the creaky bed, staring out the narrow window of the room. Outside, the faintest light on the horizon was starting to bleed into the darkness, soft and gray. The streets of Blackstone were still, but the unease that had settled over me the night before hadn’t gone anywhere.

Farron was still snoring softly in his bed, his bow leaning against the wall within easy reach. I envied his ability to sleep so soundly, though I supposed living constantly on edge could wear a person out.

I stood, pacing the small room to try and shake the restless energy coiling in my chest. My fingers drifted to the dagger at my belt, running along the worn leather of its hilt.

“What am I even doing here?” I muttered to myself.

The question wasn’t new, but it felt heavier now. Each fight, each step further into this fractured world, seemed to pull me deeper into something I didn’t understand.

A faint knock at the door jolted me from my thoughts.

“Who’s there?” I whispered, moving toward the door with my dagger drawn.

“It’s Kael,” came the low reply.

I opened the door to find him standing there, his sword at his side. His face was drawn, his expression grim.

“Something’s wrong,” he said without preamble.

I nodded. “I’ve been feeling it all night.”

“Get the others,” he said. “We need to move.”

It didn’t take long to rouse the group. Jessa was up in an instant, her dagger already in hand, while Orin simply nodded and began packing his things without a word. Farron grumbled something about hating mornings but was ready within minutes, his easygoing demeanor replaced by sharp focus.

“What’s the rush?” Farron asked as we gathered in the small common area near the top of the stairs.

Kael gestured toward the window. “The streets are too quiet.”

I frowned. “They were quiet last night, too.”

“Not like this,” Kael said. “This feels... deliberate.”

We moved quickly, descending the stairs and stepping into the inn’s common room. The air was thick with the smell of stale beer and smoke, and the innkeeper was nowhere to be seen.

“Anyone else think it’s weird that Margis isn’t here?” Farron asked.

“She could just be sleeping,” I offered.

“Or Ecclesion got here first,” Jessa said, her tone clipped.

Kael raised a hand to silence us, his gaze fixed on the front door. “Stay close. We leave quietly.”

The moment we stepped outside, I felt it.

The air was heavy, tinged with something that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. The streets were empty, but the silence wasn’t natural—it felt like the world was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.

“Tell me this isn’t normal,” I whispered.

“It’s not,” Jessa said, her hand resting on her dagger.

Kael pointed toward a narrow alleyway leading out of the town square. “This way. Stay sharp.”

We moved quickly, sticking to the shadows as we navigated the maze of streets. The buildings loomed over us, their darkened windows like empty eyes watching our every move.

Then I heard it: the faint clink of armor, the muffled sound of boots on cobblestones.

I froze, my heart pounding.

“They’re here,” Kael said, his voice low but urgent. “Ecclesion soldiers.”

“How many?” Orin asked, his knife already in his hand.

Kael’s jaw tightened. “Too many to fight.”

The sounds grew louder, echoing off the narrow walls of the alley. I strained to listen, trying to pick out any details. The soldiers’ voices were muffled, but there was something about their tone—controlled, deliberate.

“They’re searching for us,” Jessa said, her eyes narrowing.

“We need to keep moving,” Kael said. “If they corner us, we’re finished.”

“What’s the plan?” Farron asked.

Kael glanced at me, his expression unreadable. “We split up. Ash, you’re with me. The rest of you take the northern route. We’ll regroup outside the gates.”

“Split up?” Jessa said, her voice sharp. “That’s a terrible idea.”

“It’s the only way,” Kael said. “If they catch all of us together, it’s over.”

Before anyone could argue further, the soldiers’ voices grew louder, and the clinking of armor was joined by the rhythmic thud of marching boots.

“Go,” Kael said, his voice firm. “Now.”

Jessa hesitated, her gaze flicking to me. “Don’t get yourself killed, Chosen One.”

“No promises,” I muttered.

She nodded once before slipping into the shadows with Orin and Farron.

Kael and I moved quickly, darting through the twisting alleys and sticking to the darkest corners. The sounds of the soldiers’ search echoed behind us, growing fainter with each step.

“You think they know we’re here?” I whispered.

“They wouldn’t send this many men if they didn’t,” Kael said.

“Fantastic,” I muttered. “So much for staying under the radar.”

We reached the edge of the town just as the first light of dawn began to creep over the horizon. The gates loomed ahead, their heavy wooden beams stark against the pale sky.

Kael stopped, his gaze scanning the area. “Wait here,” he said, stepping forward to check the path ahead.

I nodded, crouching behind a pile of crates. My heart was still racing, and my grip on the dagger felt slick with sweat.

Then I felt it—a presence, cold and suffocating, like a shadow pressing down on my chest.

I turned, my breath catching in my throat.

A figure stood in the street behind me, shrouded in a flowing black cloak. Their face was hidden beneath a hood, but their eyes glowed faintly with an unnatural light.

“Chosen One,” the figure said, their voice like a whisper carried on the wind. “You cannot escape your destiny.”

I staggered back, my mind racing.

“Who—what are you?” I demanded, raising my dagger.

The figure tilted their head, their glowing eyes narrowing. “I am a herald of the Light Eternal. And you... are an anomaly.”

Before I could respond, the figure raised a hand, and the shadows around them seemed to ripple and surge.

Kael was suddenly there, his sword flashing as he stepped between me and the figure. “Run!” he shouted.

“But—”

“Run!”

I didn’t need to be told again.

I turned and bolted toward the gate, my heart hammering in my chest. Behind me, I heard the clash of steel and the strange, distorted hum of the figure’s power.

The gate was close now, the open road beyond beckoning like a lifeline.

“Kael!” I shouted, glancing back.

He was holding his own against the figure, but barely. The shadows around them writhed and twisted, and every strike of his sword seemed to pass through the figure like smoke.

“Go!” he shouted again, his voice raw with effort.

I hesitated for a fraction of a second, torn between running and helping. Then I turned and ran, the weight of the moment pressing down on me with every step.

I reached the gate just as the first rays of sunlight broke over the hills. The others were there, their faces etched with worry.

“Where’s Kael?” Jessa demanded.

“He’s fighting,” I said, my voice shaking. “There was... someone. Something. He told me to run.”

“We have to go back,” Jessa said, her eyes flashing.

“No,” Orin said firmly. “If we go back, we’re dead. Kael knows what he’s doing.”

Jessa glared at him but didn’t argue.

We turned and fled, the open road stretching out before us.

I didn’t look back.

But I couldn’t shake the image of Kael, standing against that shadowed figure, or the weight of his last command:

Run.