Raul found himself back at Viswall village where his home used to be.

He stood at the edge of what used to be his family’s home in Viswall and his heart sank immediately.

The once lively and warm house now looked like a forgotten ruin. Weeds and thick tendrils crawled over the walls, choking the life out of the structure. Grass had grown wild, spreading chaotically across the yard. Everything was dry, the plants brittle, and the ground beneath his boots felt cracked and scorched like a desert.

The air was heavy with heat, hotter than it should have been.

As he turned around, his eyes widened in shock. A massive wall loomed in the distance, stretching endlessly into the sky. It wasn’t a normal wall made of stone or wood. It shimmered, glowing faintly blue in places, like ripples across the surface of a lake. The wall felt unreal, more magic than material, and its presence chilled him to the core.

Raul’s thoughts raced. Is this the barrier Catalea warned me about? The one holding back the undead?

Driven by an uneasy feeling, he moved toward the house. The closer he got, the worse it looked. The door creaked loudly when he pushed it open, its hinges rusted and barely holding on.

Inside, the air smelled stale, filled with the scent of dust and decay. Everything was still there—furniture, dishes, even some of the decorations—but years of abandonment had left their mark. Ants crawled in long lines, making homes in the cracks, and patches of rust spread across anything metal.

Raul’s heart clenched as he reached his old room. The door was stiff, but he managed to shove it open. His room was just as he had left it, yet it wasn’t the same. The desk, bed, and shelves were all there, but they were faded, broken, and worn.

Dust covered everything, and cobwebs hung in the corners. It was as though time had swallowed the life out of his home. He went through some of the stuff , checking whether there was anything to salvage.

In his drawer , he found a pouch of money and a letter from Faith. The letter was addressed to him , saying that the money was meant to help him should he ever find himself back in their old home.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

As Raul stood in his abandoned childhood home, his mind drifted to Catalea’s warning.

She had told him to be ready for the effects of time differences. But even with that warning, he hadn’t expected this.

The home he once knew had been left to decay, and the climate felt like an entirely different world. He rubbed his temples, questions swirling in his head. Where is my family? How long has it been? And what happened to turn Viswall into this dry, lifeless place?

A faint noise broke through his thoughts. It was soft, almost like a rustle, but enough to snap him to attention.

Hope flared in his chest. Could it be my family? Or someone I know? Without hesitation, he bolted toward the sound. His feet moved faster than expected, and he felt an unfamiliar strength in his stride.

That’s when he realized—he wasn’t just running faster; he was taller, stronger, and more agile than he remembered.

He burst outside, scanning the yard for movement. But there was nothing. Just the swaying tall grass, bending slightly in the dry breeze.

He stood there, listening intently, the hope in his chest starting to waver. Was it just my imagination? Did I hear my own movements? He watched the grass closely, waiting for another sign.

Before he could react, a sharp sting pricked his neck. His hand flew up, feeling a small dart lodged there. Panic surged as he pulled it out and realized it was tipped with a tranquilizer. His vision blurred, and his legs wobbled.

Who fired this? Who’s out there? His thoughts grew sluggish as the drug took hold. The last thing he saw before collapsing was the figure rising out of the tall grass swaying around him.

Raul’s eyes fluttered open, his head pounding as he slowly regained consciousness. The air around him was cool and damp, the faint crackling of a fire drawing his attention.

He was in a cave.

As his vision cleared, he saw a small fire in front of him, its orange glow casting dancing shadows on the rough walls of a cave. Above the fire, a piece of meat roasted on a spit, its aroma making his stomach rumble despite the dull ache in his body.

He pushed himself into a sitting position, his muscles stiff but functional. As he looked around, his gaze settled on a figure standing near the cave’s entrance. It was a girl, about his age, with striking long red hair that fell in loose waves down her back.

Her face was undeniably beautiful, though her expression was far from welcoming. She looked tense, her lips moving silently as if she were muttering something Raul couldn’t hear. Is she chanting a spell? he wondered, his instincts kicking in.

He tried to place her face, to remember if he’d ever met her before, but nothing came to mind. She wasn’t familiar, yet there was something about her stance—alert, cautious, and ready to act—that made him wary.

Her clothes told a story of survival: old, dirty, and patched in places, as though she had been living off the land for a long time. She looked nothing like anyone Raul would’ve expected to meet in Viswall.

When she finally turned toward him, her bright eyes locked onto his. Her hands were steady, but the tension in her expression didn’t fade.