Water gently tapped her cheek one after the other in rhythmic unison. Each droplet combined and grew with every succeeding bead of collected water. Finally, when the collected bead had grown too large for the crest of her cheek, it rolled over and broke into many random, bending streaks, spreading across her face in every direction. This moment played out over and over again, as the girl had witnessed this event play out with a similar outcome for more times than she had bothered to consider remembering.

Then. A crash.

Not a crash alike the subtle thunder growling in the distance, within this particular crash came also the sound of clinking metal, a wooden thud, and perhaps, even a voice.

Unsure of much, though now, awake from the listlessness that held her frozen in place for a time which felt nonexistent. Her other senses now gradually began to awake and perform their dedicated roles. The strength in the girl’s body rose modestly; she tightened her hand into a fist, but the premature action proved too much and consumed the meager amount of energy built. Instead, shifting attention towards her vision, her eyelids felt akin to a rusty, iron portcullis as the muscles in her face vibrated and twitched in stress to open.

Now peering into a blurry gloom, the twilight of night allowed only shades of dark blues and purples. Her eyes, unblinking many times before the trickling rain aided to clear the settled grime and debris obstructing the girl’s sight. Believing she’d mustered the strength to rise from her stagnant dormancy, her body jerked and trembled as the girl clumsily fumbled to her feet.

Around her was a dark and dingy scene, with little light shining from a moon shrouded in dense, colorless fog. She stared deeper into the gloom and found a flickering, orange glow from behind the ruins of a small cabin in the distance. Without further thought, she took her first step in the direction of the ruined cabin. The ground was soft and damp as she stumbled along the way for the first half of the short trek but quickly began to find the comfort and ease to walk normally.

The gentle but consistent rainfall masked much of what might lay beyond into the stygian night. Provided with short glimpses of revealing light, lightning lit up the sky far into the distance like sparks gleamed on a struck anvil. In those glinted moments, she saw spiked, spire-like mountains enclosed around massive, monolithic towers. None of which seemed familiar to the girl; confusion clouded her brain just like the mist she cut through on her path to the ruined cabin that she had now come upon. A snap crunches beneath her foot as a twig surrenders to the pressure of the girl’s weighted footstep.

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“Who’s there!” Let out a voice within the cabin

The girl, though surprised, remained motionless.

“You one of them?” the voice said, carrying a slight tremble. “No,” the stranger said with a breathy exhaust of air. “Had you been, youd’ve attacked by now.”

Still hesitating, her mind only of a proclivity to flee; it was not fear that dominated the girl but the confusion of not understanding any of what was happening.

“I,” the girl said as she interrupted herself with a hand over her mouth, wishing to undo her choice to respond.

The voice behind the flicker reached out once again and said, “You have no reason to fear anything from me, I assure you.” Another heavy exhaust of air followed the words, though, this time, sounding chunky and wet. “I am not long for this world, I’m afraid.”

Curiosity now replacing confusion, the girl moved into the cabin and came upon a man on the ground with his back against a stone pillar.

“Oh,” he said, looking up at her, his eyes widening in surprise.

Around his belly, slick, shining crimson reflected from the glowing torch by his side. His hand held tightly to his stomach while red liquid continued to flow from him, forming a small puddle under the man. While most of the man’s body had been adorned in full-plated armor, his visor had been lifted, and the bare skin of his face was a ghostly white with dark circles hung upon fatigued eyes.

This man was dying.

With a groan, he adjusted his posture to a more upright position; the move seemed to only worsen the hemorrhaging. The man gritted his teeth through the increase of pain and, after a moment, looked over at the girl once more with a now tightened gaze.

“So you’re one of them.”

“One of who?” the girl uncomfortably responded.

“The damned, the dead,” he said.