When he woke up, all Davon could remember was darkness. Quiet, cold, still, and never-ending. Then his lungs subconsciously drew breath again.

That was when the pain started.

Every breath burned as if he’d inhaled embers. Davon tried to scream, but he couldn’t open his mouth. He tried to move, to curl into a ball, but his limbs didn’t listen. He couldn’t even open his eyes. The only movement he could muster was a twitch of his fingers.

Panic gripped him. He was trapped in his own body, inhaling pain with each breath, feeling every agonizing millisecond of it until…

He heard his heart beat. A slow, drawn-out beat, echoing in his head. The movement felt as painful in his chest as the breath in his lungs. But with each anguished pump, the agony began to subside.

The change was miniscule, at first. The pain seemed reluctant to leave. And as it faded, Davon found no answers to the questions bouncing around his frightened mind.

How much time had passed while he was stuck inside his body? Where had he been before this? What horrors were awaiting him after?

Finally, when the pain had faded to a dull ache that was all too familiar, Davon’s eyes shot open.

Regret immediately surged through him as his left eye erupted in a different kind of pain. He reached out instinctively to rub the pain away, but as soon as his finger made contact with the eyelid, another wave of agony flooded through his body. Gritting his teeth, Davon waited for this new tide of anguish to recede.

But this time, when the pain faded, it left new clarity in its wake. Slowly, Davon’s memories began shifting into place.

Memories of his death.

At first, he could only remember the moment directly before he died. The arrowhead drawing and closer to his head was the first image his dazed mind conjured into being. Soon, he remembered more and more, rapidly recovering his memory of the past few days, then further and further back.

But there was something else. Layered in with pictures from his own life were flashes of strange imagery which he couldn’t place. They were vague, almost dreamy, like memories of memories…

With a shudder, Davon opened his eyes again.

He was lying in a bed, in a room built in the same style as the Guild House. The familiarity put him at ease. Looking around, he saw there were two other beds in the room, both occupied. Relief washed over him as he recognized the beds’ occupants as Kai and Lyla.

Davon sat up, cautiously stretching his limbs. He felt sluggish, and each movement brought with it more of that familiar dull ache.

Blinking hard, he tried to focus on inspecting his companions, relieved to find no immediate trace of their previous deaths. He frowned when he spotted their fingers twitching, realizing they were going through the same painful process he’d just completed. Still, he was glad to know they were back with him.

Under all these feelings, however, Davon was aware of something else. Like a shadow beneath the waves, doubt lingered in his heart. It was an unnatural weight, pressing on his chest in an attempt to keep him down, to drag him back to the blackness of death.

He remembered Grant’s warning, when he was first invited to become a Revenant.

‘Every time you die… it takes a toll. Resurrection, even more so.’

Davon thought he was beginning to understand.

His pondering was cut short when Kai suddenly sat up in bed, face buried in his hands. The young man was breathing heavily, clearly in a panic.

“Kai?” Davon called out, his voice nearly unrecognizable. The word stung as he realized just how dry his throat was.

Kai turned to look at Davon. His face was contorted with fear, but he calmed visibly as he quickly scanned the room.

Finally, he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

“Well… that was utterly harrowing.”

“Yeah,” Davon agreed. “Yeah it was.”

Kai continued to breathe deeply, and Davon’s eyes wandered to the bow leaning against his bed. His Reliquary was glowing ever so faintly. Feeling a tug in his gut, almost like the bow was calling to him, Davon reached for his weapon.

As soon as he wrapped his fingers around the bow’s handle, the weight on his chest lessened. He took a moment to inspect the runes on its side, noting that the final one had taken shape.

Not a moment later, Lyla stirred in her bed, gently pushing herself up into a sitting position. She seemed to be having a different experience from her companions. More than anything, she looked drowsy, as if she’d just woken from a dream rather than undergoing resurrection.

“Lyla!” Kai exclaimed.

Lyla jumped, shocked out of her drowsiness. “Oh. We’re all here,” she noted, looking anxiously around the room. “And so are our Reliquaries.”

Davon watched as Lyla picked up her spear, placing it in her lap. Her expression grew calm as soon as the weapon was safely within her grasp.

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Looking down at the bow in his hands, Davon savored his own growing sense of peace. He felt himself smiling as he ran his fingers gently along the bony surface of the weapon’s limbs.

Suddenly, the door to the room opened. A familiar masked figure stepped through, halting when he realized the trio was awake.

“Ah, you’re finally up.” Doctor Yurren’s keen gaze swept over the trio as he held the door open behind him. “Took you long enough.”

The group shared confused looks before Davon spoke up.

“What do you mean? How long were we… gone?”

“Just shy of three weeks, boy,” the doctor replied. “But you’re awake now, and you seem to be fully recovered. Physically, anyway. So, please leave this room. Other patients have need of it.”

With that, Doctor Yurren turned and left, before the bewildered Revenants could ask any more questions.

Lyla and Kai looked at each other, then at Davon. As one, they shrugged. Then they gathered their weapons and left the room.

One look around confirmed that they were back in Walden’s Hold. In fact, they were in the Guild House. Leaving the infirmary, they soon found themselves in the garden where they had first met that bright summer day.

Compared to that morning, the garden had lost some of its luster.

The many assorted flowers were wilting. Their colors seemed muted, though Davon couldn’t tell if that was simply because the crimson sunlight cast everything in the same dull shade of red. Then he turned his attention to the tree which was the centerpiece of the garden. Unease coiled through his stomach as Doctor Yurren’s words finally sank in.

That’s why the plants look unhealthy.

Looking at his teammates, he saw they were having the same realization.

Autumn had arrived.

“That… that can’t be right.” Davon said, his mind fighting against the truth. “Did our resurrection really take that long?”

“Well… the Revenants in my family did mention it could take some time.” Kai’s voice was heavy with defeat. “But I always thought they meant a day or two, not this…”

Lyla remained silent for a while. When she did speak, her tone was determinedly even. “Going forward, we need to think things through more carefully.”

“Yes… each death will cost us much more than I initially thought,” Davon affirmed, thinking about all the time they had lost. “We were foolish to assume the enemy couldn’t use magic as well.”

“We were foolish to assume we would measure up to whatever was in that encampment.” Lyla searched through her cloak, letting out a sigh of relief when she found her book. “It was overconfidence that killed us, more so than the monsters we faced.”

Kai slammed his fist into the palm of his hand. “We need to get stronger!”

“Even when we do, we can’t allow ourselves to underestimate our enemies,” Davon retorted, staring down the young warrior.

“Sounds like you have learned a valuable lesson in death.”

Grant’s voice startled the trio. Turning, they saw the old Revenant standing at the entrance to the Guild House, arms crossed.

“And you’re right,” he said gruffly. “You need to grow stronger. I think it’s about time I showed you how.”

Grant turned to leave, gesturing for the group to follow him deeper into the Guild House.

“While we walk, there are things you should know,” Grant began, his tone unusually serious. “One of the neighboring cities, Heinburg, has fallen.”

The words fell on Davon’s ears like hammers, sending a shudder down his spine as Grant continued:

“A week ago, a considerable force of Crimson Reavers laid siege to the city. Yes, the Guild finally decided on a name for these monsters. The siege lasted only three days.”

“Heinburg is gone?” Lyla asked, her voice hollow with shock.

“Presumably occupied. But… no survivors ever made it out of the city.” Grant’s broad shoulders sagged. “We can only guess, but everyone who lived there is likely dead.”

“What of their Revenants?” Kai asked in bewilderment. “Heinburg had a contingent of Stalwarts larger than the one here.”

Grant’s answer confirmed Davon’s fears.

“Dead, the whole lot of them. They reformed here. We’re waiting on their resurrections to get details out of them.”

“Please tell me the Stalwarts here are taking things more seriously now,” Lyla pleaded.

“They claim we’ll be safe.” Grant shook his head in annoyance. “They’re convinced we won’t be attacked because we’re not further inland from Heinburg. They’re treating this as a simple war, when we’re dealing with otherworldly invaders.”

“Maybe when the rest of the Stalwarts resurrect, they can convince the local ones they’re wrong,” Kai suggested.

“Aye, but enough about that for now. We’ve arrived.” Grant stopped before a set of ornate stone doors. “The Imbuement Chamber. Where your growth really begins.”

The trio shot Grant questioning looks in unison, but Grant ignored them and pushed the doors open. Davon strained his eyes. He couldn’t discern anything beyond the chamber’s darkness.

Stepping back, Grant indicated that the group should enter. They obeyed after a slight hesitation. As soon as they were inside, Grant closed the door behind them, leaving them completely in the dark.

Anxiety gripped Davon as he continued to walk forwards, gently feeling around for… well, anything. He tried calling out for his teammates, but his voice seemed to get absorbed into the darkness around him. Unpleasant memories of his resurrection surfaced in his mind. He gripped his bow, fighting off a sense of weight pushing down on his chest.

Thankfully, these reminiscences were cut short when a voiced echoed all around him.

“Revenant found. Beginning assessment.” Without any visible source, the voice seemed to speak directly into Davon’s mind. “Rating physical capabilities: Strength three, Endurance five, Agility four. Rating magical capabilities: Resonance two, Aptitude eight.”

Incredibly confused, Davon felt his mind racing. What did all these numbers even mean? And how did they compare to other Revenants?

“Results: Average Novice,” the voice stated. Davon felt somewhat insulted. “Compatible materials detected within chamber. Commence Imbuement?”

The sudden question sent Davon’s mind scrambling for useful context. Imbuement was a good thing… right? He remembered the Boneshapers using the term when they made his Reliquary stronger.

“Uh… yes,” Davon sputtered.

“Commencing Imbuement.”

A strange feeling washed over Davon as soon as the voice made its announcement. It was like a thousand pins and needles had suddenly been pushed into his skin all at once. Then they pushed deeper, into his bones. He expected pain, but never felt it.

After a few awkward minutes of silence, the voice finally exclaimed: “Imbuement complete. Capabilities improved: Endurance six, Agility eight, Resonance five, Aptitude twenty.”

Davon was surprised to hear how much the process had seemed to strengthen him, even if it was only represented by numbers at this point. In particular, the jump in aptitude caught him off guard. He wasn’t sure how much an increase of twelve points would do, but it sounded like a lot.

And as if to answer his question, the voice spoke again: “New results: Powerful Novice. Process complete, releasing Revenant.”

Before he could process these words, Davon was startled by the sound of stone doors sliding open behind him, bathing him in light. Taking this as a sign that he should leave, he walked towards the open doorway and stepped outside, back into the hallway where his companions and Grant were waiting for him.

“You probably won’t notice the difference immediately,” Grant said, smiling at the apparent confusion lingering on their faces. “But trust me, out in the field, this will make quite the difference.”

The trio shared a look. Davon saw his own strange mixture of apprehension and anticipation brewing in his teammates’ eyes.

“Oh, and before you ask, no one knows who decided the Chamber should speak,” Grant added, a hint of irritation in his voice. “And if you ever find out, do let me know. I’d like a word.”