Evelyn
The night always feels colder when I’m out here alone. Maybe it’s the quiet, or maybe it’s just my nerves, but my hands won’t stop shaking. Every time I come to the well, it feels like the village is watching me. Not the people, but the village itself—like it knows what I’m doing and it’s just waiting for me to fail.
I don’t have a choice, though. I never do.
I glance back at the small house, where Mother and Orin are waiting. Orin’s breathing had gotten worse tonight. I could hear the way he struggled with every breath, how his chest rattled with that awful cough. The medicine I stole barely does anything, just holds off the inevitable. I don’t know what I’ll do when it runs out.
Father would’ve known what to do. He always had a plan, always knew how to keep us safe. But he’s gone now, just like so many others, and I’m left to pick up the pieces. Stealing a few coins here, grabbing whatever medicine I can find… It’s never enough.
The guards don’t care. They wouldn’t care even if they knew what I was doing. They’re too busy worrying about beasts and undead or whatever nonsense the old stories talk about. No one notices a desperate woman sneaking around at night, trying to save her family. No one cares.
I drop the bucket into the well, listening as the rope creaks under its weight. The sound is too loud in the stillness, and my heart jumps with every tug on the rope, as if any moment someone will step out of the shadows and grab me. But no one comes. No one ever does.
I start to pull the bucket back up when something makes me pause. I feel it—someone’s watching me. I’ve felt this before, the strange tingling at the back of my neck, the way the air feels different, like I’m being hunted.
Slowly, I turn, my heart racing.
There’s nothing there. Just shadows.
But something’s wrong. The darkness feels thicker, heavier, like it’s waiting for me to look away. I grip the bucket handle tighter, my knuckles turning white. I’m not imagining this.
“Who’s there?” I whisper, my voice barely audible, but the words hang in the air, unanswered.
I take a step back, my eyes scanning the shadows, and that’s when I see him. A shape, darker than the night itself, standing just beyond the well. It’s not a person, not really. The figure is tall, but it’s made of shadows, like something pulled straight out of the stories my father used to tell us about creatures lurking in the dark.
I can’t breathe.
Arlen
Arlen stepped out from the shadows, his form materializing in the faint moonlight. The look on the woman’s face was one of pure shock. Her eyes were wide, her hand clutching the bucket as if it were the only thing tethering her to the world.
He raised his hands slowly, hoping to diffuse the situation, but he knew his appearance alone was enough to terrify anyone. He wasn’t human anymore—at least not in the way she understood.
“I’m not here to hurt you,” Arlen said, his voice low and calm, though even he could hear the unnatural edge to it.
The woman didn’t move. She just stared at him, her body tense, her eyes flicking between him and the path back to her house. Arlen could see the fear in her gaze, but there was something else, too—curiosity. She wasn’t running. She was too stunned for that.
“What… what are you?” she whispered, her voice trembling.
Arlen hesitated. How could he explain something he barely understood himself? He took a slow step forward, keeping his movements as non-threatening as possible.
“I’m… passing through,” he said, the words sounding strange in his own ears. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
The woman’s grip on the bucket tightened, but she didn’t run. She stared at him with wary eyes, as if trying to make sense of what she was seeing. He could tell she didn’t fully believe him, but something kept her from bolting.
“Who are you?” she asked, her voice steadier now, though still laced with fear.
Arlen hesitated. He didn’t know how much to reveal, or if she would even believe him. But there was no going back now. He had been seen.
“My name is Arlen,” he said simply. “I’ve been… watching. I didn’t mean to intrude.”
The woman’s eyes narrowed slightly, and she took another cautious step toward him, her fear tempered by a growing sense of confusion.
“Why were you watching?” she asked, her voice more curious than accusatory now.
Arlen’s gaze shifted slightly, his mind racing for an answer that made sense. He couldn’t explain his curiosity, not in a way that didn’t make him sound like some strange, shadowy figure lurking in the dark. But the truth was, he had seen her desperation, her struggle—and something in him had connected to that.
“I wanted to know more,” Arlen admitted, his voice low. “About you. About this place.”
“You… you’re not—” she said cautiously, her voice steadier now. “I’ve never seen anything like you.”
Arlen nodded. “I’m not from here.”
She studied him for a moment longer, then took a deep breath, as if gathering her courage. “What do you want?”
Arlen thought about it. What did he want? Answers, survival, yes. But now that he was standing here, face-to-face with her, he realized that there was more to it than that. He had seen her desperation, her struggle. Maybe he wanted to help.
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“To talk,” he said finally. “You’re stealing to survive. I can see that.”
The woman flinched at his words, her eyes darting back to her house, as if expecting someone to appear. Arlen could see the conflict in her, the tension between wanting to protect her family and the fear of being discovered.
“You don’t know anything about me,” she said defensively, but there was no venom in her voice—just exhaustion.
“I know enough,” Arlen replied, his voice calm. “Your brother and mother are sick. You’re stealing medicine.”
The woman’s eyes widened, and for a moment, Arlen thought she might break down. But instead, she just shook her head, her voice soft. “What choice do I have?”
Arlen didn’t answer. He knew what it was like to be faced with impossible choices, to do whatever it took to survive. He had seen enough in his past life to recognize the look of someone who had no other options.
“I don’t have a choice,” she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “My father… he’s gone. My brother and my mother—they’re all I have left.”
Arlen could feel the weight of her words. She had been carrying this burden for too long, and it was breaking her.
“Maybe I can help,” he said, surprising even himself with the offer. “I can do things… things that might help.”
The woman stared at him, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Why would you help me?”
Arlen hesitated. He didn’t know how to explain it, but something about her situation struck a chord deep within him. Maybe it was the soldier in him, the part of him that had always been driven to protect others. Or maybe it was something else—something about this new world that was forcing him to rethink everything.
“Because I can,” he said simply.
The tension between them remained thick, the weight of unanswered questions hanging in the air. Her gaze darted between Arlen and the faintly lit path leading back to her home. Arlen could sense her hesitance, the conflict brewing within her.
She didn’t trust him—he could see that—but there was something else in her eyes, something that stopped her from fleeing. It was the same look he had seen in soldiers before, the kind that spoke of exhaustion, of running out of options.
“I just want to talk,” Arlen said, his voice soft but firm. He could see the gears turning in her head, her instincts warring with her need for help.
Evelyn swallowed hard, still gripping the bucket tightly. “Talk? About what?”
Arlen took a slow breath, trying to ease the tension between them. “About what’s happening here. About you, your family… and maybe about what I can do to help.”
Evelyn hesitated, her eyes narrowing as if weighing his words carefully. She took a small step back, her gaze flicking toward the village once more before she finally spoke. “Not here. The guards patrol this area, and I can’t afford to be seen with someone like you.” Arlen’s chest ached ‘Am I that much of a monster?’. Outwardly, he showed no reaction.
Arlen gave a nod. “Lead the way.”
Evelyn’s hesitation lingered for a moment longer before she finally relented. She glanced back toward the village, then motioned for him to follow her. “My name is Evelyn, by the way,” she added softly as she turned away. They moved quickly and quietly, slipping through the shadows as Evelyn led him toward a more secluded area near the outskirts of the village, where the old, crumbling walls provided enough cover from any prying eyes.
As they reached the spot, Evelyn set the bucket down, her shoulders still tense, her body ready to flee if things went wrong. Arlen remained standing, his shadowy form blending into the darkness around them. The silence stretched between them, heavy and uncertain.
Evelyn spoke first, her voice a little steadier than before. “Why are you really here? You said you wanted to help, but I don’t even know what you are. Why should I trust you?”
Arlen considered her question for a moment. He didn’t have all the answers—not even close—but he understood where she was coming from. He was a stranger in a strange world, and everything about him screamed danger, even if he had no intention of harming her.
“I don’t expect you to trust me,” Arlen said, keeping his voice calm. ‘I’m still figuring out what I am myself.’ “But I’m not here to hurt anyone. All I know is that I’m different now, and I have… abilities. Abilities that might be able to help you and your family.”
“Different now? What do you mean? You clearly aren’t human, what are you a monster coming to devour all of the villagers?” Evelyn half joked, hoping his reply would negate her suspiscions.
“I don’t know what I am, I awoke in a strange dead forest south of here and you are the first person I’ve talked to in days.” Arlen chose to omit his past as a human in an entirely different world. “Something about you caught my eye, and I ended up watching for longer than I should have.”
Evelyn’s expression shifted. “You came out of the Ghostwood Forest?” she asked, a flicker of shock in her voice.
Arlen tilted his head slightly. ‘That name is a bit unimaginative,’ he thought. “I suppose so? I don’t know where I am or how I got here.”
“Hmm.” Evelyn looked down for a moment, her cheeks flushing slightly before she quickly looked back at him.
Arlen noticed the subtle change in her demeanor, her quick glances and the way she avoided looking directly at him. “What’s wrong? Did you hear something?” he asked, scanning the area and crouching down slightly in readiness.
“N-no, it’s not that,” Evelyn stammered, her voice tight as she avoided his gaze, staring off to the side like she was suddenly very interested in the crumbling wall. “You… um, you don’t have any clothes on.”
Arlen blinked and slowly looked down. It hadn’t even crossed his mind—his body was made of shadows, shifting and swirling with no real substance, but now, under the moonlight, he realized that despite the lack of human flesh, certain features were still… unmistakably present.
“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, feeling a rare moment of embarrassment. “I… completely forgot. I’ve been wandering around like this and didn’t even think about it.”
Evelyn’s face flushed even deeper, and she turned away slightly, fidgeting with the hem of her cloak. “I just thought I’d… mention it.”
Arlen’s hand moved to cover himself instinctively, even though the swirling shadows that made up his form were only a vague resemblance of human anatomy. “I’ll… figure something out.”
Before the awkwardness could linger, a familiar low growl echoed from behind them. Arlen turned just in time to see Fenri emerge from the shadows, his glowing eyes locking onto Evelyn.
The wolf padded forward, his dark fur blending seamlessly with the night. Evelyn stiffened, her breath catching in her throat, but Arlen raised a hand quickly. “It’s alright,” he reassured her. “He’s with me.”
Fenri approached, his massive form towering over Evelyn, but his eyes held no malice—just a calm, steady gaze. He sniffed the air around her, tilting his head slightly as if appraising her.
Then, with a surprising gentleness, Fenri lowered his head and nudged her leg.
Evelyn blinked, her tension easing as she looked down at the wolf. She tentatively reached out, her fingers brushing through Fenri’s fur. “He’s… friendly?” she asked softly, a hint of disbelief in her voice.
Arlen allowed himself a small smile. “He usually has good instincts.”
Fenri sat down beside Evelyn, his tail swishing across the ground as if he had decided she was now part of their small pack. The tension between the three of them eased, the night growing quieter as they settled into an uneasy truce.
“You said your brother is getting worse,” Arlen said, breaking the silence. “What exactly is wrong with him?”
Evelyn’s hand stilled on Fenri’s fur, her expression growing somber. “He’s been sick for months. It started with a fever, but now… his lungs are getting worse. He can barely breathe, and I don’t know how much longer he can hold on.”
Arlen’s chest tightened at her words. He had seen sickness before, but this world was different. He didn’t know the illnesses or remedies here, but something inside him—something tied to this strange new form—made him think he could help.
“I’ll need to see him,” Arlen said softly. “I don’t know if I can help him, but I’ll try.”
Evelyn looked up at him, her eyes searching his face for any sign of deception. Then, with a slow nod, she stood up. “Alright,” she whispered. “I’ll show you.”