Medekeine pointed. “Pain.”

The obedience seals reappeared. The div let go of the wagon and fell screaming to the ground.

“You’re hurting her,” I said.

“I’m hurting it,” Medekeine answered. He kept his eyes on the div whose skin started to smoke.

Her screams intensified—

“Stop it,” I warned.

“Or else?”

“Stop it,” Kajal affirmed. “Our party dynamics would suffer if we don’t learn to consider each other’s reservations.”

That was what she was worried about?

Medekeine seemed dead set on defying her order. He held Kajal’s gaze for a terse moment—a perfect image of dwarven pride. Eventually, he scoffed and released his hold over the div.

The little girl whimpered.

“Not a pleasant affair,” Logain said, “dealing with monsters. But, she did threaten our demise.”

“She probably refers to the Lord of Terror,” Paz said. “It’s not uncommon for ancient monsters to hold him in high regard.”

I knelt beside the div. “That doesn’t justify our reaction. She reserves the right to her opinion just like us.”

The div looked at my extended hand with curious eyes and accepted my offer. Her thin hand settled in mine; I helped her to her feet.

Medekeine scoffed. “A right to her opinion? Heh. You have no idea what she is or what she has done.”

The neighbors had said similar things about me too after my mother’s death. I couldn’t compare my situation as a child to the div’s. But, it made us kindred spirits of sorts. Who did Medekeine think he was?

“Let’s keep going,” Kajal said, taking the lead.

We continued past a busy sawmill that handled all of Skeelie’s lumber needs, and then we crossed a wide stone bridge built over a sparkling stream. The stream flowed out of Dreadwood and cut a path through the sawmill before disappearing in the distance.

An outpost stood at the other end of the bridge, forming the first line of defense against invaders from Dreadwood. Back when I’d first arrived at the city, this outpost had been unmanned.

Now? It bustled with encampments and defensive fortifications, reinforced by troops from the city guard. A platoon of about fifty soldiers manned the outpost, casting wary eyes in the direction of Dreadwood.

Kajal spoke briefly with the captain of the platoon who allowed us passage through the camp. On the outskirts of Dreadwood, where the forest lay thinned by lumberjacking activities, a squad of rankers—casters by the looks of it—worked hard to raise a border wall.

“Good luck keeping the goblins out with that,” Logain said as we passed.

The casters shot us annoyed looks.

Again, Kajal stopped to speak with them. And, I marveled at the ease with which she commanded respect. We followed a dirt path into the forest, leaving the casters behind us.

“What did they say?” I asked.

Kajal replied aloud for the benefit of the others. “Ezin has imposed a gag order. The soldiers can’t speak freely about their activities, but they have been tasked to establish a barrier around the forest line. Potential invaders would be funneled through carefully selected kill zones.” She glanced at the forest. “The lumberjacks aren’t pleased, however. They sense unease from the soldiers, but with little to go by, they worry that the city is being high-handed.”

“They worry rightfully,” Paz said. “All of this secrecy is unnecessary. The people will learn about the potential invasion soon enough, causing the city to devolve into chaos. Ezin probably intends to eke out as many charges as he can from the World Shrine while he has the chance.”

“I’d do the same in his position,” Logain said. “Who are we to judge?”

“We shouldn’t,” Kajal affirmed with a nod. “The soldiers, however, warn of strange activity in the forest. They say it isn’t unusual for a fey cloud to rise at night these days, somewhere in the north. It has prevented them from sending scouts into the forest.”

Medekeine growled. “The goblin mines. If we wish to find the leader of this horde, that is where he will be.”

The goblin mines? From what I’d learned, the little critters resided in a mountain range to the north. Those mountains were also closer to Harkonean than any other elf village. Hopefully, we weren’t too late.

Kajal led us through the forest, sticking to the path. We encountered a few monsters of the Dread Hopper and Dread Snake variety. However, most of them scurried away as we approached as if sensing our power.

Dusk soon fell upon the forest, bringing an end to the first day of our journey. We camped beside the dirt path and built a small campfire to stave off the cold. [Silhouette] roused as dusk deepened into night, taking great interest in the sight of the forest.

I ordered the little monster to remain hidden within my shadow and snarled when it disregarded the order. It subsequently obeyed. Silhy was still too weak to use for anything other than combat, which sucked because I could use a scout. Something about Dreadwood felt off tonight like a favorite shirt worn inside out.

Where before the forest darkened rapidly with the onset of night due to its enchantments; the night didn’t come easily this time, as though the trees were scared of what it would bring. I discussed my reservations with my teammates. They hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary during our journey, but they deferred to my expertise on all things dark.

Kajal and I won the first watch, which offered a welcome distraction from the weirdness in the forest. I waited for the others to sleep and approached her atop a mound.

She turned to me with a smile, having anticipated our discussion. “India.”

“What?”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“That’s where I’m from. India. You?”

“Nigeria.”

Kajal hummed. “I’ve never met a Nigerian. Nice to meet you, Damien. I didn’t expect to run into another [Migrant Soul] so soon.”

“Me either. Another person from Earth, huh? You’re actual proof that Vizhima is not one long, fever dream.”

“I hope it isn’t!” Kajal laughed. “You have no idea how terrified I was after my arrival. Oh, what am I saying? I’m sure you do. No one can dream up a setting with this much detail.”

“You’d be surprised.”

We chuckled at the joke.

“You have questions, yes?” she said. “I’m curious what makes you think I am better suited to answer.”

“The Traveler’s Room,” I said. “And, Logain. You both seem to have a better grasp on whatever is going on.” I glanced in the direction of the tents. “Is he also a [Migrant Soul]?”

“Logain? Gosh, no. He’s the first of my allies.”

That caught my attention. “You have the same quest I do?! The one that requires a team?”

Kajal’s eyes matched the stars in the sky. “Tell you what, Damien. I’ll share everything I know if you tell me what you found inside the Labyrinth. I had to abandon a quest during the dungeon run . . .”

“[Kajal the Explorer], huh?”

“Yes. That one.”

I considered my options. It won’t hurt to share that information, right? Especially with a fellow [Migrant Soul]. The more people that knew about the danger of The Apocalypse, the better my chance of stopping it.

“I found a creature within the Labyrinth,” I said. “Some kind of angel or demon . . . I’m not really sure. I think it’s connected to the end of the world.”

Kajal took a moment to reply. “The Apocalypse, huh? It’s only three hundred and thirty-eight days away.”

“Then, you have been tasked to stop it like I have?”

“I think you should take a seat, Damien.” She made room for me atop the mound.

The area was too small to contain two people without them pushing up against each other. Kajal didn’t lean away.

“Where to start from?” she said. “Oh, yes! The Pyramid of Rebirth. Was it the same for you?”

“The same?” I chuckled. “Flame Guardians. Pyronodons. A thousand homunculi . . .”

“And, one survivor. You get your traits after you beat the challenges and reincarnate. I’m guessing it’s [Born of Fear] and something else for you?”

“[Against the Odds]. I also got a tutorial quest after I reincarnated. This is crazy! No wonder the [System] warned of an error.”

“What error?”

I glanced at Kajal. Pressing up against her warm body like this did no favors for my nerves. “The [System] errors. They’re right there at the bottom of every quest. You don’t have them?”

“I don’t . . .” Kajal frowned. “Damien, what is your main quest called?”

“[Heroic Adventure], why?”

Kajal ran a hand through her hair. “Haa. That’s also the name of my main quest. And, you see . . . there can’t be more than one Hero at a time.”

“I don’t follow.”

“Every Hero who gets sent to Vizhima receives the same tutorial quest to visit the holy temple in Avillac. Or, at least, that’s what the Masters say. The [System] prepares for the Hero’s arrival by showing the Masters signs and portents.”

Just like it had done with Nana . . .

“Bottom line is,” Kajal continued, “there can only be one Hero. One Hero to the North. An Adversary to the South. Both are vital to the Apocalypse.”

I recalled our meeting in the Labyrinth. “I’m not the Adversary . . .”

“I know. The location of that [Migrant Soul] has already been confirmed. It’s the reason Logain didn’t kill you on the spot—”

“He can try.”

“No, listen,” Kajal turned to face me. “The last Apocalypse happened thousands of years ago. No one remembers what that looked like. The current Masters only have a few notes to work it, but they won’t hesitate to remove anyone that threatens their plans. Two Heroes may have been sent to defend Vizhima at some point in the past, but until I confirm that, we need to hide your existence.”

Oh, great. The last thing I needed was more killers gunning for my head. “Won’t Logain be a problem, then? He knows about me . . .”

“Logain might be an acolyte of the temple. But, he is loyal to me. As long as he understands my reasons, he would respect them.” She gathered my hand in hers.

Her skin felt warm to the touch—alive, as though a divine fire danced beneath her flesh. We were already too close for comfort, and her action put us even closer.

“Beating the Labyrinth,” she said, “has drawn more attention your way than you can imagine. Never reveal that you are a [Migrant Soul] to anyone, Damien. For your safety. Who else knows about this?”

I wanted to say, but then I shook my head. “No one.”

“Good. Keep it that way.”

“The [System] wants me to kill you though.”

Kajal’s eyes widened. “Same here! That’s the major reason I kept you alive. I do not like being told what to do.”

“Cheers to that.”

We lapsed into a short silence which allowed us to ruminate on all we had shared.

“Where does that leave us, then?” I asked. “Do we work together to stop The Apocalypse? Kill this Adversary guy or something?”

Kajal shot me an odd look. Even without the light of the campfire, I could read her expressions quite well in the dark.

“It doesn’t bother you,” she said, “to kill a person just because the [System] asks? The Adversary is someone who went through the Pyramid and its challenges, just like us.”

“Yeah . . . it bothers me.” Especially if the Adversary was being forced to act against their will.

However, my experience with the old man Homunculus had taught me the [System] would always get its way. What then could we do if it boiled down to us versus them?

Kajal released my hand. I instantly missed her warmth and the smoothness of her skin.

“Well, it doesn’t matter,” she said. “Fate won’t lighten our load regardless of our desire. The Masters tried to take matters into their own hands and eliminate the Adversary. They failed woefully. He was last spotted leaving the Beastmen Enclave for the orc settlements. He’s out of their reach now.”

“And, what about you? What do you intend to achieve here in Dreadwood?”

“What indeed? Is stopping a goblin horde not reason enough?” When I didn’t answer, she sighed. “You’re right. It isn’t. This is simply where I am expected to be. Make no mistake, none of what we do happens by coincidence.

“Famine, war, dungeon awakenings, catastrophe . . . the arrival of migrant souls triggers a chain of consequences that accelerate Vizhima’s demise. In doing so, the [System] provides theaters for migrants to level up rapidly. It encourages us to actively seek places of conflict.”

“And, what is the point of all of this?” I asked. “What is the point of yanking us from Earth to play this sick game?”

“Damien . . .”

“If the [System] holds the power to save or destroy the world, why involve us in its shenanigans? It doesn’t make sense!”

I wasn’t stupid enough to think that I had a great future waiting for me on Earth. Heck, if the [System] was to be trusted, I had even died in my sleep. A second chance at life beat death of any kind whatsoever, but I had been robbed of a choice in the matter.

A small breeze blew past our camp. The leaves of the surrounding deridum trees whispered in its passing. It was only a breeze, but that uneasy feeling I had harbored since the night began intensified.

[Silhouette] shivered beneath me.

Kajal picked up on my unease. “Damien? What is it?”

I looked at the sky. A black mass bore down in the distance, carried by the breeze. It seemed like a cloud, though the term curtain was probably more accurate. Clouds weren’t meant to be that dense or thick.

Complete darkness overtook the forest wherever the cloud passed—enough that my elven eyes struggled to pierce the gloom. The feeling of wrongness doubled within me as it approached, even as the stars winked out of existence.

“Damien?”

“There’s something!” I hissed. “Something in that cloud. The campfire. Douse the campfire!”