[Chapter 2 - Possessor]

My feet landed on solid grass.

The dirt, the air, it all felt similar and yet, I could not shake off the feeling that something about it was inherently… different.

Looking behind me, within the door lay the world I knew, the sky entering its solemn blue hour as the sun finished its path.

A thin layer of orange separated it from the deep blue of the ocean, fracturing across the glass of the skyscrapers embedded within the landscape.

I wondered when it would be the next time I could see the same view again, feel the same warmth that radiated from that summer evening scene, and for a moment I indulged myself, taking it all in.

Holding onto the handle, I slowly pulled it towards me until, with a satisfying click, it closed.

I hesitantly twisted and pushed it back once more, just to see.

And that other world, the one I had spent my entire life in, the one which had held everything I had ever known, was gone.

In its place was a field of lush greenery.

And the door itself was just that.

A solitary wooden door, peeling in its white paint, discarded atop a grassy hill.

And I stood there with it for a moment longer, one hand still clutching on to that handle.

***

Now that I was actually here, the world around me felt even more surreal.

I slipped my gun into its holster, concealed discreetly beneath my long coat. I would not need it here, using it would only draw unwanted attention.

The open plain did not last long, bordered by a forest which gave no indication as to what it held.

As I headed down, I turned to look back once more.

The door stood there alone, a defiant frame of white against a sea of blue and green.

I wondered to myself how it had been left there in the first place.

Whether this one, like its counterpart in that junkyard, had been placed there intentionally.

And whether, once my task was finished, I could rely again on this same door to return home.

These thoughts coloured it with a certain melancholy in my eyes, and my gaze lingered on it for a brief second more.

Then I turned around, and continued on my path.

***

Blood was the first indication. That, and the silence.

The trees crept in around me as I wandered through the forest, their branches growing thicker and thicker with every step.

Gradually, the blue dome that had been the sky above was now shrouded by dense foliage, hidden behind a canopy of woodland green and brown.

Even then daylight pierced through.

Rays of sun cutting the forest dark, unrelenting yet comforting in its presence.

It seemed to almost warm the cool air, alleviating the chill crisp I tasted with every breath.

Vin had drawn numerous maps in his diary.

Some rendered intricate details of faraway towns and castles.

Others tracked oceans, spanned continents.

But here they were of no help.

There were no landmarks to discern my location, no clear markers to guide my way.

Here, there was nothing but endless trees and leaves.

And so I trudged on, accompanied only by the rhythmic crunch beneath each step.

I was glad at least that I had not arrived in some godforsaken hell hole.

The world around me was abundant with life; the air filled with the gentle sound of birds mingling with the soft swaying of trees, disturbed only by the occasional inquisitive squeaking of some small critter.

For a brief second I found myself relaxing slightly, surrendering myself to this comforting ambience which surrounded me.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

That was, until I saw it.

A crimson mark splattered across an oaken trunk.

Immediately I was wrenched back into the reality I faced.

My hand snapped towards my thigh, drawing out my knife as I gripped it tight in front of me.

The gun would be too loud, for now I did not know how many were near.

Reassurance of the soft polyamide handle quickly replaced the ease I had felt.

I scanned the trees, alert for even the slightest movement.

The sounds had died down, the forest smothered beneath an eerie silence which had taken its place.

A change which I had been oblivious to, immersed in my own world as I trekked endlessly forth.

Now, the mistaken rhythm I had lost myself to was replaced by the tension I felt and I advanced cautiously as I took everything in.

The silence, ears straining to hear anything that may contradict it. The cold air, brushing against the skin on my arms, seeming to cool even the sunlight which had appeared so radiant before.

And then, the bodies.

First hidden amongst the foliage, nestled between the roots of an unassuming tree.

And then more, and more, and more.

I had seen my fair share of blood, but I couldn't help but grimace at the sight that lay before me.

A collage of blood and iron: corpses strewn across the forest floor; limbs hewn and dismembered, littered across the thicket; arrows embedded in armour, marring the metal with sanguine trails behind them.

It was evident a battle had occurred.

A clash of blue and red, attested to by the fabrics of the soldiers and the contrasting emblems.

Judging by the smell however, or lack of, it had been fairly recent.

Decay had not yet graced this place, the bodies were still fresh.

I stepped forwards slowly, my eyes grasping at the scene.

The heads I encountered were fortunately still covered by their helmets, shielding me from undoubtedly haunting visages of horror and pain.

Their armour on the other hand yielded much more information.

The soldiers bore their colours with pride, adorning vibrant cloths in a clear display of allegiance.

For those in blue the metal was welded with an unmistakably Romanic inspiration.

Slabs of steel embraced torsos in a brutalist manner while their faces lay shielded behind a full metal mask.

As if not to be outdone, their counterparts bore thick plates of rigid steel and leather, red insignia radiating atop the surcoats they wore.

Scars and dents decorated each component, each one a testament to another blow sustained.

It was a wonder that blood had been spilt here at all. Both sides appeared more metal than flesh.

“Nothing.” My voice broke the silence, cautious but assertive.

I lowered my arm.

There was no life here.

Picking my way through the corpses, my eyes drifted from one body to another.

Whilst it was hardly a welcoming first encounter with this world’s inhabitants, the scene was at least useful.

That such an armoury had been left here made it obvious both sides had departed swiftly.

Arrows bore primarily upon the soldiers in blue, whereas their medieval counterparts sustained damage mostly from the front.

I pulled a splintered spear from the ground, briefly inspecting the shattered wood.

An ambush.

One the Romans had clearly lost, forcing them into a frantic retreat.

I tossed the spear to the side as I pressed on.

Occasionally I picked up another weapon, eager for anything I could use, but the majority of arms and armour I avoided.

They were too ornate, too distinguishable to be worn even if I was to find one which suited me.

Either that, or too heavily damaged and dulled with blood.

I would not want to mistakenly align myself to either faction, no matter how great the workmanship of their items were.

The smell of charred flesh, vile but subtle, disturbed the earthy forest aroma I had accustomed myself to.

Turning my head, my eyes traced it back to an array of scorch marks which lined several trees in the distance, blackening wood and carbonizing bark.

Yet the smell of sulfur I had expected along with it was non-existent. There was nothing to indicate any sort of gunpowder weaponry had been used to cause such devastation.

I began my way towards it but the sound of trickling water stopped me in my tracks.

My ears perked up.

It was faint, but undeniable.

The flow of water somewhere to my right.

A gentle sound, drifting through the melancholy silence of the battlefield, at odds with the carnage around me.

I walked nearer, careful to step over the discarded limbs littered across the forest floor.

It was getting louder, more prominent.

My knife was still in hand by my side, the handle held tightly in my grasp.

Closer and closer.

And there, amidst the branches, a clearing illuminated by broad rays of light.

This was where the battle had been thickest.

Bodies scattered everywhere, armour dented and gouged to almost scrap.

But it was evident to see why.

A single figure knelt there, hunched over by the stream; his weight propped up against a steel sword embedded into the ground.

Numerous arrows filled his back, tearing holes into the once proud blue cloth which trailed behind him.

The soldier himself was identifiably one of importance, his armour lined with equally muted gold.

As I walked nearer I remained weary, half expecting his head to jerk back to face me.

But no movement came, even when I stood right beside him.

I was surprised that even his equipment had been left untouched, abandoned by fleeing allies and pursuing soldiers alike.

The authority he held was clear. I admired the ornateness of the plating, carved humbly in the same minimalist fashion like those under his command.

The gold demanded an air of respect, whispering tales of untold battles, ordaining authority earned through renown.

All of which had ended.

Here.

My eyes tracked upwards, pathing from his dismembered arm towards his helmet, drawn to this figure whose presence dominated his surroundings.

Yet something caught my eye.

A wink, momentarily appearing beneath the neck plates of his cuirass.

I brought myself closer, discarding my fears of any sudden response.

Along the lining of his neck, discreetly exposed behind the imposing steel, a single metal chain snaked itself between the leather and tunic.

It was hidden there, carefully tucked away by its owner.

And I found myself, hesitantly, reaching out.

In spite of my discomfort, something drew me towards it, compelled forwards by some unknown force.

The man’s skin was cool to the touch, not quite chilled by the presence of death.

And the chain itself was light, delicate.

But as I slowly lifted it up I felt a weight pulling back.

My fingers traced it, pulling this unknown mass closer.

And it arose out of the fabric.

For a brief second I caught it: a beautiful glass vial capped on either end by ornate gold, pillars on each side as if a cage.

Inside lay a myriad of black and purple, suspended midair in its container.

And within, two eyes, irises of solid gold, staring straight at me.

Then the world exploded.

Darkness consumed my vision, pain smothering my nerves.

My face was aflame with agony, a fire which ran rampant through my body.

I opened my mouth to scream but no sound came out.

I stumbled back, eager to distance myself from its source, grasping back to feel something, anything but the suffering which filled my nerves.

But there was nothing else.

I was there, alone in the void, writhing out.

And before me, in front of me, eyes. Numerous eyes.

Irises alight, staring into me from the void, bearing holes into my flesh, piercing my soul.

My ears, pummelled by a gushing wind, assaulted by the incessant mingling of shouting and chanting in a foreign tongue.

Words, echoing with untold depth, reverberating in my mind.

Snarling, resonating, rasping and then…

Silence.