There exists a terrifying enigma on the planet, whispered in tales and feared across every kingdom: the Red Zones. These sprawling, desolate regions are vast, each as large as a country, yet completely uninhabited. To outsiders, they appear eerily quiet, with lifeless landscapes stretching endlessly, broken only by jagged cliffs and crimson-tinged soil. But their true danger lies in the unseen—a potent, suffocating force that radiates from the minerals buried deep within the land.
This force, an overabundance of magic particles, makes the Red Zones lethal to all who dare to enter. For those who possess even a sliver of magic within them—a trait shared by every living being on this planet—the outcome is horrifying. The magic within their own bodies rebels, clashing violently with the chaotic energy of the Red Zone. Within moments, their internal magic spirals out of control, leading to agonizing death. Those with weaker magic might endure slightly longer—ten to fifteen minutes, at most—but survival beyond that is impossible.
Because of this, the Red Zones remain largely unexplored, their secrets locked away. There are rumors, of course. Some speak of forgotten civilizations buried within, their remnants hidden beneath layers of crimson earth. Others claim that the Red Zones are cursed, the result of ancient, catastrophic magic gone awry. But no one truly knows. Every attempt to uncover the truth has ended the same way—with lifeless bodies scattered at the edges of these forbidden lands.
The boundaries of the Red Zones are stark. Travelers know to avoid the faint crimson hue that stains the air near their borders, a subtle warning that death lies beyond. Even animals, instinctively wary, steer clear, leaving these regions barren and hauntingly quiet.
Despite the danger, the Red Zones continue to capture the imagination of scholars and adventurers alike. What lies beyond the deathly expanse? Are there treasures or lost knowledge waiting to be uncovered? Or is it nothing but destruction and decay? These questions linger unanswered, as no one alive can approach close enough to find out.
The Red Zones were a mystery no one dared to unravel. Their crimson borders marked death, and the vast lands within remained untouched by life, a silent challenge to those foolish enough to imagine they could conquer the unknown. But Arlen had no time to dwell on such mysteries. His reality was far from the eerie desolation of the Red Zones.
He sat quietly in the corner of the Empire’s camp at the border of the Whiteland Kingdom. The air was thick with tension, the sounds of clanking armor and distant battle cries creating a constant, oppressive hum. Smoke curled from the horizon where skirmishes raged on, a grim reminder of the war.
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Arlen, though only a child, had little reprieve. As a slave in service to the Empire’s forces, he was tasked with running errands, fetching water, delivering messages, and tending to menial tasks for the soldiers. The weight of exhaustion hung on his small frame, but he rarely complained. His mind, always calculating, always observing, was what kept him going.
“Arlen! Arlen!”
The familiar voice pulled him from his thoughts. He turned just in time to see Mira running toward him, her face alight with joy despite the grim surroundings. Behind her was Deryn, his expression more reserved but no less relieved.
“Arlen!” Mira called again, reaching him in a few quick strides and throwing her arms around him. “I finally found you!” Her voice was trembling with emotion, as though seeing him again after months apart was the one good thing she’d had to hold on to.
“Mira,” Arlen said softly, his tone calm, as always.
Deryn approached at a slower pace, giving a small nod when he reached them. “It’s good to see you alive, kid,” he said, his deep voice steady. “We’ve been looking for you for weeks.”
“I’ve been here,” Arlen replied simply, his words lacking the dramatic weight of their reunion.
Mira pulled back, her hands still gripping his arms. “We didn’t know if you’d made it. After the last retreat, everything fell apart. They sent us back to the border camp because healers are ‘too important,’ but I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
Deryn folded his arms, glancing toward the chaotic activity of the camp. “Things aren’t looking good. The Whiteland Kingdom’s forces are pushing back harder than expected. The Empire thought they had the upper hand, but now… we’re losing ground.”
Mira’s expression darkened for a moment. “We’ve seen so many wounded, Arlen. It’s horrible. Every day, the infirmary is overflowing. And now, the Empire is struggling to keep their foothold in enemy territory.” She shook her head, forcing a small smile to return. “But seeing you here… it feels like something good, at least.”
Arlen nodded, saying nothing. He wasn’t sure what comfort he could offer, even if he’d wanted to.
The three of them sat down near the edge of the camp, away from the noise but close enough to feel the weight of the war looming over them. Mira talked about the endless work in the infirmary, the soldiers she and Deryn had tried to save, and the grim reality of those they couldn’t. Despite her words, there was an odd sense of relief in her voice, as if talking to Arlen gave her a moment of normalcy.
Deryn occasionally added his perspective, speaking about the tactics of the Whiteland Kingdom and how their forces seemed unnervingly coordinated. The Empire, despite its might, was struggling to maintain its hold.
For a while, they let the grimness of the war fade, finding solace in the simple act of being together. Mira leaned back against a crate, laughing softly as she recalled a moment from their old lives, and even Deryn allowed himself a faint smile. Arlen, as always, remained mostly silent, listening as their words painted pictures of a life that seemed so far away now.
But the moment didn’t last. A sharp call broke through the camp’s background noise, and a soldier approached, urgency clear in his voice. “We need healers at the infirmary. Now.”
Mira sighed, her cheerful demeanor slipping as she stood. “That’s us,” she said, glancing at Arlen. “Stay out of trouble, alright? We’ll come find you again later.”
Deryn gave a brief nod before following her. “Keep your head down, kid,” he said over his shoulder.
Arlen watched them go, their figures disappearing into the chaos of the camp. The faint warmth of their reunion lingered, but it couldn’t mask the cold reality of their situation. He turned his gaze back toward the horizon, his mind already drifting to thoughts of survival and the endless calculations of what might come next.