Aran strode through the forest, keeping up a pace of a quick walk. He was nowhere near as good as Naya out here, and without her to guide him, a slower pace was necessary to keep quiet. Though the sun was out, the woods were dark, and eerily silent as he moved. Now that he was on his own, his mind turned to getting back to civilization, and the complicated questions that would bring.

Would they be angry with him, the only survivor? They barely knew him, and as far as they were concerned, he got three people killed. He had little doubt about how much weight his explanation would carry. The troubling part was that he didn’t really have any proof. He didn’t feel he could accurately direct them to the cave, and besides, it was several days away, and through Naya’s woods. And beyond that, the dagger hadn’t made any mark besided a hole in his shirt, and the brand was gone too. These thoughts troubled him, making him second guess returning to Burville altogether.

No, he thought. I can’t just live in the woods until the world ends, and if they just give me a chance, I can explain. The mayor seemed like kind of a dick, but a reasonable guy. Maybe he’ll listen. Besides, these woods were creepy without Naya. Though Bu’umo had been fairly intimidating, to say the least.

Fallen pine needles crunched beneath his boots, making him cringe in embarrassment. He was not being very quiet. Though at least there wasn’t any snow on the ground anymore, most of it having melted. He could do without wet socks. The thought of cold, wet feet made him shiver, before he considered it a bit more carefully. Would he feel cold from that anymore? He’d walked barefoot in the snow for days without any issue, and as far as he could tell, he was none the worse for the experience. There was so much he didn’t understand about what had really happened to him, and how he’d changed. He needed someone to help him understand, so that he could learn some magic.

Although… Ben Crawford had made all those stone towers, right? That meant he’d at least figured some of it out, maybe Aran could learn from him? He grinned. Maybe he could learn to shape stone too. Or through a fireball! If anything could make the apocalypse bearable, it would be throwing fireballs like Mario. He suppressed a chuckle at the thought, remembering to keep quiet. Hopefully that Ben guy could help.

-------

The next morning, after spending the night sleeping in a tree, again, he increased his pace towards the town. He was getting close, if Naya had given him good directions. Though he supposed she did tend to set a fast pace, so she might have underestimated how long it would take him. He shook his head. He’d just have to see, and hope she was right.

At around what he guessed was noon, he stumbled upon a road. It was old, and the pavement was mostly eroded to just patches on the mostly gravel path. His spirits soared. One step closer to getting back to a shower, and hopefully learning magic. On the road, he made much better time, sacrificing stealth for speed. He figured he could just run like hell if anything out here went after him.

Strangely enough, he didn’t see or hear anything on the path, however. The rangers had said monsters attacked the town frequently, so he’d expected to at least see some sign of them out here. The silence of the forest surrounding him was deafening, his ears straining above the crunch of his boots on the gravel. He was so focused on listening that he didn’t realize he’d reached the town for several seconds after it came into view.

With a start, he realized he’d made it back. A surge of emotion washed through him. Elation, for finding other humans again. He felt victorious, having escaped that cave, and the terrors within. Sorrow at the loss of the others tempered it, however, tinged with anxiety at having to explain their loss to the Mayor. He put on a brave face, and approached the wall.

The road curved through the trees, ending at one of the large towers, where he could just see the top of a ranger’s head above the fortifications. He raised a hand to signal as he approached, calling out quietly, “Hello! Hello!”

The ranger on duty leapt up, eyes nearly falling out of his head as he leaned over the edge to see Aran walking out of the woods. He immediately rang the bell hanging above him, calling out incoherently. Aran raised an eyebrow. He’d have thought they’d keep it quiet, just like last time. He approached the base of the tower, looking up at the sheer stone.

He tried again. “Uh, hello? Sorry, I don’t know if there's a password or anything to get in. I, uh, well…” He stumbled. Where to begin? What was he supposed to say? ‘Hey, we got attacked and everyone died but now I’m back?’ Well, that did just about cover it, but it didn’t feel right to just be shouting about the others deaths like that. It was something to be spoken about in quiet conversation, somberly.

The sound of grating stone made him jerk his eyes down, as the wall to the left slowly slid to the side, the sound of murmured voices coming from the other side. He took a hesitant step towards it, seeing what looked to be several rangers, all holding weapons, surrounding a young man who made placating gestures before turning and walking to the opening.

A smile split his thin face, showing too many teeth. He spread his arms wide. “Hello Mr. Briggs! We’re so glad you’re back. I apologize for the reception, the rangers weren’t quite sure what to do when you arrived back out of the blue!”

Aran looked away, eyes downcast. “Oh, yeah, uh, I guess it would be odd. The others… they didn’t make it.” He looked back to the other man, whose narrowed eyes quickly assumed their open, inviting look from before.

“Yes, we were afraid that might be the case. But at least you survived! And made it back here in one piece, no less!” He cast a calculating gaze over Aran’s mostly intact clothing. “Come, I’m sure you’re tired, and we’ll need to debrief you. I am Ben Crenshaw, in charge of the town’s defense, I’ll take you there.”

With that, the man ushered Aran through the doorway, which closed with a thud behind them. The other rangers still stood there, staring as Aran passed with barely restrained hostility. Aran could practically feel their gaze on his back as they left the wall and walked down the narrow street.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll get this all cleared up in the debrief,” Crenshaw said, looking at Aran’s troubled expression. He smiled in what Aran assumed was supposed to be a reassuring way, but the man just came across as predatory. They turned a corner, coming to the Ranger barracks. Aran sighed with relief. “Ah, yes, I’m sure you’re looking forward to a shower. We’ll make sure you get one as soon as we’re done,” the older man said, eyes glinting.

As they entered the stone building, they passed through the central hall to a doorway in the rear, descending down a steep stairwell. At the bottom a narrow hallway filled with doors on either side greeted them. Crenshaw led them to a door partway down the corridor, opening it on silent hinges as Aran passed through into the sterile stone room. A table surrounded by four chairs sat in the otherwise unfurnished room. The only light came from a torch set into the far wall, flickering reflections dancing on the smooth walls.

“Please, take a seat. I’ll go get the mayor and the Captains, so we can begin,” he said, pulling the door closed as he turned and left down the hall. Aran nodded, nervously taking a seat at the large metal table, feet of the wooden chair scraping uncomfortably in the quiet. He tapped his fingers along his legs, anxious energy needing an outlet.

Several minutes passed. Aran twisted to look at the door, listening for any footsteps. He heard nothing, however. Either the room was very well sealed against sound, or nobody was out there. The sound of a fan kicking on alerted him to the vent near the top of the wall nearest the door, as warm air started blowing into the room. Huh, guess they have heating in here. Pretty impressive for a building built with magic.

He sat there a bit longer, anxiety growing. What was taking so long? He stood, going to the door. He’d just peek his head out, to see if anyone was coming. He grasped the doorknob, twisting. His hand slipped as the knob didn’t turn. Paranoia spiked through his mind. He grabbed the knob again, gripping it tightly and turning. His hand slid, the stone not budging an inch. He grasped it with both hands, trying in vain to turn the knob or pull the door open, but it was like the door had fused with the doorway around it, becoming one solid piece of rock.

He pounded a fist on the doorframe, frantic. “Hey! Hey the door won’t open! What’s going on?!” A voice in his mind whispered that he knew exactly what was going on. They obviously didn’t trust him, and were going to lock him up down here. He forced the thoughts away, pounding on the door harder. “Hello? Is anyone there! Please let me out! Please!” His fist only made a dull slapping thud on the stone door. He wasn’t even sure if anyone could hear him out there. His breath was coming in ragged gasps now, heart beating in his throat.

“Help! Please let me out! I’m trapped in here! I can explain!” It was getting a bit hard to breath now, and he was getting dizzy from yelling. He leaned against the door, stone cool on his forehead as he tried to control his breathing. He managed to get it under control, but his head wouldn’t stop spinning. He raised his fist, hitting the door weakly.

“Help… Help, please. I didn’t do anything…” He gasped, feeling nauseous as the spinning increased. He needed to sit, just for a minute. Then he could try calling for help again. He just needed to rest, to make the room stop spinning. He looked over at the chair, which looked miles away now. He turned a shoulder to the door, sliding down as his legs collapsed under him.

The room was still spinning, as the edges of his vision began to darken. His thoughts came slower as he slumped to the floor. I think something’s wrong… I need to rest… but I need… to get out… His eyes fluttered, as he desperately tried to remain conscious. There was something he needed to do. He was supposed to go… somewhere. Or maybe not? It was too hard to think, he was just so tired. He would just close his eyes for a moment, then he’d remember. Just for a minute.