The two ants struggled up his leg and travelled down to his feet. From there they had a clear shot of a tiny puddle back on the rock. They jumped in and floated for a moment. Then, they slowly got out, grabbing their berry along the way.

Jack’s eyes followed with interest.

One of the insects was big and carried nothing, while one was small and toted their fruit.

Their journey came to an end when they reached the entrance of a tiny cavity: the ants tried, but couldn’t fit together. So, they turned on one another. The bigger ant triumphed. It took the berry for itself and started to feast upon the fruit.

Juice dripped down the ant’s head. The insect drank it and, after a moment, convulsed. The half-eaten fruit rolled down the side of the rock, crashed into the moss and released a wisp of green smoke as the insect dropped dead.

Jack sighed at the sight and descended from the rock.

The forest was dense with massive pines, boulders and fallen trees. It was a creature that would protect from the beasts that crept at night. Nonetheless, he couldn't resist his instincts. Every time a leaf rustled, a tree creaked, or a beast howled, his eyes burst open and his hands clenched.

He couldn’t rest or bare looking at natural selection. So, he chose to continue the trudge through this hellish place, even if he was beaten down and even if he’d cheerfully kill anyone who’d make this night even worse.

The forest had parts where too many trees had fallen to pass or where the ground had turned to swamp.

It’s like the world’s doing all it can to stop me, Jack thought, trying to navigate around such an area. Mud kept seeping into his shoes and he started to shiver.

Inside him, every reasonable instinct screamed that he was an idiot. Yet he was almost at his destination. Indeed, the days of travel through Rednaro were miserable, but struggle was the path to freedom.

The words "one last quest" pushed Jack forward. He had a hard time comprehending true independance or if it was rthat good of a thing. At least he knew it was better than serving Guardian another second. Anything was.

A gust of wind blew and his curly black hair fell on his eyes. He wiped it back up and shoved his hand in his green tunic's pocket.

Not here?

Then, Jack searched in his pouch and took out the first compass shaped thing he gripped. It was a matchbox.

I’m an idiot and a clown, he growled and turned around. Don't put things in those pockets, you fool -- they're less useful than a bascalle on a stick!

Keeping his eyes on the ground, he backtracked along his footsteps. A minute later, he stopped, gagging.

The compass floated in a pool of red.

Jack crouched, with closed eyes grabbed it, and tried shaking the blood away.

A few drops ran off though the compass' steel remained red.

It'll do -- I can't waste any more time.

Jack pushed the button on the device's back and jerked the whole thing. The two arrows inside spun. They stopped, made a click, shrunk to the size of a fingernail and pointed to the right.

Jack turned and continued his destination.

Through the thick cover of leaves above, he saw the black sky and the glimmer of daysun rising in the horizon.

That makes it three days, he thought. Hopefully that blood didn't mess with the compass

***

Jack reached a clearing in whose middle stood a greying tree -- an ancient oak. It was crooked while its branches were thick and cast a dark shade under them.

He stepped into the opening, his curiosity rising. What was a tree like this doing in a forest of pines? How didn’t the winds tear it down?

Jack entered the oak's shade and slowed down, careful not to trip on a root. He trudged through the darkness for a moment before he bumped into the trunk. His bloody hand grabbed the ragged bark.

What secrets do you hold, old man? A smirk grew on his face and he thought for a minute. How are you still here while other trees your age have been swallowed by the ground?

And, most importantly, do you hide any water inside?

I should be hurrying, but two days without a drink is too long.

Jack put his ear against the wood and tapped. Indeed, you do have something...

Alright, I'll put a hole right, he moved his hand around and judged the sound, here!

Can't become free if I die of thirst--

A beast growled behind him.

He jumped, letting out a scream and fumbled for his dagger. The hair on his skin rose.

I should’ve washed that bloody hand!

The fearful scream stopped the animal's attack. Instead, it stalked in the darkness.

Jack gripped his dagger harder and his muscles tightened as the stillness continued.

Where are you?!

The growls returned, coming from behind him, then from his left and then from his right. A pair of orange eyes started to glow.

Jack’s body throbbed as he jumped towards the creature.

Everything happened in a flash.

The animal howled. Jack roared back. It attacked his right leg, tearing into his pants. He kicked the creature with his other leg. The animal flew back and thumped on the ground. Jack blindly swiped his dagger and hit. The animal whimpered and backed off.

Jack dashed out of the oak’s shade and jumped atop a large rock.

Where did you go, buddy?

A loud crash sounded behind him. Barks and howls came after. Jack ran towards the ruckus, almost slipping on the rock.

A young pine had fallen on a large wolf with orange eyes and a few fresh scars. A band of wild hounds surrounded the wolf.

Jack’s hands trembled at the sight. Then the fear disappeared as he instinctively waved his dagger into the air, bellowing.

“Get out of here!”

The hounds flinched, but didn’t run. They turned their attention away from the helpless wolf and towards Jack. They barked and spit ran down their teeth.

You don’t get scared easily, do you? Jack thought. He hadn’t expected such a wild pack. He either had to scare these creatures or escape.

He wouldn’t run.

Jack searched for ideas, shouting and waving his dagger to keep the creatures at bay. Indeed, he was wasting time, but he couldn't let the wolf die such a death.

The hounds stayed unfazed and kept moving closer. One of them jumped. Jack’s leg sprung up on its own and kicked the animal. It hit the black rock, whimpered and rejoined its pack.

Black rocks, he realized. Fernoritium. It’s everywhere in this forest.

I'm no sorcerer, but you don't need to be one to know how it works, keeping the dagger pointed at the animals, Jack crouched and reached for one of the rocks.

Ah, that tobacco-like smell, he caught a whiff and stood up.

“I said get the hell out, but you didn’t listen!” He raised a grin. “Now, you will face the wrath of the demon god!”

Jack swiped the dagger in his right with the Fernoritium in his left. The blade turned red, sparks appeared and a large fire engulfed the steel.

He slashed the air, laughing like a madman.

The wild dogs squealed and ran in confused terror.

Didn’t think it would work this great! Jack thought and turned towards the wolf.

“You’re the beast that attacked me?”

The wolf stared at Jack and breathed heavily as its life waned.

“Alright, we have a deal.” Jack nodded. “I let you out you and you don’t ever mess with me.”

The tree was short and narrow, yet heavy. Jack lifted with all his force, gasping. The tree rose a bit, but the animal didn’t jump or try to wiggle itself out -- it waited. Jack pulled the trunk all the way up. The wolf huddled out. Finally, Jack dropped the tree, feeling a bit of fear, which vanished a second later.

The wolf stood on the other side of the trunk. Seemingly, it nodded, turned around and ran away.

You didn't attack me, Jack thought as he gasped for air. Thank the powers that be -- at least a damn wolf has more decency than Guardian.

Guardian. Crap. Jack looked back at the oak then started running in the opposite direction. There's no time for water anymore.

***

Where a grassy valley full of colors was supposed to be, tall bars pierced black dirt while a layer of fog hovered over everything.

Jack looked right and left. Indeed, the wrought iron fence stretched on in every direction farther than the eye could see. He slapped his forehead then shook his compass. The device made its click, but its arrows remained invisible.

This can't be the destination!

How did you even lead me to this place?

Jack put his compass away and tried to make sense of the situation.

Guardian was old and hopefully close to death. His chest was at least as old as him and the painting of Jack's destination came from that chest. So, the place could’ve changed in the countless years since Guardian was last there. But reasonably thinking, there was no way a decade could flatten a valley and fully ravage the land. Only people did that. And this place was far from people.

Jack could think of a single reasonable possibility and growled at the thought.

I wasted three days and Nite’s life just for this stupid compass to break and lead me to the wrong place?!

Bullshit! He clenched his fists. Humanshit! Aronshit!

Why does everything go wrong when I have a perfect plan?!

If I don't get it, Guardian will punish me -- no more freedom or nice islands!

Damn that compass like a bascalle!

Jack kicked the dirt and punched the fence as his blood boiled. The metal bars rung and their sound echoed through the forest. A moment later, he realized he had to get himself together and, with effort, calmed, taking deep breaths.

In… out… in… out...

I can't let that keep happening. I can’t turn into him...

Jack closed his eyes and took one last breath. He was back to normal.

This compass is wrong, but by how much? he thought. It probably broke in the blood. That's not too far. The valley's hard to miss and most likely not too far from here -- I could find it.

The fog behind the fence shifted and a dark silhouette revealed itself.

Jack froze and his brow rose.

A few moments passed, but the silhouette didn’t move. It wasn’t an animal or a person for its shape was weird and uneven.

Jack grabbed on to the cold fence and started climbing. Time was tight, but he had to find out out what that figure was, what this whole place was and what it kept locked inside. Then, he could find the place he was really looking for.

I can't fight my curiosity.

Halfway up, his hands started throbbing from the coldness of the iron and his legs started trembling from the distance to the ground. He couldn’t keep going and stopped.

He held on with one hand while with the other he reached for his satchel. He went through all his things and searched for anything that’d help. Something stung his finger. Jack cursed and took out Nite’s medallion. It was sharp, uneven and engraved with decorations: perfect for extra grip.

He got to the top and looked down. Goosebumps covered his skin.

I loved you, Jack thought and hugged the medallion. But what’s done is done. I can’t cling to the past.

He threw the thing towards the forest. As the leaves rustled, he turned back to the misty otherside of the fence.

Jack fought his fear and carefully climbed down. He hopped off and nodded to himself. There’s not a beast in this world that this fence couldn’t stop..

He approached the weird figure in the fog...

...It was a tomb and he’d arrived at a cemetery.

***

Why is this place here?

Jack crouched beside the tomb. Spikes and swords stuck out of the monument. A text was inscribed in it, but the words had been faded. Still, he could make out a name--Felio “Serious” Coppero--and a date -- forty seven years ago... today.

Around, more headstones came into view, all covered in vines and cracks.

His curiosity didn’t disappear. It sensed something and drove him deeper into the cemetery. Jack went by the tombs, skimming over their inscriptions.

August Skeletal -- thirty five years ago.

Everia -- fifty.

Maxim -- thirty nine.

All of these dates are so close to one another, he thought. Cemeteries in Company’s Heart had two year old graves beside two hundred year old ones.

Here, nobody’s buried less than thirty years ago.

This place must be abandoned, right?

As Jack passed the cluster of tombstones, another shady figure appeared in the fog.

The figure moved closer.

Now, Jack unsheathed his dagger. This place… not so abandoned after all.

“Who are you?!”

The person walked until Jack could fully make them out.. It was a man in a suit, a cloth around his head and a cane in his hands.

The man flashed a crooked smile and started moving his lips. Disjointed vowels and growls left his mouth. Jack grew even more worried.

“Hello,” the man finally said.

“Good morning.” Jack tilted his head.

“I would…cora--love to… make a… cora--deal with… you.”

...What? This might be the worst place to do business in the entire world. I’m having none of your lies!

That accent… It’s not from this land. It’s from the south.

You could be a bandit.

Yeah, you’re definitely a bandit.

“I’d like to hear your name first.” Jack clenched his fist. “And why you’re in this powers’ forsaken land!”

“Ah…”

A gunshot thundered, followed by two more. The man fell limp and turned to crimson dust.

W-what?!

Jack’s fight or flight instinct kicked in. He jumped, dashed and hid behind a headstone.

The bastard didn’t even introduce himself!

The tombstone shattered and rubble flew over Jack.

He shut his eyes, shook the sharp rocks off and bolted towards another headstone. It got blasted to shreds in front of his eyes.

Jack froze, his feet sliding in the dirt. A bullet hit the ground in front of him and dirt splattered on to his chest.

Jack got out of his confusion and moved. He had to hide. Every direction he turned to offered him gunshots and crashes. He was like the wolf trapped under the tree while a wild pack of hounds surrounded him.

The heavy mist moved and a dark figure neared. Bullets whooshed by.

Jack screamed at the top of his lungs and threw a rock. He turned to the opposite direction of the decoy and ran as fast he could. In a moment, he found a large headstone, jumped and hid behind it.

An old man’s rough voice sounded in the fog.

“Stand up, raise your hands and walk towards me slow as a snail, alright?”

Jack put his dagger to his chest and shook his head. He couldn’t see the old man while the old man could probably see him. That made the odds uneven. But Jack had a strength -- he was fast.

You wanna kill me? Well, I can kill you.

I won’t go down like that man.

Though this shouldn’t be a fight. I can stay quiet if need be. This never happened if need be.

“Sure, sure… You heard me, kid. I know you did. Now do as I say!”

Don’t call me kid, murderer. Jack growled.

“Three… two… one…”

A gunshot rung. The bullet whooshed by, but didn’t hit.

“That’s a warning you fool--”

Jack darted towards the voice and sliced with his dagger.

The old man growled and grabbed his wound. He kicked Jack and fired his shotgun. The slugs hit the ground and splattered dirt everywhere.

Jack spat out the mud that reached his mouth and lunged with his dagger. The old man dodged and grabbed Jack, but Jack squirmed out and threw his weapon. The blade hit and lodged itself into the old man’s shoulder.

The man yelled, but the pain only made him faster. He hit Jack in the stomach with the stock of his gun. Jack bent sideways and clenched his jaw. The man hit the top of Jack’s head, beat his sides then landed a dry slap to his face.

Pain rushed through Jack and he fell to the ground.

He had a moment and got one good look at the old man’s face. His skin was black and a beard, which hung off his chin, was white. An indigo hat lied atop his head and a red scarf was wrapped around his neck.

The old man shoved a potion of blue drink in between Jack’s lips. As the bitter liquid burned his tongue, the world faded to black