By The Sword - Homepage

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The sun was getting low on the horizon.

Soft orange light bathed the trees around me in warmth, seeming to contradict the wind slapping me in the face. The trees swayed in the breeze, wavering slightly as if rocking back and forth in a chair while watching the night come.

I continued to walk on, beating my feet against the dirt path that we’d eventually walked onto. The forest around me was unfamiliar now, greener and livelier than the one I’d gotten used to over the past few months. The trees I was used to were packed together, gnarled and twisted as if all part of a singular connected root. But the trees around me now… they weren’t. They were more peaceful, shining out in brilliant green as the sun’s fading light kissed their leaves.

Up ahead, I still heard the muffled and unimportant sounds of Jason joking—or arguing, I didn’t know or care. Myris had his shoulders tensed, as if trying to make his back a wall that the swordsman’s arrogance couldn’t pass through.

That effort had failed, obviously. But I was glad he was taking the brunt of it now. I was more than content just walking a few steps removed, letting nature swell around me as I listened to the beat of my heart.

Somewhere along the line, the unkempt forest floor we’d been traveling on had given way to a more distinguished dirt path, one that seemed to flow through the forest with ease. It was a wide path, at least in comparison to the narrow walkways that weaved between the trees before, but it was also still just dirt.

Certain parts of the path, parts that we’d long since passed by now, were lined with stones. For a while, it looked almost exactly like the paths that led in and out of Sarin—the paths that had directed Kye and I on our journey toward salvation.

A surprised smile grew across my lips, the mundane aching in my legs put on hold for a second by memories. That journey felt almost like it was just yesterday. It was hard to imagine that it was really months ago.

A sharp pain in my foot made me stumble in the dirt, wincing. I flicked my head up, making sure neither Jason or Myris had seen the act. They hadn’t even turned around. They were still preoccupied with whatever contest of the will Jason’s boasting had put them in.

I sighed, regaining my stride in an instant. I rolled my toes in my metal boot, thanking the world for the padding inside. I rolled my shoulders as well, feeling the wind brush over the small tear in my tunic that Jason’s blade had left back at the lodge. The feeling made me smile, in an odd way. I could barely even feel the pain anymore.

That, I told myself, was why my first journey into town was months ago. If my body had gotten cut all the way back then, I would’ve been in pain for days, squirming at the unfamiliar and uncomfortable feeling.

I flexed my muscles, keeping the memories sharp in my mind. I was definitely stronger now, and that certainly made me happy. So happy, in fact, that a laugh slipped from my lips as I remembered the first time I’d sparred with Jason. We’d used wooden practice blades, I remembered.

How times had changed.

Feeling my muscles once again and the way they now truly responded to my calls, I was also reminded of something else. I was tiring out. Back at the lodge, when we’d been waiting for Myris, Jason had told me not to tire myself out, but I hadn’t listened. I couldn’t have listened. The look of defeat on his face was far too sweet for me to ever have passed it up.

During our fight, I really had tired myself, even if I’d beaten him all the same. And we’d been walking for hours now, so I could already feel my legs starting to get angry. They wanted rest, and it wasn’t like I didn’t want to give it to them. The sun was setting and the wind around me was starting to sting just the tiniest bit more. We were going to have to make camp soon.

But Farhar still loomed days ahead, even farther still if we made camp so early.

I closed my eyes, ignoring the gradually increasing fatigue by picturing the town.

What I imagined was a small town like Sarin’s, but surrounded by forest on all sides. I imagined its old wooden buildings, the stone foundations just starting to crack. I imagined a bustling market, different from the one in Sarin, but lively all the same.

On our way through the woods, before we’d even gotten to the carved out dirt path, I’d tried to ask Myris about the town. As always, he hadn’t been in the mood to talk. And even if he had gained some respect for me after I’d dragged his body out of the forest, he still danced around my questions like they were poisonous to the touch.

When I’d asked about our destination, I’d only gotten half-truths—or half-lies, I couldn’t tell. He would say something that sounded reasonable and then follow it up with a resigned but snarky complaint about how it was irrelevant information or about how I should’ve known already.

“I don’t like making small talk while I travel,” he’d grumbled at me.

After each of my questions, the edge in his voice had only gotten sharper, and after a certain point, I’d just stopped altogether. If Myris liked silence while he walked, then I would respect it. I couldn’t, however, say the same about the other member of our party.

Jason’s voice picked up, drifting to my ears on the wind. I cracked a smile, still imagining the town at the edge of the forest. Even after everything, I still didn’t know much about it. The most I’d gotten out of Myris was when he’d slipped up.

“I don’t know much about the city of whispers,” he’d said, his annoyance spiking. He’d held his hand up, trying to force me to shut up by sheer power of will. But his eyes had widened when he’d realized his mistake.

“City of whispers?” I’d asked, trying to keep my voice level. “I thought Farhar was a town.”

I could still see the way he’d cringed at himself. “It is a town,” he’d said. “But it’s called the city of whispers.”

“This is the first I’m ever hearing about it,” I’d retorted in an effort to bait more information out of him.

“It is not the most common name for it anymore, okay?”

“Why is it called the city of whispers?” I’d been persistent.

“Because it is nearly as old as the forest itself and hears all of its secrets. I’d bet the oldest living person there wouldn’t even know all of the whispers floating around.”

Myris had smiled as he’d spoke, which had struck me as odd. He’d been guarded and blocked off since the moment I’d started, but as soon as I asked about the name he slipped up on, he’d been more helpful than he’d been in hours.

And then he’d made the statement that still nagged at my thoughts. “It’s no wonder the wisps hang around there so much.”

I’d been surprised at that, questioning him more and more. But as soon as he’d mentioned wisps—a name I’d only ever heard Kye say once before—he’d shut right up. After that, he hadn’t even given his standard excuse, he’d just shaken off my pestering and walked on, trying to see if the wind would blow my words away before they could even reach him.

I glared ahead, trying to set Myris on fire with my eyes. His posture was still stiff and guarded as he tried to ignore whatever Jason was saying to him, but his shoulders were more relaxed. And unlike when I’d asked him questions only hours before, he actually responded to whatever Jason said.

Whatever, I told myself, pushing down the irritability that I knew stemmed from my exhaustion. The breeze picked up for a moment, blowing strands of brown hair in front of my eyes. I gritted my teeth, trying to shake off the cold.

The orange light of the sunset on the horizon beyond was fading on the trees. And the light was fading from my vision, too. It was getting dark. And the chill now seeping through the cloth in my tunic told me something worse. It was getting cold as well.

I hunched my shoulders, trying to keep the cold at bay as I quickened my pace. My eyes flicked between the two sides of the forest on either edge of the path. They were more sparse, and much more serene than the woods directly near the lodge, but they were still woods. And with the darkness pressing in upon them, they didn’t particularly make me feel at home.

As my feet scraped against the dirt, I felt an all-too-familiar feeling. I felt my heart beat faster and my breath weigh down my lungs. I could feel the eyes from the forest.

Watching.

Waiting.

Ready to pounce.

“When should we think about setting camp?” I suddenly asked as I got close enough. Myris twisted, turning to look at me. The words that had been at Jason’s lips fell away.

Myris furrowed his brow as he saw me, and even more at my question. That didn’t make me gloss over the relief I saw come off his shoulders when Jason shut up, though.

“Not much longer,” he said. “We didn’t leave as early as we should’ve.”

“Who’s fault is that?” Jason said beside us. Myris didn’t even pay him any mind. Jason tried harder. “I’m sure I could keep walking through the night.”

My eye nearly twitched at his words, even the exhaustion in my legs stopping to be annoyed. Myris glanced to the swordsman, a focused—but not annoyed—glint in his eye.

“That is not the issue. We’re still in the middle of the forest. It is going to get cold, and we’re going to be sitting ducks just waiting for terrors to attack us from around. We can’t get caught out and tired like that. We will have to set up camp.”

Jason’s smirk wavered at that and he snapped his mouth shut quickly after.

I moved my eyes off the swordsman and further down the path. It seemed to continue on for hundreds, if not thousands of paces forward, only stopped by a curve in it that left the forest as a barrier. I didn’t know how far the path led, or even if it led all the way to Farhar, but either way, we had a long way to go.

“So how much longer do you think we should wait?” I asked. Myris squinted, letting the air around him lighten. I saw the subtle signs of strain on his face as his soul manipulated energy, and he came back with an answer rather quickly.

“I’m not exactly sure. It is hard to tell in these conditions.” That made me raise an eyebrow. “But… soon.”

Soon is what he’d said, and soon had come quicker than I’d expected. After letting the silence stew, something which was a real relief to the older ranger, we’d just walked on. We’d walked on for hours.

And before I knew it, I was finishing up my ration of food as Jason got the fire started.

The night pressed in around us and gripped the cold air like a vice. I tried to just stare at the emerging flame, the one only growing larger from the sparks coming off Jason’s knife as it caught more and more scraps of wood. I tried to lose myself in the heat it provided, to lose myself in the light.

But with the knowledge of what was lurking out in the night, I couldn’t. My eyes flicked around restlessly as I choked down the last of the dried meat in my hands.

The warmth was nice, especially with my cloak wrapped tightly around my shoulders, but the breeze still whipped at my head. The light was nice, especially with the soft crackling of the fire that accompanied it, but it only kept the night away so far. Beyond the reach of our little fire tucked away on the path and surrounded by stones, the darkness was still there, and anything was possible within it.

Jason sat back down, sheathing his knife on his belt with shaky hands as he let go of the smirk that was almost drawn on his face. A large breath slipped from his lips and I felt the weight of it. Even if he wouldn’t admit it, he was tired too. We all were. We’d been walking all day.

I tried to focus on the fire again, feeling the soft burning on my eyes as I stared just a little too hard. But I couldn’t focus—I couldn’t focus for my life. Every time I tried to block everything out, more doubt, more dread, more fearcame in to mess it all up.

I shook my head and took a breath curling myself further up on the bedroll I’d set on the dirt. My bag lay next to me, thrown down so that I could use it as my pillow. I debated lying down, closing my eyes for a bit to listen to the sounds of the night just a little more clearly, but I didn’t. I knew it wouldn’t have been a good idea.

So instead, I just sat up and kept trying to find something to do with my gaze. I stayed away from the forest, scanning over our little camp again. Jason was still decompressing to my side, balancing his sword in his hand as he glared at the fire he’d started. And just on the other side of the fire, directly opposite of me, Myris sat stiffly.

The older ranger’s eyes were sharp and vigilant, energy still stirring within. His gaze kept moving like mine, but it was more than a twitch. His movements weren’t erratic and fueled by uncertainty, they were solid and fueled by a calculated curiosity. I watched the man for a while, the way he breathed heavily, sniffing the woods around us and the way his ears perked up, listening for any scrap of sound. I had no doubt that if I were to go over to him, I would’ve found myself breathing air light enough to make me pass out.

I furrowed my brows, glaring harder at the ranger. Words suddenly rose to my lips, and I made no effort to stop them. “The fire’s started,” I said. “And our bedrolls are all made. How long are we going to sit here before one of us finally gets even a sliver of rest?”

Jason’s eyes snapped to me. Myris’ did too, the energy once easily visible in them now slowly tapering out. My eyebrows raised up. I knew there had been an edge in my voice. I was tired too. But I was nothing if not practical, and sitting around the whole night was not going to get us anywhere.

Jason’s lips parted, losing the smirk. “Sleep is dangerous, now. Our forest contains monstrosities far beyond what we normally deal with anyway. We could get attacked by terrors, or even a kanir.” The smirk rushed right back as he stared at me. “Not that that would be that big of an issue.”

I scowled, something inside me reviling his words. Muffled and distant disgust rose up, forcing a tinge of bitter taste on my tongue. I tried to reach out to the feeling, but all I got was a headache as my mind grasped uselessly at energy sheltered behind some wall.

“I suppose we should figure out shifts then,” Myris said suddenly, running his hand through his grey hair. I shook my head and squinted at him. I’d never seen him do that.

“What kind of watch should we set up?” I asked, memories of setting the same kind of process breaking through a murky sea and filling the empty space in my mind.

“The night is not all that young anymore,” he said. “We can switch off every three hours.”

I nodded, seeing nothing wrong with his statement. Silence took our little camp for a moment, an unspoken question hanging in the air. I opened my mouth to answer it, to offer myself for the job, but Myris spoke first.

“I can take first shift,” he said in a low, distant voice. I tilted my head, words dying at my lips. It was an obvious choice, but it didn’t… fit for me. Back as a knight, whenever I set up camp anywhere, I was always first on watch. I was always first on guard. But now, looking down at my blue cloak that definitely did not hide a knight’s armor, I didn’t even have an objection to make. Things were different now.

“No,” a voice blurted out. Logic told me exactly who it was, but the words that came out and the person they came out of didn’t quite seem to fit. “I’ll take first shift. You’re both tired. And I already said that I’m not. I’ve got it.”

Jason sat up a little straighter, gripping his sword tighter as he stared at us. His words simply hung in the air for a second before Myris’ reply.

“It’s fine,” Myris said, an edge at the corner of his voice. “You lit the fire. I’ll take—”

“You’ve been casting all day, Myris,” Jason said, using the ranger’s actual name for the first time in a while. The older ranger jerked his head back, his eyes widening. Jason leaned forward, putting more pressure onto his words.

Myris thought only for a second before he threw up his hands. “Fine. Wake me up when it’s my turn.”

Jason nodded at that. “Get some sleep. I’ve still got to defend you two.”

I wanted to hesitate for a moment, to argue back, but I didn’t. With the arrogant edge in his last few words, I had to almost stifle a groan. Then, nodding silently to the swordsman who was already standing up, I got comfortable on my bedroll and laid back.

My head hit my bag with the softest thud imaginable, and yet the sound still rang in my ears. My fingers flexed in place, and I kept shifting every few seconds into a slightly new position. Thoughts continued to race through my head, colliding and combining with each other to make my pursuit of the abyss as fruitless as possible.

I tried to slow my breathing, to let the brisk air of the night lead me on into relief, but it didn’t work. As I laid there on the scratchy bedroll, staring at the stars, I searched for sleep. But sleep seemed distant and elusive, like it was actively trying not to be found

After minutes—or hours, maybe, I couldn’t tell—my eyes started to droop. The thoughts still raced through my head but they weren’t as fast, and before I knew it, I’d found what I so very much desired. My body slowly went limp, and I faded away into sweet, sweet unconsciousness.

Blackness surrounded me on all sides.

Empty darkness pressed in on me, acting as a soft, cuddling feeling that contrasted nicely with the ice-cold grip of the night before. It felt familiar, warm, and homey, as if it was a place I’d lived for my entire life.

I tried to blink, but I couldn’t. I tried to smile, but I couldn’t. After a few moments of indiscriminate time, still nothing had happened, and the familiar feeling somehow registered in my mind.

It felt like I was floating, like my soul—and only my soul—was suspended in a perfect solution. As the sweet, intimate nothingness coddled my soul, memories raced through my head. I found myself looking more intently, staring into the darkness with a newfound purpose.

I expected a spark, some white flash of light, but no light ever came. Some feeling grew inside of me that I couldn’t quite define as I stared at the abyss, one that tugged terribly at the deepest parts of my mind.

I couldn’t even imagine the light—the beautiful white flame. Every time the image rose up in my mind, it was clouded, blocked off by a wall that was both too thick and too complex to get past.

After floating there for a time, my hearing rushed back to me at once. Somewhere at the edge of my ears, I could hear talking. The words and the voice struck a chord within me, reminding me of something I held close. But each time I tried to focus on them, they were too far away. They were just too distant, or just too soft, or just too muffled to carry any meaning.

There was no flame, it seemed. And there might not have even been any sound. I could’ve been imagining it all—it could’ve all been fake. But I didn’t know, and I didn’t seem to have much control. So I just did the only thing I could do to make myself feel better.

I closed my eyes, if I was even able to do that, and blocked out my vision. I looked inward into my mind, focusing on specific, hard-to-reach thoughts so I didn’t have to watch the void.

Faces appeared in my mind, each one of them rising up crystal clear. My mind nearly wept. First came my father, his hardened features staring back at me with pride. Second came my mother, her soft, warm smile and her beautiful blonde hair shining brilliantly in my eyes. Third came my wife, her slightly tilted smile and piercing, honest eyes sending shocks of longing remorse straight back to my core.

I sighed, if a bare soul could even do such a thing, latching onto the last image. I stared at my wife’s face, building it up with every detail I could remember. But… something was changing.

Slowly, my response to her image shifted away from longing. I no longer felt bittersweet, I just felt bitter as sharp hatred and brutal sadness cut their way through my mind. My wife’s smile dropped and her eyes widened before me, the soft, scraping worm of fear forcing itself into my mind.

In a sudden, wicked change, Lynn’s face warped entirely. Her lips parted crookedly, her eyes widened just a little too large, and her once soft and understanding features sharpened up as if she’d just been turned into a statue. Life drained from her eyes, and I heard the echo of her scream bouncing off the inside of my skull as she fell from my gaze and left only a horrible sight left.

I snapped my incorporeal eyes back open, ripping away the visage of the beast. Distress called in my mind, spinning in alarm as it tried to tell me something that I most definitely already knew.

My eyes stared back out at the swirling empty blackness. But… no. This time it was different. The blackness wasn’t empty, it was murky. The blackness that I looked out at held movement inside—movement that scraped fear on my skull. But… I still knew this void, and that was what scared me the most.

Light flashed in my vision. I snapped my attention to it in a second.

Sitting there off to the side, was a small white flame. For a moment, hope rose up within me, but it was squashed in a heartbeat. The longer I looked at the flame, the less inspiring it was. It wasn’t the same white flame I was used to. No, this one was different. This flame was hollow, artificial, vile to its core.

But that didn’t mean that it felt any better when the flame was snuffed out. Coming straight out of the murky dar, the gleaming metal of an all-too-familiar scythe cut right through the flame and killed it on contact.

My soul shivered intensely.

Thoughts raced in my head, and logic struggled to prevail. It kept yelling at me that whatever was happening wasn’t right—that none of it was real. It kept telling me I had to wake up, but I could barely hear it.

You too… touched by the scythe…

Horrible, hissing thoughts echoed in my head, registering somewhere deep in my mind. But my soul was too occupied to figure out what it was. I felt trapped, pushed into a coffin with the board nailed shut. Each passing second was dropping me further and further into the dirt below.

Just like her...

The mention of the last word shook the entire existence I was in. The murky black was stirred, shaking and cracking as sensation rushed back to return. In an instant, I felt pain, and I felt a brutal cold wind brushing up against my skin.

Frigid air stung at the insides of my lungs as I could hear my breathing again. I gasped and scraped the air, trying to get as much of it inside while my body spurred to life.

I snapped my eyes open, and the very first thing I saw was a shining silvery scar as a hand came down and grabbed me tight by the neck.