The sun shone clear above the woodland road lined with naked trees. The floor was as dry as it could be. It’d seem the lands were not soaked with rain the night before, a strange phenomenon since Leor has only ever seen the wet ground when he awoke. A good omen, he thought, casting a shadow over his eyes with his hand.

Reaching Lightendale was his priority. If they avoided further altercations, they’d be able to reach the capital in about two or three more days. He could already picture Gerald’s astonished face when he hands him the overdue rent and then some. He already started thinking of witty remarks to rub in his face and laughed to himself as he thought about it. Maybe he should tease with a nice bottle of lightberry wine or an exquisite slab of fresh, fatty, cow. Surprised, Leor came to halt. For the first time, his stomach was not growling at the break of dawn despite not eating the night before.

It was then, a black shadow flew by him, catching his attention. Leor fixed his eyes on the flying thing and found a lone hawk perched on an outreached branch that looked like a deformed hand clawing at the dirt. Now that he was looking at them, the trees were black as charcoal and their forms were outlined with blade-like thorns. The hawk’s eyes followed Leor as he approached. Its red eyes were piercing and sent a cold tingle all over his skin. Once he was close enough, the hawk screeched. It sounded of metal scraping against porcelain, forcing Leor to cover his ears and turn away. He pressed his hands hard into his skull, but the deafening sound bled through his hands.

Then, the shrieking stopped and the bird was gone. Leor scrunched his face, cursing the fowl for ruining a wondrous morning; the ringing did not leave his ear for a while. He sighed and continued onward. Once the woods were silent again, Leor reflected on yesterday’s mishaps and thought about how to avoid further complications. He placed his hand on his chin and looked at the ground as he always did when he loses himself in his thoughts. They were extremely fortunate to have snuck away into the Edgewoods without being seen. If he were to guess, the Stallions would be searching for them in Logtown with Guards checking every person entering and exiting the city. How could they enter undetected? His party needed supplies and they’d be pushing their luck trying to reach the next town over.

His shoulder burned at the thought, reminding him to treat his wounds. Dried blood turned his cloak rigid, though the stain was barely noticeable through the black fabric. He remembered Yoru had smeared Ceri’s pure white robes with wolf blood. He turned to check if the stain needed to be concealed. His heart stopped when he saw no one was behind him. Nothing was behind him, only darkness. Panicked, he turned back around. The trees contorted and expanded, then burst into countless hawks merging with the swallowing black. He reached for Inazuma and Ikazuchi, but his hands grasped the air.

“Ceri!”, Leor shouted as loud as he could. His throat pinched from the sudden lack of air. “Alden, Yoru!”

It was quiet. The silence rang in his ear more fiercely than the screeching hawk. He was alone. Cold air filled the empty space, stinging his nose and freezing his lungs with each breath. A small, wet droplet touched the space between his brow. Rain? He reached to wipe it, but there was no residue, no wetness. Then, another droplet fell onto his face, then another until showering him. Confused, Leor sprinted in blindly, shielding himself with his arms from the unseeable rain. The cold, wetness crept into his bones and stiffened his joints, slowing him as if he ran through knee-high snow until he was out of breath. Having made no progress in figuring out where he was or what to do. He dropped to his knees and felt like weeping. His hands felt too small for his face.

A familiar voice called his name, a voice he felt he heard all his life. It was a woman’s voice, warm and welcoming; she beckoned him forth. When he looked up, a light bloomed from the darkness. The voice called him again. Leor was drawn in by the brilliance, but still, he was hesitant, dragging his feet forward. As soon as he entered the basking light, he regained his will. Strength like nothing he felt before coursed through his veins like fire, a deathly intoxicating feeling. When he calmed, he realized he stood underneath a tree that radiated the same liberating light. The tree was larger than any he’s seen before and its body was crystallized like it was made of golden ice. His face multiplied and twisted against its glass surface. Gleaming particles the size of his palms gently fell from the tree’s branches like snow; two danced around him before fluttering off.

“Who are you?” Leor asked with confidence. “Where am I?”. He searched the void and around the shining timber for the woman, but no one was found

“Leor . . .” the woman repeated, not acknowledging his question. A sudden touch caressed his cheek. It was soft and warm like a woman’s hand. The woman spoke in broken tongue, too hard to understand, but one word stood out from the rest. Trials, he whispered. As if in response to the word, a blue light blossomed in front of him. A crystal formed before him out of thin air, calling to him without a voice. Something overcame him. He reached for it. He had to touch it. A sudden heat erupted from his chest and a hand covered in blood clutched the crystal, squeezing it harder in increments until shattering it into countless shards, sending a shockwave of pain through his body. He caught a glint of green before passing out.

Leor’s eyes shot open. His clothes stuck to his moist skin and his breath struggled to return to normal. He patted his chest in a panic, letting out a sigh of relief once realizing the absence of the hole in his torso. What the hell was that? Leor closed his eyes and took deep, slow breaths to calm himself. Up to this point, death always lingered in his dreams, but this was the first time he was on the receiving end.

“Sir Leor?”

The womanly voice halted his breathing. When he turned to the voice on his shoulder, the color in his face returned to a fleshy peach. It was Ceri. She gazed up at him, clinging close to his robes.

“Sir Leor, are you alright?” she repeated, shaking him gently when he had not responded.

Leor rubbed his eyes and nodded. Restless nights were nothing new to him, but something about the dream had struck him deep. His mind still raced with the pain in his chest.

A gentle touch to his cheek startled him. Ceri angled his face to hers. She stared into his eyes, not giving them time to blink. “No need to lie, Sir Leor,” Ceri said. “I can see it in your eyes. They look worn.”

For a moment, he felt compelled to tell her of his dream, but he held his tongue for there was no reason to tell her; it would do no good. He looked towards Alden resting on his old bed made of a bundle of leaves and feathers, which he had cleaned off the cobwebs and replaced the sheets prior to sleep. Alden looked like a giant in the child-sized bedding. His eyes drifted back to the woman tugging on his garments. He felt soreness on his right shoulder from Ceri’s head weighing on him as they slept.

“I’m fine,” Leor whispered, trying not to wake the others. “I need some air”. He stood on his feet. Before he turned to walk away, Ceri pulled on his clothes.

“May I join you, Sir Leor?”. Her voice still made him shudder. He remembered her telling him she feared being alone in the dark. He looked at her, then to Alden, then to Yoru who perked his head up at their footsteps.

“Very well,” Leor responded. He bent over to Yoru. “Watch Alden. Howl if you need me.” Yoru nodded and seated himself on Alden’s belly.

The cold bit their cheeks as the howling wind blew at them and a tinkling creek filled the silence of the night. Leor rustled through the bushes, wet from the ceasing rain, in search of wood suitable for fire. He had forgotten how cold it got in the Edgewoods during nightfall. If he did not start a blaze soon, he feared he’d lose the feeling in his hands permanently. Ceri watched him closely, then began picking up similar-looking timber.

“If I may, Sir Leor, what were you dreaming of?” Ceri asked, inspecting a wet log. Leor remained quiet, pretending not to hear her. “You mumbled quite a bit,” she giggled. “I started to think you were awake the entire time”.

His hand stopped moving. “What did I say?” Leor asked, trying his best not to sound nervous.

She looked up at the glimmering stars reflecting off her eyes. “Hm. Most of it was hard to understand, but it sounded like you were having a nightmare.”

“You could say that,” he sighed, continuing his search for firewood. “Sorry, I must have awoken you.”

Ceri shook her head. “It’s fine. It’s hard to sleep sitting up. I’m impressed you were able to sleep so soundly.” She brought her handful of logs to Leor for inspection. He gave her a nod of approval and she set them down with the other firewood. “You mentioned you sought refuge in these Edgewoods and the home inside the cave — is it where you stayed?”

Why was she asking so many questions? Leor chose his answer carefully. He knew better than to respond recklessly. Failing the commission over something so trivial as a slip of the tongue would be devastating, especially after all he’s been through yesterday. “Yes, I suppose you could say that.”

“I see,” she said while searching the brushes. “It looks like it hasn’t been your home for a while. When did you leave for Thalesia?”

“Many, many years ago,” Leor responded absent-mindedly. He searched the creek bed for an edged shard of flint.

Ceri noted his actions and handed him rocks indiscriminately, then tossed them when he shook his head. “Then, you grew up in these woods?”. She paused, then snapped back at him with wide eyes. “Alone?” Her voice finally sounded less formal and curious like the young woman who fought to keep Yoru and not like an old priestess. She seemed to have caught it as well for she bowed her head when she realized. “Apologizes, Sir Leor. I do not mean to impose”.

“No need to apologize.” He scratched the back of his head and lowered his eyes. The air felt heavier than it needed to be. “I wasn’t alone. My mentor trained me in these woods when I was a boy”.

“Mentor?” Ceri echoed. “In what? The teachings of the Gods like Lord Alden?”

Leor clenched his jaw before his reflex to frown in resentment took over. “No, not quite,” he said in an uncontrollable coldness. He cleared his throat to rid the lingering disdain in his voice. “He taught me the ways of the old —”. He stopped himself, realizing he spoke too much. Somehow talking with Ceri brought more words out of him than he planned.

“Old ways?” Ceri repeated, cocking her head to the side at him. She eyed him like a child questioning her mother about some obscure knowledge she was too young to understand. “Like the way of living before The Great Expansion?”

Does she know? A thousand thoughts plagued his mind, trying to conjure a worthy excuse. Nothing but ill-mannered slander came to mind since he never needed to come up with excuses.

A smile pursed across Ceri’s lips and her face lit up with wonder. “That’s interesting”, she exclaimed with vigor. “Would you mind teaching me? The priests at Lightendale only educate me in the ways of serving the High Lords. Don’t misunderstand me. I am truly grateful to the Lords, but I have always wondered what life was like before The Great Expansion.”

The drum in Leor’s chest steadied. Before he could respond, she began rambling about the lessons she was taught in Lightendale. She spoke too fast for him to understand her, taking sharp breaths between every other sentence. Leor wondered if her face would turn purple, but it never did. As he watched her talk herself to death, Leor couldn’t help but laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Ceri said, puffing her red cheeks.

Still chuckling, Leor wiped the tears from his eyes. “You’re talkative just like Alden. No doubt you are his student.”

She glared at him, flushed, then she joined him in hearty laughter. “You finally showed something besides that scowl of yours. A smile suits you, Sir Leor.”

Carrying the firewood underneath his pit and the flintstone in his pocket, Leor reached his hand down to her with a beaming smile. “Just Leor is fine. I am no sir”.