"Do not follow me!" - Aileen yelled out in anger.

The sage just calmly unpacked his pipe, stuffed it with tobacco, sat on the ground next to the girl, and started smoking.

"Don't get any closer to me, it smells disgusting, you smell disgusting." - Aileen hissed as she got up and walked a few meters away, to rest elsewhere.

"...but it scares the yetis. You wouldn't want to encounter any of them, they would tear you apart in a blink of an eye." - The sage said as he offered the pipe to a girl.

She just crossed her arms and averted her head, so he calmly took another puff.

"Why won't you go your own way?" - The girl asked, albeit reluctantly and with resentment.

"It's the sense of responsibility."

"It's an obsession."

"Do you truly believe, that you would be safe here out in the wild, on your own?"

"Does it matter? I don't want anything to do with you."

"Once we reach a village or town, I promise to not bother you again."

"Hmpf."

Hearing no protests, the sage got up and stretched his bones. - "I'll find us some food."

[ . . . ]

As the sage stopped at a glade between pine trees, he started chanting. - "Speak to me, spirits of the wind, for I seek what is hidden." - The man felt a chill breeze and sensed a faint smell. He walked the invisible path revealed by his spell, until he reached a den where he placed a pair of traps.

All there was to do, was to wait, so the man strolled in the crunchy snow, observing the birds. He sequentially untied a long bundle of cloth on his back, revealing two white, steel barrels, a chamber, and an ivory stock. The sage loaded the rifle with two shells full of pellets, steadied his aim, and fired once, then again after the birds scattered.

He picked up his prize and tied it to a belt, then continued moving deeper into the forest, while collecting nuts, berries, and herbs, until he arrived at a circle of stone obelisks. He knelt in the middle and prayed. Minutes passed and black owls started gathering around the man, on the branches of nearby trees, on the stones, on the ground, and even on his shoulders and hood.

At last, a large boar walked into the circle, covered in glowing runes and with tips of tusks overgrown by moss. It stood before the man, awaiting an answer.

"Greetings, the mightly and wise king of the southern wastelands." - The sage said with bowed head.

The animal grunted. - "You're not welcome here, yet you dared to request an audience."

"We're in times of great peril. The witch's spell grew stronger over the years. I came here not to disturb the natural order of your realm, but to warn you."

"Speak."

"The steel goliaths are traversing the many paths in the skies, stealthily planting their seeds at the bridge points between worlds. Your home was chosen, it's time to depart."

"...and what would be our destination? To the north, the giants live. To the south, it's the land of the men. To the east, the dragon of petals slumbers. To the west, nightmare's cadaver corrupts the ground."

Sage kept kneeling, calm, but not responding.

"Do you expect us to figure it out on our own?" - The boar roared.

"I'm just a messenger..." - The sage spoke. - "...but If you deem me worthy of proposing a solution, I would suggest preparing for a long journey."

"How long, exactly?"

"Once the children of progress establish their outpost, they won't stop just here. The giants will be subdued, the men will be employed under their laws, the dragon will fall. The nightmare, will be forgotten."

"That does not answer the question."

"I suggest the tall meadows, where snakes reign, but it's only temporary."

"You want us to mingle with our enemies?"

"By the time you are there, they will understand the pain of war."

The boar shook his head. - "I wouldn't ever believe it, but If it's coming from you, sage. I shall listen." - The animal started digging with its tusks, until it unearthed a white polearm with an obsidian blade, several silver rings were hanging above its grip. - "This, is the parting gift, but pray you would never have to use it."

The sage raised and reached for the weapon, leaving his staff on the ground.

"When the nightmares arrive, find their nest and cut down the roots. When they struggle, strike their hearts. When they fall, ring twice and they shall never awaken." - The boar instructed.

"You misunderstood. I did not come here with the mission." - The sage replied with a concerned look.

"You did, or did not. On the other side, it will stop to matter."

"I'm not coming to the other side."

"Are you not aware? You already did."

The sage closed his eyes, then clutched the halberd. He was deep in thoughts. - "When?"

"Perhaps about a month ago. Its stench is all over you."

"'The Fall of the Innocents' was supposed not to be under the witch's influence."

"It was not, but you stepped outside, carrying the key. Tell me, the sage, what were you so afraid of, to risk the wrath of the heavens?"

"A world so dark, that the time is just standing still. Swimming in a nightmare, with no light shining behind your eyelids. With no voice to call you. Of awaiting a tomorrow, that would never come."

"That fate was never reserved for you."

"I'm not speaking of myself."

"What... no..." - The beast realized the grim truth. - "You FOOL... 'who' exactly did you bring back from there?" - The boar aggressively lifted its front hooves, its shadow towered over the man, who just grabbed his halberd and pointed at the animal's chest.

"It's none of your concern."

"Curse you and your ancestors, you puppet of evil!" - The boar charged and all the owls scattered in fear of what was to come. Two hooves collided with the ground and a tremendous tremor knocked all the nearby trees down.

Blood spilled on the ground, the black tip of sage's weapon punctured the massive body that was about to crush the man. It slid to the ground with a loud thud and the king was no more. The sage stood still, painted in warm red. He panted, still traumatized by the near-death encounter. The remaining owls turned their large heads, just staring.

"Run. There is nothing holding you there." - The sage screamed in fury and swung his right arm.

Once after other, the birds landed next to the boar's corpse, as If to confirm the king was really dead, then flew away, until the forest was empty and the sage remained alone, with his feelings of angst and grief.

[ . . . ]

The sage returned to the camp in a foul mood, finding the girl asleep. He changed his clothes, then simply placed a pot over the fire and cooked the birds with nuts and herbs, then waited.

Aileen's eyes slowly opened as the gentle aroma of the meal enhanced the crisp air around them. She moved to a pot without saying a word and served herself a portion of food.

The sage followed the suit, without uttering a single word.

[ . . . ]

They walked the path down the mountains, together, yet alone, for over a dozen days. Without a word uttered to each other, without a gesture of friendliness. Each holding their own grudges in their hearts.

They passed a lake of salt, with the statues of frozen victims of a long-forgotten curse.

They passed the unknown roads, where above the unusual black snow, towered bone structures and arches.

They traveled across the caverns full of hot sulfur pools, inhabited by hundreds of blue lizards

They passed the misty valley, where ghosts of the lost sung tales, from before the witch was born.

They climbed through a complex of vast caves, where barbed, frozen roots were building the many pathways and bridges.

At last, they arrived at the far-reaching planes of white. It was their last step towards civilization. The sage led the way, they walked for days, until the mountains disappeared behind the horizon, until they reached a lone lighthouse in the middle of this barren land.

The sage spoke, for the first time in many days. - "There used to be a sea. No, there still is, right beneath us. It's one of the three great frozen plates encompassing this continent."

Aileen showed no hint of interest, yet the sage continued.

"This construction, it was probably abandoned a long time ago, but there used to be missionaries who sacrificed their whole lives to dwell in those desolate places and light the waters. Their burden, was far too great. We should pay them respect."

"Twelve candles, twelve ships." - Aileen responded. - "I know the story."

"Do you know, what the twelfth candle was for?"

"No... I only know of the Amnesty, Horegon's scarecrow, the sunken plane, and the porcelain submarine."

"The twelfth light was for Anaari, who broke their promise. They never came to aid, and instead locked themselves in a prison built by their own hands, The twelfth light remains unlit, as a reminder to not trust those who broke the new pacts separating the skies."

"Pacts?"

The sage looked at the girl and trembled, she really did not know. How old had she to be? How long had she endured her fate? - "Yes, the stars shall remain isolated, to prevent the disease from spreading."

"What disease? The nightmares?"

With this question, the sage knew that the girl really was unaware. - "No, we don't know by who, but to counteract the nightmares, a new weapon was developed. One that leads to fracture of the very essence of the soul."

A tear trickled down Aileen's cheek. - "With each dream of freedom, we ruin this precious garden gifted to us." - She approached the door to the lighthouse and entered inside, climbed the stairs, and started lighting the candles.

The sage followed, but he didn't understand her intentions and was too late. - "What!? What are you doing?"

"In times like this, one's dreams shouldn't die alone."

Sage hastily put out the candles and slapped the girl. - "Damnation! Don't call the amnesty, unless you are ready to forsake your life!"

The girl sat on the cold wooden boards, holding a hand next to her aching cheek.

"Why would you do that!?" - Sage shouted, pointing at the candles.

"We can't let these souls be shattered for eternity. We need each of them to collect the pieces, even... even If... it could be our demise."

"Even the Horegon!? Are you crazy?"

"THEY WERE ONCE HUMAN!" - The girl shouted with tears in her eyes.

"What once was..." - The sage exhaled.

Aileen's mouth opened, as in a sad realization. - "Don't say that."

"I won't, but you must understand. There is no solution for all of the world's problems, especially the nightmares and the plague. Despite how much you desire it, all it is left is to live our lives while we still can."

"You... you gave up."

"Everybody gave up!"

"I did not."

"Then, what are you doing to change the status quo?"

"I... I... don't know what to do, but I would do anything!"

"Nothing can be done. We tried. Over and over again. It only advanced our fall. Every time we strike, she strikes thrice as hard."

"...so you became compliant? What has changed? Why not fight?"

"...and decide the fate of countless unaware lives, forcing them to draw their last breath prematurely, in an unwinnable fight? You can't sacrifice three to save more than twenty, yet you would throw away numbers beyond anyone's imagination, just to prove a point, that we did not give up?"

"It's... it's different. You see everything in numbers, but it's about our choices! It's about doing what is righteous!"

"You speak of ideology, but how is it reflected in reality? Did you even think about it? What do your ideals give, that otherwise would be lost? It's nothing, but empty aspirations."

Aileen clenched her fists and bit her lip. She did not want to argue with the sage. - "You... you're wrong. I... I still believe in us, we can win. We can have the future."

"There is no arcane power that synchronizes with your wishes. All the invokable spells had lost. There is no science that proves your point, all the highest-end tech was disarmed and shattered. All the nations who reached that point faded into oblivion. We're ages behind even a spark of their genius and even If we grasped that bleak spark, we would be the next victim. We are being trapped in smaller and smaller loops, with no exit."

The fallen one closed her ears, she did not want to listen to that. - "LIAR!"

The sage just grabbed the bridge of his nose and shook his head, then rested on a nearby chair. One day, he believed, perhaps she would walk his path, and understand.