Prologue - Silhouette at Dusk

The pacifying sound of horse clops and wooden wheels rumbling through stone halted before the two castles. For the last eight hours, we’ve traversed nonstop through the nation of Restoura, looking for potential clues on the abnormal undead who had haunted nearby townlets.

Looking past the horizon of the twilight sky, I sighed with a sense of defeat. “Shouldn’t we call it a day? The sun is already setting.”

“Hurrah, finally, someone said it! I’ve barely been able to keep my eyes open,” yawned Alicia—my wife and fellow adventurer—with a note of relief. “But, hey, have you heard? Isn’t this the area where the half-human half-monster guy lives? Ermm, what was his name again?”

“Umm, The Riftwalker… Right?” I asked, looking at the others, who nodded in unison.

“I heard he once burnt down a village for fun,” daunted Alicia with a jokingly scary look. “He might be as dangerous as that undead we’ve failed to find.”

“Someone told me he cooked and ate the villagers as well,” I chimed in. “You guys think that’s true?”

“Can’t we just find a place to stay?” insisted Nikolas, who I consider my rival. “I don’t want to hear you babbling about odd rumors. Also, get the horses started again, won’t you?”

“Ah, sure, I guess. Any place works, right?”

“What about the horses?” Alicia asked. “We can’t just let them roam outside, can we?”

“We’ll tie them to something. The weather is pleasant anyway, so they won’t get sick.”

We spent until nightfall searching for an inn and settled with the closest adventurer’s guild. Sure, it was pricey, but none of us had the energy or familiarity to find a cheaper stay. The guild didn’t have a horse stall but had a few poles to keep them from leaving, which worked fine.

“Alicia, can you deal with the horses? I’ll deal with the wagon and order food then,” I asked with a gentle smile. “We could also do the opposite if you want.”

She quickly got to work, giving a short wave with the back of her hand. “Don’t worry; I’m on it.”

“You think she’ll okay out there?” Nikolas wondered, raising an eyebrow and scratching the back of his tilted head. “There are a bunch of creepy guys, completely wasted by alchohol here.”

“I probably should have told her to be more careful, but she should be alright,” I answered while glancing my eyes throughout the chamber. A group of drunken muscular men stood in the corner, surrounding a female guild worker. I could discern that she wanted nothing to do with them despite being hidden across the guild. It was just a thing I could feel, almost like a sixth sense. Turning my face back to Nikolas, I gave him an awkward shrug. “Actually, on second thought, maybe I’ll check up on her. Just in case.”

“Ooo, how romantic,” he chuckled. “Be quick about it, okay?”

I gave him a thumbs up before walking out of the guild. “I’ll be back.”

For some reason, my walking pace turned to light jogging, then running, and eventually, I sprinted with all my strength. My mind told me one thing: Alicia was in danger.

Turning around the corner, I expected Alicia, injured and ganged up by crooks. But, instead, she had fallen on her knees with her arms dangling, frozen in shock yet unhurt. On the pole where the horses were supposed to be tied was the undead we had spent hours tracking. It was pinned to the rod with webbed sludge and had a gap in its ribcage as if someone had ripped its heart out.

Atop the terrain that led to a castle stood the silhouette of a lone boy, no older than 13. His hands had long metal-like claws that, after retracting, revealed a radiating crystal. His sight wasn’t even directed at me, yet I felt his dominating pressure weighing down on every fiber of my soul and body. Then, in a blink of an eye, he had vanished, along with his aura, leaving just a brief afterimage.

That was him—the Riftwalker.