I dreamed of a colossal army, littered from horizon to horizon. I stood at the forefront, millions behind me. I wore black armor and an obsidian blade sheathed at my side.
I was darkness incarnate.
Then they came like a tsunami. Eldritch angels from beyond the veil. Behind them were the Behemoths, blotting out the very sun itself. They were a pretension of purity. A lie. The ground trembled and before I knew it, we were at each other's throats.
I was a storm of death. A master of both sword and sorcery. I hacked, slashed and stabbed as much as I burned and froze my enemies. But we were losing; and if we lost… I couldn't remember.
The killing went on for an eternity.
And then there was oblivion.
⋆✦⋆───────⋆✧⋆───────⋆✦⋆
I awoke to the cacophony of the morning's labor, of clanking pots and the gruff voices of men. My eyes flickered open to the canvas ceiling above, stained by time and weather. Sunlight streamed in through its mended rips.
A familiar baritone bellow cut through the thin walls of the car.
"Rise and shine, you sleepy louts! We've ground to cover before nightfall!" It was Harlan, the caravan master. A grizzled old veteran, he had a voice that could command a regiment and often did. Around me, life stirred. Sleepy-eyed travelers pushed back heavy woolen blankets and crawled out of their makeshift beds.
I could hear the thud of boots hitting dirt outside, the muffled curses of men wrestling with uncooperative gear. The horses snorted and stamped, their impatience mirroring that of their handlers.
"Left hoof up! Easy now!" A guard's strained instruction pierced through the bustle as he coaxed a mare to step into her harness.
It's probably Bessie. She always has an attitude in the morning.
I remained where I was, stretched out on a pile of hay in my wagon, staring up at the canvas overhead. I tried to shake off fragments of a nightmare that clung to me like cobwebs. I couldn't recall specifics - just a maelstrom of fear and anxiety that left me cold despite the thick blanket wrapped around me.
My fingers found their way to my chest, brushing against the hourglass-shaped locket that hung around my neck. It was cold to the touch yet comforting in its familiarity – a tangible reminder of my parents. My hand still resting on the locket, I closed my eyes and paid a silent homage to their memory.
The moment was abruptly ended by a rumble from my belly. My cheeks warmed with an embarrassed flush even though no one could have heard over the caravan's commotion.
I unfurled from my bed, rolling my shoulders to shake off the stiffness of sleep. The hay crunched beneath me as I stood, brushing strands from my clothes with swift pats.
I reached for the shawl draped over a nearby crate. It had been a bloody mess, reeking of decay after Hearthglen. I'd stumbled upon a stream not long after escaping the village and had washed it as best I could. The fabric was rough and worn now, but it was my mother's, and I couldn't bring myself to part with it.
Dragging the shawl around my shoulders, I pushed aside the heavy canvas flap of my car and paused to strap my hunting knife onto my waistband. It had been a constant companion during my time in the woods, and I loathed to leave it behind. With the knife secured, I stepped into the brisk morning air. The bustling campsite came alive before me, the clanking of pots and pans mingled with the staccato of hooves against the earth. Cooks shouted orders, their voices sharp and commanding as they prepared breakfast over open fires.
Nearby, carts were being sealed, and goods checked for the umpteenth time. Merchants bickered over placements within our snake-like procession, always a dance between safety in numbers and prime position at market.
"By Omni's beard, we pack these crates any tighter, and we'd need a paladin to open 'em!" a familiar voice quipped, followed by a round of hearty laughter.
Turning my head, I spotted Luca amidst a cluster of workers. Even from a distance, he stood out with his coarse blond hair catching the morning light. The kid was all arms and legs, awkwardly hauling a small crate towards a cart. He was an odd duck, too full of cheer for the rough and tumble world we lived in. At just 14, he was one of the youngest workers at the caravan. The boy had an uncanny ability to fit in into any group and make it seem like he belonged there.
He was mid-conversation with a group of older workers, when he spotted me, and instantly excused himself.
"Luca, don't you dilly dally! You come back soon now, you hear me!" An old teamster by the name of Dax, called out, his tone leaving no room for argument. Luca cast a quick glance over his shoulder, offering him a sheepish grin in response before dashing away.
"Oi, Noah!" he called out as he neared. "You're finally up! I thought you'd sleep through the whole day!"
It's what I'd done the first couple days after I'd joined the caravan. I wanted to wallow in my misery; he refused to let me.
"I couldn't have," I replied, rubbing at my eyes. "Your racket could wake the dead."
He laughed heartily at that, and with a playful swat to my shoulder, fell into stride beside me, accompanying me down the procession of carts towards breakfast.
When Luca had first heard my story, his eyes sparkled with a strange fascination that unnerved me. And his fascination had only grown when he saw the scars I carried. He'd stared at them as if they were medals of honor, while I wished they'd disappear. He was always too eager, too enthusiastic, and at times it grated on my nerves.
"Didn't you eat already?" I asked, giving him a sideways glance.
"Yep," he replied, popping the 'p' with exaggerated cheerfulness.
I rolled my eyes. "Shouldn't you be working then? Dax sounded serious there."
He waved off my concern. "I've got a few minutes. 'sides, the boys will cover for me."
Luca paused then. "I heard that we're half a day away from Thornwick."
I looked at him in surprise. "Really?"
He nodded vigorously. "Yep! Heard the guards talking about it while they were checking the wheels."
The news that we were so close to Thornwick caused a flutter of anxiety to dance in my stomach. Olvandir had said he'd meet me there.
It wasn't that I was ungrateful to the dwarken of course; he had saved my life after all. Yet, I had had a lot of time to think since my encounter with him and I knew it in my bones that he wasn't a priest or paladin.
That meant he was either a sorcerer, which seemed unlikely since he wasn't an Anaras, or a warlock, who were said to make human sacrifices and consort with demons.
I swallowed hard, finding myself torn between gratitude and uncertainty.
What did he want with me?
"Noah? You okay?" Luca's voice broke through my reverie, his blue eyes filled with concern.
I nodded, forcing a smile onto my face. "Yeah, just...just thinking."
Luca studied me for a moment before breaking into a grin. "Well stop it! You're starting to look like old man Dax when he's trying to remember where he left his teeth!"
Despite myself, I laughed at the image Luca painted - the old man, wandering around with a frustrated look on his face, searching for the set of teeth that Luca had most likely hidden.
⋆✦⋆───────⋆✧⋆───────⋆✦⋆
As we approached the line for breakfast, Luca wrinkled his nose at the gruel being served. I for one didn't mind it one bit. A couple days in the woods, with nothing but a few berries would do that you. You'll start to prefer gruel, stale bread and hard cheese over hunger any day.
I sat near a car with my breakfast in hand, when I heard hushed whispers around me. I didn't need to look around to know I was being watched. The noise and hubbub had died down a little.
When I'd first stumbled upon the caravan, they'd been on guard, their eyes darting between me and the tree line as if expecting a band of marauders to come charging out at any moment. It wasn't an unusual tactic used by bandits. A lone haggard boy appearing from nowhere could easily be a decoy for an impending attack. It was cause for suspicion.
It wasn't until I'd spoken of Hearthglen that their wariness had turned to disbelief. They had apparently been headed there, looking to trading with the quiet village nestled in the woods.
I had told them everything, save for Olvandir. Of course, the merchants weren't convinced of my story. Even Harlan was skeptical. Most wanted to believe it was an attempt at manipulation or the ramblings of a fool. So being the decisive man that he was, Harlan had sent out half a dozen scouts on horseback to see for themselves if my words were true.
When they got back, they had been quiet. Whatever they had seen had left them shaken.
Harlan had visited the car he'd assigned me that night, thanking me for sparing them from walking into whatever hell had befallen Hearthglen. He had offered me a ride to Thornwick with simple meals included. It wasn't much, but it was more than I had. He'd even given me a shirt and trousers that sort of fit, in light of my clothes that were just cloth strips by then.
That had been five days ago.
Just as I was about to scoop another spoonful of the gruel, someone cleared their throat behind me.
I turned to find one of the caravan guards standing there. His name escaped me, but his face - craggy and weather-beaten with a scar over his left brow, I could remember. He was one of the guards who had at first sneered at me for my story.
"Master Harlan wants to see you," he said, his voice as stiff as his posture.
My eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "Did he say why?"
He shrugged, curt. "Just said you should hurry."
With that, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving me bewildered.
"Luca?" I asked, turning towards my friend.
Luca merely shrugged in response, an equally puzzled expression on his face. "Don't look at me, I've no idea."
I shoveled the rest of my gruel into my mouth. It tasted like nothing, but I didn't care; the sooner I finished, the sooner I could find out what master Harlan wanted.
As I stood up to leave, Luca clapped me on the shoulder with an encouraging smile.
"Chin up, Noah," he said, with that ever-present cheer in his voice. "Maybe he wants to talk about Thornwick? Y'know since you're going to be dropped off there?"
I half-smiled at him and nodded.
I left Luca behind, making my way through the throng of people and towards the head of the caravan. I passed workers, traders, and guards, all busy with their morning chores.
What could he possibly want with me? I wondered. But there was only one way to find out.