Kaelin drifted with the river's slow-moving current, his body aching and heavy, his mind a swirl of conflicting emotions. The sword at his side rested on his chest, its faint glow pulsing in rhythm with the beating of his heart. Every breath he took was labored, his lungs burning from the cold water and the strain of the fight.
Above him, the pale sky stretched endlessly, its muted light casting everything in shades of gray. He didn't know how long he had been floating—minutes, hours, perhaps even days. Time seemed irrelevant in this place, where everything felt disconnected from reality. All he knew was that he was alive. Barely.
As the river carried him further downstream, the oppressive silence began to fade. The faint sounds of nature returned: the rustling of leaves, the distant chirping of unseen creatures, and the soft babble of the river as it flowed over rocks. It was a strange contrast to the lifeless forest he had woken in, as if this part of the world still held remnants of vitality.
The river curved sharply, and Kaelin's body collided with the bank, jarring him from his daze. He groaned as he clawed at the muddy shore, dragging himself onto dry land with what little strength he had left. His arms shook as he pulled himself upright, collapsing onto the soft grass.
The chill of the river clung to him, his soaked robes offering no warmth. He shivered violently, his breath visible in the cold air. Yet even as his body protested, his mind refused to rest. The fight replayed itself over and over in his head—the creatures, their eyeless faces, the towering monstrosity that had nearly killed him. And the sword… its strange glow, the surge of energy that had saved him at the last moment.
Kaelin turned his head to look at the weapon. It lay beside him, its blade pristine despite the battle. The faint hum he had felt earlier was stronger now, almost as if it were alive, waiting for him to acknowledge it. He reached out hesitantly, his fingers brushing the hilt. The moment he made contact, a wave of warmth spread through his body, chasing away the cold and dulling the pain in his limbs.
"What are you?" he murmured, his voice hoarse and barely audible.
The sword offered no answer, but Kaelin didn't expect one. He had seen enough to know that this blade was no ordinary weapon. It was bound to him, connected in ways he couldn't yet understand. And if he was going to survive in this strange, hostile world, he would have to trust it.
With a deep breath, Kaelin pushed himself to his feet. His legs trembled under his weight, but he steadied himself, using the sword as a makeshift crutch. The forest stretched out before him, dense and foreboding, but the air here felt different. Lighter. Warmer. It was a fragile respite, but it was enough to give him hope.
Kaelin surveyed his surroundings, taking in the faint trails of smoke rising in the distance. Smoke meant fire. Fire meant people. And people meant answers—or at the very least, some semblance of civilization. He adjusted his grip on the sword and began walking, his steps slow and deliberate.
The journey was arduous. The terrain was uneven, the ground littered with roots and rocks that threatened to trip him at every step. His body ached with each movement, but he pressed on, driven by the distant promise of clarity. The smoke grew thicker as he approached, its scent mingling with the earthy aroma of the forest.
Eventually, the trees thinned, and Kaelin emerged into a clearing. His breath caught as he took in the sight before him. A small village lay nestled in the valley below, its buildings simple but sturdy. Smoke rose from chimneys, and the faint sounds of activity reached his ears—voices, laughter, the clatter of tools. It was a scene so ordinary, so mundane, that it felt utterly alien after the horrors he had faced.
Kaelin hesitated at the edge of the clearing. He had spent his life as a warrior, a leader, a general. He was used to command, to the deference of others. But here, in this strange world, he was nothing. A wanderer. A stranger. And if the creatures that had attacked him were any indication, this place was far from safe.
He gripped his sword tightly and began his descent into the valley.
The village was alive with activity. Men and women moved between buildings, carrying supplies, tending to animals, and repairing tools. Children darted through the streets, their laughter echoing in the crisp air. It was a stark contrast to the lifeless forest and the cold, empty riverbank.
Kaelin's arrival did not go unnoticed. The villagers paused in their tasks, their gazes shifting to him with wary curiosity. He didn't blame them. He must have looked like a ghost—soaked, battered, and carrying a blade that glowed faintly even in the daylight.
"Who are you?" a voice called out.
Kaelin turned to see a man approaching. He was tall and broad-shouldered, his face weathered by years of hard labor. His hand rested on the hilt of a crude axe at his side, a clear warning that he was prepared to defend his people if necessary.
"I'm…" Kaelin hesitated, his throat dry. What could he say? He didn't even know where he was, let alone who he was in this world. "A traveler," he said finally. "I mean no harm."
The man's eyes narrowed, but he didn't draw his weapon. "You're armed," he said, nodding toward the sword.
Kaelin glanced down at the blade. "For protection," he said. "I was attacked in the forest."
The man's expression darkened. "The forest isn't safe. You're lucky to be alive."
Lucky wasn't the word Kaelin would have chosen, but he held his tongue. "I'm looking for answers," he said. "Anything about this place. Where am I? What is this world?"
The man's brow furrowed. "You speak as if you don't know."
"I don't," Kaelin admitted. "I… woke up in the forest. I don't remember how I got here."
The villagers murmured among themselves, their voices a mix of curiosity and suspicion. The man studied Kaelin for a long moment before nodding.
"You'll want to speak to the Elder," he said. "He knows more about this land than anyone."
Kaelin inclined his head in gratitude. "Thank you."
The man gestured for him to follow, leading him through the village. Kaelin's presence drew stares, but he ignored them, his focus on the promise of answers. The sword at his side pulsed faintly, as if it, too, anticipated what was to come.