Darkness swirled around William, a chaotic vortex of fragmented images and sounds, a swirling maelstrom of half-formed fears and impossible realities. He was running, stumbling blindly through a forest, the same forest he'd found himself in, yet twisted and corrupted, a nightmare reflection of its already unsettling beauty. The trees were gnarled and menacing, their branches clawing at him like skeletal fingers, their leaves rustling with whispers that sounded like mocking laughter. He could hear the guttural snarls of the goblin, but it wasn't alone. It was part of a horde, a grotesque, seething army of monstrous creatures – goblins, yes, but also larger brutes with hulking shoulders looking oddly like ogres or trolls, undead skeletons holding simple swords and shields, but literally thousands of them! Then there were things he couldn't even name, all variety of monsters that William had no idea about. Worst of all, the monsters looked organised, standing amongst their own kind, as if waiting for orders from someone or something. Monsters are generally disorganised and bicker amongst themselves, but this bunch looked like an army ready for war, it was frightening.
Above them all, a shadow loomed. It was formless, yet vast, an immense presence that dwarfed even the tallest trees, a swirling mass of darkness that pulsed with an almost palpable malevolence, a heart of pure, unadulterated evil. He couldn't see its features, couldn't discern any details, for it was a void, an absence of light, a negation of all that was good and wholesome. But he felt its power, its overwhelming desire for destruction, for the consumption of all things. It was the conductor of this monstrous orchestra, the puppet master pulling the strings of this terrifying army, the source of the blight that was poisoning this land.
He saw battles, brief, terrifying glimpses of flickering steel and desperate cries. Human soldiers, clad in dented and battered armour that seemed woefully inadequate, fought bravely, desperately, but they were outnumbered, overwhelmed by the sheer tide of monstrous forms. They fell beneath the onslaught of claws and teeth and crude weapons, their lines breaking, their formations collapsing, their hope fading like embers in a dying fire. He saw villages burning, fields ravaged, the land itself weeping under the shadow's influence.
However, William knew a resistance was forming, he sensed it, small, scattered bands of fighters, men and women, young and old, clinging to the last vestiges of hope, striking back from the shadows, ambushing patrols, disrupting supply lines. But they were losing, slowly but surely, being ground down by the relentless pressure of the shadow's army. They needed something, someone, to unite them, to rally them, to give them a fighting chance, a leader who could inspire them, a strategist who could outwit the darkness. They needed a miracle.
And then, the shadow turned its attention to him. It felt like a physical blow, a crushing weight on his chest, a suffocating presence that stole the air from his lungs, that squeezed the very life from his being. He tried to scream, to cry out in defiance, but no sound escaped his throat. He was trapped, paralysed, facing an unimaginable power, a cosmic horror that dwarfed his understanding. A voice, cold and ancient, echoed in his mind, not in words he could understand, but in a raw, primal feeling of dread and impending doom, a resonance that vibrated in his very bones. It felt like a call, a summons, a demand for his obedience, an invitation to join the darkness. He was meant to be a part of this, a pawn in this terrifying game, a tool to be used and discarded.
He wanted to resist, to fight back, to scream his defiance at the encroaching darkness, but he was powerless, a tiny speck of dust caught in a hurricane, a single flickering candle in the face of an endless night. He was overwhelmed, consumed by the shadow's power.
Then, just as suddenly as it began, the dream shifted, fractured like a broken mirror. He saw a glimmer of hope, a tiny spark in the overwhelming darkness. He saw a small band of people, no more than a dozen, huddled around a flickering fire in a hidden clearing, their faces grim but determined, etched with the lines of hardship and loss, yet still burning with a fierce, unyielding spirit. He saw a woman, young, but with eyes that held the weight of the world, the wisdom of ages, speaking words of courage and defiance, her voice ringing with a strength that belied her fragile appearance. He saw the faces around her, listening intently, drawing strength from her words, their fear momentarily forgotten. He saw a spark of resistance, a refusal to yield, a stubborn ember of hope in the face of overwhelming odds.
And he felt, strangely, a sense of belonging, a pull towards these people, these fighters, these last remnants of a shattered world. He wanted to help them, to stand with them, to fight alongside them. He needed to help them. He wasn't alone. There was hope. There was a chance. The dream faded, leaving behind a lingering echo of fear, but also a faint, persistent glimmer of hope.
William woke with a gasp, his body drenched in sweat, his heart pounding frantically against his ribs. He was no longer in the hollow of the tree, exposed to the elements and the dangers of the forest. He was lying on a bed of soft leaves and furs, inside a dark cave, the air cool and damp, carrying the scent of earth and something else, something medicinal, a faint, herbal aroma that soothed his ragged nerves.
He tried to sit up, but the sudden movement sent a sharp searing pain to the wound from his leg, forcing a groan from his lips and sending him crashing back down onto the makeshift bed. He looked down and saw that his leg was bandaged, not with the crude strips of his ruined clothing, but with clean, white cloth, expertly wrapped, the fabric surprisingly soft against his skin. The throbbing pain was still there, a constant reminder of the goblin's bite, but it was muted, less intense than before, a dull ache rather than an agonizing throb.
He looked around the cave, his eyes slowly adjusting to the dim light. It was small, barely large enough for three people, a natural crevice in the rock face, offering a measure of protection from the elements. A low fire burned in the centre, casting flickering shadows on the rough stone walls, providing a meagre source of light and warmth. And next to him, curled up on a bed of furs similar to his own, was a young woman.
She was asleep, her face turned towards him, bathed in the soft glow of the firelight. Even in the dim light, he could see that she was beautiful, with long, dark hair that framed a face that was both delicate and strong, a face that spoke of resilience and determination. But her beauty was marred by weariness, by the harsh realities of this world. Dark circles underlined her eyes, making them seem even larger and more luminous, and her skin was pale and drawn, her complexion hinting at exhaustion and perhaps even malnutrition. He also noticed several small cuts and bruises on her arms and face, partially covered by small, makeshift bandages, similar to his own, but made of a different, softer material. She looked like she'd been through a war, a silent testament to the dangers of this land. Yet, despite her evident hardships, there was a gentleness about her, a softness in her sleeping features that drew him in.
He shifted slightly, trying to get a better look, to study the details of this unexpected saviour, and the movement caused a rustling sound, the dry leaves beneath him crackling softly. The young woman stirred, her eyelids fluttering open. She blinked, disoriented for a moment, her gaze unfocused, then her eyes met William's, and she focused.
She sat up quickly, a look of concern crossing her face, replacing the peaceful expression she'd worn in sleep. She spoke, her voice soft but clear, a melody he couldn't understand, a language that flowed like water over smooth stones, rippling with an unfamiliar cadence and rhythm. Yet, despite the foreign sounds, there was a warmth in her tone, a gentleness that transcended the language barrier. He found himself captivated by the sound, by the musicality of her voice, even though he had no idea what she was saying.
William shook his head, trying to clear the lingering fog of the dream, the unsettling images and emotions that still clung to him. "I... I don't understand," he stammered, his voice hoarse and scratchy from disuse and dehydration.
The young woman frowned, tilting her head slightly, a delicate furrow appearing on her brow. Then, she raised her hands, her fingers moving in a graceful, intricate pattern, a silent dance in the flickering firelight. He saw a faint, golden glow emanate from her fingertips, a subtle shimmer in the air, like heat rising from sun-baked stone. It was beautiful, mesmerizing, a display of something he couldn't comprehend, something that defied the laws of physics as he knew them.
She spoke again, and this time, miraculously, he understood her. The words, though still spoken in that same musical voice, were clear and distinct, forming coherent sentences in his mind.
"Can you understand me now?" she asked, her voice laced with a gentle concern, a note of inquiry that eased his apprehension.
William stared at her, dumbfounded, his mind struggling to reconcile the impossible reality of what he was experiencing. "Yes... yes, I can. What... what did you do?"
"A simple translation spell," she said, with a slight shrug, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world. "A temporary measure, just so we can communicate. My name is Julia."
"William," he replied, still trying to process what had just happened, still grappling with the undeniable evidence of magic. "Magic... is that what you just did?" It seemed like the most absurd question he had ever asked, yet, in this context, it felt strangely appropriate.
Julia nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "A minor enchantment. It won't last long, perhaps a day or two at most. I found you in the forest, unconscious. You were injured. We brought you here, to this cave, to tend to your wounds."
"We?" William asked, his mind finally catching up, realizing the implications of her words.
"Myself and my companion, Edward. He's out scouting the area and looking for supplies. He should be back soon." She paused, her gaze shifting to his bandaged leg, her expression softening with concern. "Your wound... it was infected. A goblin bite, I presume?"
William nodded, wincing as he remembered the searing pain, the creature's teeth sinking into his flesh.
"You were lucky," Julia continued, her voice filled with a quiet authority. "You used the citrusroot leaves. They have potent healing properties, and would definitely be helpful against infection. They are quite rare to find, so you were extremely fortunate. It's already working, though you'll need to rest for a few days. We've been changing the dressing and keeping it clean using various things we have been able to forage, but you should get better in a few days." She gestured to a small pile of herbs and leaves near the fire, their unfamiliar shapes and colours adding another layer of mystery to this strange world.
William looked at the bandages again, a surge of gratitude washing over him, a warmth that spread through his chest, easing the lingering fear. He'd stumbled upon a cure by sheer luck, guided by seeing the leaves effects on the bugs, but ultimately it was still a blind leap of faith in a world that seemed to defy all logic. "Thank you," he said, his voice thick with emotion, the words inadequate to express the depth of his gratitude. "You saved my life. Both of you."
Julia smiled, a fleeting expression that briefly illuminated her tired features, a flash of warmth that reached into his soul. "We do what we can. These are dark times. We must help each other if we are to survive."
William decided to be cautious. He wouldn't reveal the truth about his arrival, not yet, not until he understood more about this world and these people. He needed to be careful, to observe, to gather information. "I'm not from around here, I have travelled far from my homeland, but I got lost in my travels and ended up here. I was foraging in the forest," he said, improvising, weaving a plausible lie, "Looking for edible plants. I got lost, disoriented, and then... the goblin attacked me. I barely managed to escape. I must have passed out from the pain and blood loss. I remember seeing the leaves, and... and I just hoped they might help."
Julia nodded, her expression sympathetic, her eyes filled with a knowing sadness. "Goblins are a menace. They've become bolder in recent months, venturing further from their usual territories, raiding villages, attacking travellers. They are a symptom of a larger sickness, a plague upon the land."
"Recent months?" William asked, seizing on the opportunity to gather information, to piece together the puzzle of this world. "What's causing them to be bolder?"
Julia looked at him, a flicker of sadness in her eyes, a shadow of the darkness he'd glimpsed in his dream. "The Dark Legion" she said, her voice barely above a whisper, as if the very words were dangerous. "Monsters generally kept to themselves for centuries, but recently, the emergence of the Dark Legion has emboldened the monsters, pushing them to spread across the land. The mastermind behind all this is Dark Lord Neverus, an unparalleled dark mage and necromancer intent on conquering the world. The Dark Legion has already taken control of a large part of this continent, but every day they continue to advance with their every growing army against the remainder. Their advance corrupts everything it touches, enslaving those they beat and pushing the survivors into a corner. People continue to fight back, but it has been tough"
William frowned, trying to process this information, to fit it into some kind of logical framework. "The Dark Legion, the Dark Lord Neverus. How long has this war been going for?"
Before Julia could answer, a gruff voice spoke from the cave entrance. "Julia? Are you awake? And how is the person we picked up faring?"
A man entered the cave, ducking his head to avoid hitting the low ceiling. He was tall and powerfully built, with broad shoulders and a physique honed by hardship, a warrior's build. He had a weathered face, tanned by the sun and wind, and sharp, watchful eyes that seemed to take in everything at a glance. He wore worn leather armour, reinforced with metal plates at the shoulders and chest, and carried a sword strapped to his back, the hilt well-worn from use, the blade gleaming faintly in the firelight. This must be Edward.
Edward stopped short when he saw William awake. He looked surprised, then relieved, a flicker of warmth crossing his usually stern features. He spoke to Julia in the same musical language William had heard earlier, a rapid exchange that he couldn't follow, even with the lingering effects of the translation spell, the words flowing too quickly for his mind to grasp.
Julia turned back to William. "This is Edward. He says the area is clear for now, but we should move on soon. It's not safe to stay in one place for too long, particularly not with goblins around, which means the Dark Legion might be close."
Edward approached, his eyes assessing William with a mixture of caution and concern, a warrior's scrutiny. He spoke, and thanks to Julia's spell, William understood him, the words forming clearly in his mind.
"You're awake. Good. Julia tells me you used citrusroot. Smart. Not many know of its properties, especially outsiders." He reached into a pouch at his belt and produced a handful of dried berries and fruits, a meagre offering, but precious in these circumstances. "Eat. You need to regain your strength. We have little, but you are welcome to share what we have."
William's stomach rumbled at the sight of the food, a loud, insistent growl that betrayed his hunger. He hadn't realized how ravenous he was. He took the offered food gratefully, nodding his thanks, his throat too tight with emotion to speak.
"I wanted to ask..." William began, finally finding his voice, but Edward cut him off with a raised hand, a gesture that was both firm and gentle.
"Questions later. Eat first. We need to move soon. This place, while offering some shelter, is too exposed. We are easy prey for any roaming creatures. There is a small town not too far east from here where we can rest and decide on next steps" He glanced towards the cave entrance, his expression hardening, his eyes scanning the darkness beyond the firelight.
They ate in silence, the only sounds the crackling of the fire, the occasional rustle of leaves outside, and the soft sounds of chewing. The berries were tart but sweet, bursting with flavour, and the fruit, though unfamiliar in shape and texture, was surprisingly juicy and refreshing, a welcome burst of sweetness. William felt his strength returning with each bite, the food fuelling his depleted reserves, chasing away the lingering weakness.
As he ate, he studied Julia and Edward, trying to glean more information from their appearance and demeanour. Julia, despite her gentle nature, possessed an inner strength, a quiet determination that shone through her weariness. Edward, though gruff and taciturn, radiated a sense of competence and protectiveness, a warrior's bearing that inspired a measure of confidence.
"What did you do?" William finally asked, turning to Julia, unable to contain his curiosity any longer. "Before... so that I could understand you."
Julia smiled, a fleeting expression that transformed her face, making her even more beautiful. "It's a simple language spell," she explained. "A minor enchantment that creates a temporary link between our minds, allowing us to understand each other's speech. It's not perfect, and it won't last forever. Ideally, if you're going to stay in this land, you should learn our language. If time permits, and it is your wish, I can teach you."
William nodded, his mind racing. Magic. Real, tangible magic. It was a concept he'd only encountered in fantasy novels, in the escapist tales he'd devoured as a youth. Now, it was a reality, a fundamental part of this world. He had so many questions, a torrent of inquiries bubbling up inside him. He wanted to know how magic worked, what its limits were, how it interacted with the world around them. He wanted to understand how things had gotten to this state with the Dark Legion, the resistance and how it was faring, everything.
But before he could voice any of these questions, Edward, who had been silently observing them, spoke.
"We should get moving," he said, his voice firm, brooking no argument. "The area is clear for now, but it won't stay that way. The once peaceful Tallenwood Forest is now the home to creatures and monsters, so we best to continue to move." He glanced at William, his expression softening slightly. "You're still weak. We'll travel slowly. But we need to find a more secure location before nightfall." He gestured to the meagre remains of their meal. "Finish eating, then we depart."
"It is called Sharwood town" Julia added "It is relatively safe there, and we should arrive there before nightfall" William felt a surge of relief. A town! The possibility of other people, of relative safety, was a beacon of hope in the darkness.
As they were finishing their meagre meal, a distant howl echoed through the forest, a long, mournful sound that sent a shiver down William's spine. Then another, and another, closer this time. It was a chilling chorus that painted a vivid picture of danger lurking just beyond. More worryingly, it sounded like wolves had caught their scent and could be heading closer looking for an easy feed.