A young man with a fair face no older than seventeen can be seen barely holding onto a spear, his fiery red hair was unkempt and messy his face was pale as a ghost and his eyes were full of terror but he isn't the only one like this.
The young man was standing in the heart of a formation, even with the terror in his heart he kept a steady breath unlike the others—his companions, his comrades— some were shivering and some were frozen stiff, some could barely stand, but all of them had eyes wide open filled with terror, tears can be seen running through their face, they gripped their weapons tight. It was like an invisible sinister force was pressing down on them.
But how could they not feel this way? They were being sent to certain death.
An elderly gentleman looked at the young man with a gaze full of pity and said with a sickly voice, "How old are you?"
The young man responded with a steady voice, "I'm fifteen sir."
The elderly gentleman sighed
"I see, you're one unlucky child, to think someone as young as you was still not safe from the selection."
The elderly man quickly followed up
"Those damned village chiefs, they think we're just some disposable cattle—sending us to the forest with barely any equipment nor food and water—and our way finders are just three initiate stage Essence Whisperers, two Essentia's and one Awoken, they didn't even bother sending in a Seeker." The man said angrily, his grip on his spear tightened.
The young man could only look at the elderly gentleman, his face full of understanding.
The young man exhaled slowly, his fingers twitching at his side. The weight of the elder's words settled heavily on him, the truth taking shape in his mind.
"They didn't even try to make this a real expedition," he murmured. "It's like survival was never the goal."
His gaze drifted to the others, reading the unease in their faces, the way their hands wavered at their sides. "Two Essentia and one Awoken against whatever's waiting in that forest?" His jaw tightened slightly. "No Seeker. No real provisions. They're sending us out there blind."
He let out a slow breath, steadying himself. "So either we follow orders and hope for a miracle… or we figure out how to survive on our own."
The old gentleman studied the young man for a long moment, his grip on the spear loosening just slightly. There was something in the boy's voice—not fear, not desperation, but something steadier. A quiet defiance.
He exhaled sharply, nodding. "Hmph. You speak like a man who's already seen the worst of this world." His gaze flickered over the young man, as if searching for something. "What's your name, boy?"
The young man met the old gentleman's gaze, his expression steady despite the weight of the moment. He hesitated for half a breath, then said simply, "Rain."
The old man let out a chuckle and said, "Rain huh? Well we surely need some with the tiny amount of water they gave us for this damned expedition."
As the old gentleman opened his mouth to talk more, he quickly fell silent at the sharp command that cut through the air.
"Attention!"
The voice rang out with authority, silencing the murmurs among the gathered soldiers. One of the Essence Whisperers had spoken.
The man who had called out stood taller than most, his frame solid and imposing. His gray hair was neatly kept, and a weathered brown cloak draped over his broad shoulders. He carried himself with an unshakable posture, every inch of him exuding discipline and control.
His piercing gaze swept over the small army before he spoke again, his voice fierce and unwavering. "Steady. In just a few minutes, we will be stepping into the Forsakened Vale. If you have tears to shed, do it now—because once we're inside, your cries will only bring death to the rest of us."
A tense silence followed his words.
"I will not suffer cowards in my expedition." His tone grew sharper. "I am Bryan Moore, an Essence Whisperer of the Initiate Stage, Awoken. From this moment on, you will follow my orders without hesitation. Doubt me, question me, and you will be punished—harshly."
His gaze lingered over the crowd, daring anyone to defy him. "Do I make myself clear?"
The silence was suffocating, broken only by the distant rustling of trees. No one dared to speak or even breathe too loudly.
Bryan's sharp gaze swept over the group, lingering just long enough to catch any hint of defiance. After a few moments, he spoke again.
"Since no one seems to have any complaints, I'll assume I've made myself clear. Now, I will explain our formation for this expedition." His voice remained firm, unwavering.
"You will be divided into three groups. I will lead the first, and my fellow Essence Whisperers will command the second and third."
He gestured toward the two figures beside him, pausing to indicate a young woman with ember-like orange hair and sharp brown eyes. A simple brown robe hung from her frame, but there was nothing modest about the power in her stance.
"This is Emily Strife, an Essence Whisperer of the Initiate Stage, Essentia. She will lead the second group. You will obey her as you would me."
His gaze flicked back to the assembled soldiers before he added, "And to be clear—I give her full permission to burn anyone who defies her orders to a crisp."
Emily's lips curled into a wicked grin as her gaze swept over the crowd. A few soldiers instinctively took a step back, their nervous gulps barely audible over the tense silence.
Bryan then shifted his attention to the man at his other side—a stark contrast to Emily. White-haired and red-eyed, he stood still as stone, clad in a steel chest plate with a single shoulder guard. A sword rested at his hip, untouched, but somehow more threatening.
"This is Diego Tang," Bryan continued. "Like Emily, he is an Essence Whisperer of the Initiate Stage, Essentia, and like her, he has full permission to deal with disobedience as he sees fit. If you cross him, he will cut you down where you stand. He will lead group three."
Diego didn't react. No smirk, no threat—just silence. A cold, lifeless stare.
The unease in the air grew heavier, even worse than when Emily had smiled.
After a brief shuffle, the groups were finally sorted, each soldier falling into place. Rain found himself assigned to group three.
Bryan's voice rang out, sharp and commanding. "Prepare your equipment—we're heading into the forest. One mistake could cost you your life, so follow orders."
Rain marched in silence, his gaze fixed on the ground as he followed the man ahead of him. His thoughts churned with each step.
'The Forsakened Vale, huh? The place where so many have died… where my father and mother died. Some make it back to the village alive but never out the forest.'
He clenched his fists.
'But that won't be me. I can't afford to die here. I made a promise. I will survive.'