Although he currently rested, this was not his home—nor was he in any place he recognized. He could feel it, even more than he could see it: this wasn't home. Darkness surrounded him, pitch-black and ever-growing. He couldn't even see his own hands. Whatever lay ahead—or within—remained unseen. His bare feet pressed against a cold, jagged stone floor. It was rough, worn, and cracked, giving the impression of great age. His hands trailed along the wall for support. Like the floor, the wall was in ruins. Small, furry fingers caught on jagged stone. "Where am I?" he murmured under his breath, feet shuffling forward as his hands grew colder.
A reverberating clank echoed nearby, loud and sudden. He recoiled, pulling his hands from the wall and shielding his large, sensitive ears from the jarring sound. Inching forward, he spotted a bright light in the distance. It steadily overcame the void, though it filled him with unease. Embers from a torch fluttered closer, crackling and snuffling softly as it approached. When it came near enough, its flickering flame lit up the corridor, revealing a place in decay—covered in vines and mold. But what truly caught his attention—what frightened him—was the figure carrying the torch. It was a giant, made entirely of rock and stone. Moss covered large parts of its body, with flowers sprouting from deep cracks. The long-eared boy was already quite short, but the mossy titan's sheer size made him feel even smaller. His eyes widened. His body prepared to flee. But he held himself back. Offering a greeting might be better than running off into the unknown. "Uh… hey, I'm Mel. Do you happen to know where we are?" He kept his voice low, still unsure of everything.
Whether the giant heard him or not, it gave no response. It simply turned and walked the way it had come. Mel followed. Strangely, his body moved on its own. Their walk wasn't silent. The giant's heavy steps grated against the old stone floor, making Mel wince and shift uncomfortably, cheeks already burning a soft red. Eventually, they reached the end of the corridor, where a great door stood.
"Oh, is something important here?" As expected, the titan didn't respond. Mel sighed, stepped forward, and reached for the handle—the door exploded open, slamming into his face and sending him sprawling to the ground. A blur of shifting colors darted past at an inhuman pace. "H-Hey, wait!" he shouted, getting to his feet and sprinting after it. He quickly closed the gap, feet pounding against the floor—but not enough to catch the figure. Then, the figure glanced back and drew a sheathed sword from their belt. With swift precision, they stabbed it into the ground. The blade sent stones hurtling toward Mel at high speeds. Reacting instinctively, he kicked off the wall and grabbed a hanging vine, swinging to the other side. The spot he'd just vacated shattered from an unseen force.
He yanked the vine free and whipped it forward. The tip struck the stranger, slowing them just enough for him to pounce. They crashed to the floor, rolling until the stranger's sword clattered far away. Pinned beneath him, Mel finally got a good look. The figure wore a dark, hooded cloak and a strange, fully-concealing mask. "Wait! I promise I'm not hostile! I'm just… confused. Can you help me?" The masked figure paused, going still beneath him. "If what you say is true, then I must insist you let me go," they said—deep, assertive, and strangely cold. A bead of sweat traced down Mel's forehead. He nodded and let go, stepping back. The tall figure rose slowly, then bolted again. Now with a clearer view, Mel saw the afterimages trail behind them—blue, green, red, and other shifting hues. They retrieved their sword and sheathed it—only to suddenly erupt in violent coughs.
Mel stepped forward to help, but the stranger raised a hand. "I'm fine," they rasped between coughs. When it subsided, their voice came out more gravelly. "If you seek answers, then we must leave. These parts are not safe." They limped ahead, Mel following close behind. Leaving the corridor, they found themselves in gsigantic ruined having emerged into the ruins of a castle. Its collapsed ceiling revealed only open sky and wreckage.
A thought—a memory, perhaps—struck Mel. He grabbed the stranger's shoulder. "Wait, what about that creature?" The masked figure turned. "Hm? You must be mistaken. This place has been abandoned for ages. The only things lurking here are corrupted spirits." Mel, who was about to question further, was cut short by the swordsman who kept walking. "Yet another reason to leave" they added with firm insistence. They leapt onto a fallen beam, scanning the distance. Then jumped back down. "Talenos is not far from here. We can talk there." The wind stirred, and Mel's long ears fluttered, tucked behind his hat. "What's Talenos?" he asked, brushing his fingers through his hair. The swordsman glanced back, their mask unreadable, silence weighing heavy. Exclaiming while starting to march down the mountain; "We should get moving-" they said. "It's a long walk." When the two had walked down, the height difference was apparent. The stranger, almost six foot, the child, a measly four. From the downslope of the mountain, feet trudging on dry dirt and long wild grass—Mel questions; "So, Mr…?"
The taller individual responded; "Remeni Vi Tahual, but please, address me as Rem. What would be yours?"
"Oh, it's Mel. Nice to meet you!" They followed this with a hand outstretched to him, albeit from their difference in height, Mel's hand held upwards. Rem grasped it, shaking it whilst they kept moving. "So, what is it you wished to ask of me?" The child's feet slowed, eventually stopped. Scratching the back of their head, shaking their ears, they groaned and murmured. "To be honest, I… can't remember. Uh, nevermind" Not before long, the sun had begun to break and rest. By the time they reached the end of the hill, the moonlight was their only source of light. Falling to the ground, Mel grasped, laying down on the dirt as Rem held their hilt, sword in hand. like before, attacked the air, swinging above their head, following suit with a small gust of wind and numeral branches ahead falling into his now empty hands and a blade tucked into its scabbard. Throwing the sticks onto the floor. "Regrettably, I carry no embern, nor possess any gift for the mystic arts. Have you any means to light a fire?" Tilting his head in confusion, he reached into his tudored capelet and held out a box of matches, lighting one onto the pile of branches and a warmth of flames brewed after. "Interesting. We'll rest from here and continue when the sun awakes once more. Please have a good rest till then" Rem asserted, leaning towards the fire while sitting down.
Raising his head, the boy questioned, "What about you?" "I'll watch over the flame while you're asleep. you need rest, I don't." After a long pause, Mel laid once more, muttering a thank you as they stopped moving. Time passed by, and Rem had begun to feel dazed, their eyelids weighing heavy by the minute. Turning towards the child, they saw the boy shaking, it was awfully cold that night. Getting up and strolling towards the boy, taking off their long black cloak and wrapping it around the boy's furry body. With blue bangs peaking out, they turned to the bushes and noticed eyes, purple as could be. One turned to two, two had changed to five, and so on. "Rest well" They sighed, leaping ahead in a flux of colors and into the shrubs.