His breathe caught, heart thudding in his chest like a warning drum. For a moment, everything went still — even the wind seemed to pause.
Then his eyes darted to the tree behind him.
The arrow was lodged deep in the bark, still trembling from the force.
That could've been my skull. He thought to grimly.
Whoever fired that arrow wasn't far. And they hadn't missed by accident. Or were they?...
He swallowed hard, a lump catching in his throat as a wave of panic surged through him. His eyes darted around, breathe quick and shallow.
No cover, I'm completely exposed. What now?
The waterfall roared behind him, loud and unforgiving. He could dive - disappear into the river - but what were the chances he'd survive the current?
Too risky.
Turning and running and running back into the forest? Equally hopeless. It was too far, too open. The next arrow would find it's mark before he even reached the trees.
He clenched his fists, jaw tight. Trapped. Hunted. And unarmed.
Think, Elian. Think.
He let out a shaky exhale through his parted lips, trying to steady the chaos building in his chest.
Then — a rustle.
Leaves shifted. A presence stepped out from the trees.
Slow. Silent. Deliberate.
A figure emerged from the shadows just beyond the treeline, cloaked in dark fabric, bow still in hand — aimed at Elian.
Their face was partially concealed beneath a hood, but Elian could feel the weight of their gaze - calm, calculating and... hostility? But it was clear that the figure are very much prepared to shoot again.
"I suggest you don't move." the figure said coldly, his voice low — male, and edged with hostility.
Elian froze, his body tense as his eyes locked onto the shadowed figure. His brows furrowed.
"...I'm not your enemy," He said cautiously.
The man's grip around the nocked arrow tightened, ready to draw at any sudden twitch.
"How are you so sure about that?" The man shot back. "You look very suspicious right now." His gaze drifted down to Elian's coat, studying it.
Elian blinked.
𝘚𝘶𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴? 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵...— 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴? 𝘐 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘨𝘢𝘻𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘭𝘶𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘵𝘰 rip them.
Before he could say anything, the man cut in again, his tone sharper now.
"Are you with them?"
Them?
Elian tilted his head, genuinely confused.
"What?... Them who?"
A pause. Tense. Loaded. The air around them were too heavy.
Then the man answered, eyes narrowing.
"The Black Sigil." The man paused before continuing,
"Three nights ago, two scouts from a hostile faction were spotted in the woods. They vanished without a trace. And now — here you are. Alone. Dressed oddly. In the same area."
Elian's brow furrowed.
Fantastic. Just- Fantastic. Wrong place, wrong area, and now I'm a criminal? What an amazing way to go. Just my luck.
"...That's not me," He said flatly. "I just woke up here, alright? I know it sounds suspicious, but believe me — it's the truth."
The man didn't lower his bow.
"If you're not one of them," he said sharply, "prove it."
Elian's brow furrowed. "How, exactly?"
The man's eyes narrowed. "First — tell me, who rules Ordis?"
Elian blinked at the simplicity of the question.
"Emperor Tharenval the Fourth." he answered, without hesitation. "Though some records dispute that, claiming his brother Almaric took control in the final year. Depends on who you ask."
A long pause.
The man's grip on the bow didn't loosen - but his expression shifted.
"...You know that name."
Elian frowned. "I should, obviously. It's not exactly a secret. Every historian worth their ink knows it. It would be pretty humiliating if I don't."
The man studied him with intensity.
"You answered too fast. Too... clean."
Elian raised an eyebrow.
"What? Isn't it a good thing?"
Another beat of silence passed before the man's brow twitched. He studied Elian longer — searching, measuring.
"Most around here wouldn't even say that name aloud. Especially not with that kind of certainty."
Elian blinked. "Why? He's been dead for over a hundred years-"
He stopped mid-sentence, lips slightly parted.
"...Right," he muttered to himself. "Maybe not here."
...
"Alright," the man said after a pause. "My apologies. Perhaps I judges too quickly. But I couldn't help it. You..."
He gestured loosely toward the arrow still in the tree behind Elian, just a few feet away.
"Really do look suspicious."
Elian exhaled, unamused.
"Ah well, thanks to your little 'welcome gift' back there, I nearly pissed myself thinking I'd die before breakfast. You have a real talent for hospitality."
The man let out a small chuckle under his breath and reached up, pushing back the hood of his cloak, revealing raven-black hair tied loosely behind his neck, with wild strands falling over sharp, steel-gray eyes. A faint scar marked beneath one eye, and a small woven charm dangled from his ear.
His hands were calloused, knuckled bruised - the kind that had drawn bowstrings for far too long.
"The name's Renric. Renric Halden." He offered a crooked grin. "And you?"
Elian crossed his arms. "Elian Rithenvar. And no, it wasn't nice to meet you." He huffed, brushing the dust from his coat.
Renric chuckled. "Fair enough." Then his tone shifted, more serious.
"Still — it's not safe here. Not with the chaos stirring lately."
He glances around, then nodded into the woods
"We'll head back to the village. You can ask your question there — preferably without getting skewered next time."
He turned, already moving. "Just stick close and don't wander. These woods'll swallow you whole if you're not careful. Like a living maze."
Elian's eyes narrowed at Renric's last words. "A living maze..." The phrase echoed in his mind. What could've shaped a forest into something so twisted? Was it nature... or something far older?
-
After what felt like another hour of weaving through dirt paths and thorn-choked trails, the trees finally gave way.
Nestled deep in the woods stood a village — quiet and humble, like it had been forgotten by time. Thatched roofs crowned weathered stone cottages, and crooked fences leaned around gardens of herbs and root vegetables. Lanterns hung from iron hooks, their soft glow flickering even in daylight. A smith's hammer rang faintly in the distance.
Elian slowed his steps, scanning the streets. No signs of electricity. No wires. No paved roads.
The world wasn't like the early modern age he knew.
Everything here felt older — simpler, but harsher.
Like stepping into a memory.
However, Elian brushed the thought aside.
No. This was probably just some remote village tucked deep within a forest. Still part of the world he knew... somehow.
But his mind remained restless — a storm of questions without answers.
Just then, Renric spoke, breaking his thoughts.
"This is Yvenwald. A small village that sits between the borders of Ordis and the Virelith Empire. Travelers usually stop here to rest before continuing their journey across either side."
He glanced back at Elian, now walking quietly beside him.
"Technically, this is still Ordis territory," Renric added.
They walked in step, boots crunching against the uneven cobblestone.
"I live here with my grandmother. It's always been a peaceful place..."
He hesitated, voice dimming.
"...Until the chaos began."
He paused, before replying more firmly.
"Anyway — we'll talk more later, like I said. Let's get you inside first."
They passed through the village square. A few townsfolk cast curious glances at Elian - his coat, his appearance, everything about him out of place. But Elian didn't care. He kept walking, unbothered, as always.
Eventually, they stopped in front of a modest house — wood-walled, ivy-clad, a little slanted with age. Renric pushed the creaking door open.
A warm voice called from inside.
"Renric? Is that you-?"
An elderly woman greeted them from inside — short, hunched slightly with age, yet her presence was firm. Wisps of silver hair were tucked messily beneath a worn shawl, and her eyes - sharp and storm-colored — held no trace of frailty.
Elian's gaze locked with hers just as she stepped forward, expecting a soft welcome.
He was wrong.
Smack!
Her palm landed squarely on Renric's arm.
"Ow-! Nana!" Renric flinched, rubbing the spot.
"That was uncalled for!"
Elian stood frozen, wide-eyed.
What... just happened?
The old woman huffed, voice laced with exasperation.
"You fool! How many times have I told you not to wander into that forest so carelessly?! It's bad enough it misleads anyone who steps too deep — but with the unrest stirring, are you trying to die?"
Nana shot one last glare at Renric before her gaze flicked to the unfamiliar figure beside him.
"...Oh? You brought someone home?"
Her brows arched.
"Now that's a surprise. With your personality, I figured no one would willingly walk beside you, let alone follow you home."
Before Renric could shoot back a reply, she turned her attention to Elian with a disarming smile.
"Hello there, young man. I do hope this fool didn't give you too much trouble on the way here."
Elian let out a short, awkward laugh.
"Ha... ahaha... surely... he didn't..."
Inwardly, his mind flashed to the arrow that nearly skewered his skull earlier.
Right. Trouble. Understatement of the year.
He exhaled and pressed a hand to his forehead.
What on earth have I gotten myself into?