Chapter Text
Your mouth is dry. Your legs burn. Every breath feels like it cuts into you.
You’ve lost track of how long you’ve been running. Days, maybe? The sun rises and the sun sets, and you just do your best not to die in between. You haven’t had actual clean water in two days, you know that much. Your stomach churns and you feel sick. There’s an aching behind your eyes that pulses in rhythm with your heartbeat. Yet another sign of the head wound you’ve been pretending isn’t there.
You gently touch the cracks on your curved dagger in anxiety. The hilt's bandage is slick with blood, most likely yours, although you’ve not been paying much attention.
You’re tightly coiled in high state of hypervigilance, twitching at every possible sound. If a shadow looks wrong, your hand is already summoning your dagger. You don’t know how long you’ve been hunted, only that this thing chasing you doesn’t seem to sleep. It’s always getting closer; it never slows down. You sense it the wind, in the dust at the valley behind you. You feel it in the way the earth vibrates beneath your boots. You rub the sweat out of your eyes, crusted flakes of blood falling from your hands.
I’m actually about to go insane.
The Forgotten Battlefield stretches out in all directions. It’s a mass grave of bodies, rusted steel, and the broken dreams of previous expeditions. The land is dusty and cracked, cratered from wars long past. Here and there, Nevrons skitter through the dust. Normally the thought of them wouldn’t bother you, but in your current state you avoided them like the plague.
Clutching your dagger, you sneak with urgency to reach the edge of a grassy cliffside. There! Beneath a tangle of collapsed rock is a shallow cave. Barely large enough for you to crawl into. You drag yourself inside, breath shallow and limbs trembling. Your hand finds the feather stitched near the collar of your coat. Pale, weathered, a little blood stained, and darkened at the tip. You rub your thumb over it, drawing some comfort from the motion.
You settle there for lord knows how long, trying to muster energy to move forward.
From your vantage point, you can see the Ancient Bridge. It’s a miracle that it’s still standing. Four figures are standing on it.
Wait, what?
Bewildered, you rub your eyes in surprise. How on earth…? Who are these people?
They seem tense and look like they’re in some kind of heated discussion. Their voices don’t carry, but their body language does. Relief floods you at the thought of having someone to talk to. But the air changes and you quickly feel sick.
Something stirs beyond the rocks and your lungs seize.
It’s here.
Your body moves before your mind realises it. You launch from your hiding place, legs screaming. The bridge is not far now. The world is blurred at the edges. You’re moving on instinct and shit I have no real plan.
I’m just running to join them, you try to convince yourself. But some guilty part of you feels like you’re using them as bait so you can escape across the bridge.
They turn as you race out into the open. A red haired girl reaches for her weapon. A taller, dark haired woman, shouts something you don’t catch. But it’s him, the man with dark hair, who locks eyes with you first. For a heartbeat, he’s still, his eyes wide with surprise. Then his brow furrows at your frenzied, bloodied appearance and he steps forward.
Your throat tears with your scream: “Run! It’s coming!”
The Dualliste erupts from the cliffs, a hulking figure of armour and a stench of burning rot. It hits the bridge with an earthquake like sound and a roar that shakes from the air to the bone. The bridge cracks and everyone falls.
For gods sake, you think bitterly, falling into what feels like an abyss. I didn’t even get halfway across the bloody bridge.
A bloom of light explodes behind your eyes as your head catches a falling stone and you barely register the heat wave roaring past as the Dualliste spins in a sweeping arc, catching two of the expeditioners off guard.
A dark haired woman pulls the redhead girl to her and a healing glow radiates from her hands. It lights up the ravine, highlighting hundreds of bodies frozen in their desperate final moments, eternalised in agony.
Feeling queasy, you push yourself up. Everything spins. You gag on bile, swallowing it down. No rest for the wicked, you think dryly, summoning a bow in your grip as you steel yourself.
“Ready?” The man's voice rings out to everyone.
As everyone springs into action, you draw quickly, summoning and firing an arrow that slams into the Dualliste’s shoulder. It falters just enough, giving time for the expedition to ready themselves.
Chaos begins as battle sounds through the air. The Dualliste lashes out with its wayyyy too many arms or am I just concussed?, it’s burning sword slashing numerous times, the blade blurring with lethal speed. The team scatters, shouting to each other as they try to coordinate.
You keep your distance, aiming to limit your movements as they fight in close combat, but still firing arrows to help. The Dualliste jumps and lunges at you. Ducking under a slash, the zing! sound of a mighty sword rushes past your ear, your hair whipping up from the motion. You stumble, begrudgingly joining the fight.
The Dualliste smashes its blade into the ground and a ring of flame explodes outward. You jump out of the way. It’s not done cleanly, but it’s enough to not get you killed. A tall, scythe weilding woman meets the creature head on. Her strikes are elegant and calculated. Pretty cool weapon, you muse.
The Dualliste raises a blade toward the healer, moving with incredible speed to deal a huge blow. With a shout, you force your nausea down and, quick as a flash, you run to shove her out of the way in the nick of time. The blade's tip scrapes across your back, and you feel a sharp sting as you shove the woman out of the way.
“Thanks,” she gasps, stirring herself to stand in a sea of blood. You groan, half sitting as you steady yourself. Ow. You spit onto the floor, summoning your bow once more. With a grunt, you take her outstretched hand and stand.
“Hey,” you rasp, “can your fancy magic fuse with my arrows?” You wiggle your fingers in an attempt to emphasise your point.
The woman readies herself, swirling her hands as they start to glow a brilliant white. “No idea,” she responds. “But there’s no time like the present.” Your mouth pulls into a tight line of grim determination. Light gathers around your arrow as you draw the bow, light energy pulsing gently around it.
Inhale aim, you lick your bloodied lips. Exhale fire. You release the arrow. It whistles through the air like a shooting star. It strikes true, square in the Dualliste’s throat, and explodes on impact. The beast staggers.
You sprint forward, disappearing your bow and conjuring your daggers mid stride. One straight and lengthly, the other curved, serrated and cracked. You dive low, ignoring the pain in your back as you slash across its feet, rolling under it. With a cry of determination, you scale it and drive your blades into its back between notches of its armour.
Now you know how it feels, asshole.
It howls with rage and throws you off. Whilst it’s distracted, the others attack, diverting its attention. You lie on the floor, blood sloshing around you, listening to the others deal their final blows.
Everything goes quiet. One of the expeditioners coughs. Thank fuck that’s over.
Heaving yourself up, ears ringing and knees buckling, you ready yourself for a conversation you don’t particularly have the headspace for. But before anyone can actually gather themselves—
The Dualliste rises from its knees. God damnit. It screams in deafening rage. You spit and wipe some blood from your mouth with the back of your sleeve. A new sword forms in the Nevron’s grasp, glowing purple and humming with unnatural power.
Of course, you think bitterly. It is called ‘The Dualliste’.
It moves faster than you do, that’s for sure. Three huge shadowy figures race towards you and pain flares as you attempt to roll out of the way. The Dualliste’s blade catches the back of your shoulder as it lunges forwards and-fuckthatburns-your body twists with the momentum. You spin, landing hard on your back, summoning the bow and with surprising precision, you fire, hitting it clean in the head. Nowhere near enough to kill, mind, but enough to stagger it.
The man from the bridge takes the opening and the battle starts up once more. Elements flash as spots dance in your vision. You lurch, moving on instinct to dodge left as the new blade slashes where your ribs were a split second before. The gush of wind from the strike alone is enough to knock you off balance, and so you drop to your knees. You scramble, one hand gripping the ground, the other lifting your bow. From the corner of your vision, you see the feather flutter against your jacket, catching on your coat’s frayed edge. Drawing comfort from it, you steel yourself and fire again. There’s a flash of white as the mage synchronises her attack and lights up the arrow. It hits the Dualliste, but barely seems to do anything.
As it turns its attention to you, the man, moving like a shadow—fluid, exact, dangerous—thrusts his blade upwards in an arc, striking the Dualliste’s exposed flank. His off-hand dagger flashes to parry the creature's surprised counterblow. The redhead charges in from the other side, her movements brash and burning. Her sword glows faintly at the tip, crackling with fire as she drives it into the beast’s thigh with a cry. The Dualliste snarls and swings wide, forcing them apart but not before they’ve carved twin paths of damage across its frame. It staggers, briefly stunned.
A brunette woman helps you stand. Her eyes are kind, steady and calm.
“You good?” You grunt in acknowledgement, nodding in thanks. She nods back. Then, sweeping her scythe low in a tight arc, she carves through the air like it’s silk. She pivots on one foot, twisting with the momentum, and slams the blade into the joint of the Dualliste’s shoulder. Sparks erupt. It reels back with a sound akin to shrieking metal on metal, but the woman is already moving again in a mesmerising dance. Dazed, you watch, her one hand steadying the haft of her weapon, the other tracing a sigil in the air that burns brief and silver. A pulse of force drives the creature backwards a step, giving the redhead room to reposition and, more importantly, giving you a breath to steady yourself. The brunette's eyes meet yours through the chaos. She nods once. Then turns to deal a lethal blow.
The Dualliste strides forward in a spinning attack which the brunette expertly dodges. The mage launches up, her eyes catching yours as you shoot arrows with quick precision into the air. An ethereal blue glow surrounds her as she throws elements forward, combining them with your arrows to batter the Nevron. The young redhead spins, slashing across The Dualliste’s face. Lastly, the man shouts as he channels chroma into his sword, magnifying its power as he rushes forward in an expertly placed slash across its head to deal a death blow.
The Dualliste stumbles to its knees, gently fading away in golden light. With a sigh, you look for somewhere to sit.
Grimacing, you realise there isn’t one.
Unless I want to sit on bodies.
“Well,” a slightly out of breath voice sounds out, “turns out this Nevron wasn’t that strong, but you did well.” He casts his eyes over everyone to check them for injuries. “You learn fast.” He catches your eyes and marches towards you as the others comfort each other.
He stops beside you, his eyes search yours with a flicker of uncertainty. “Are you alright?”
You lick your chapped lips as your vision swims a touch.
The mage's voice sounds out in your direction, “Who are you?”
You turn to respond. But as you do, your body curls, and you retch.
Your stomach heaves and bile hits the bloodied floor. You’re half kneeling, barely upright, and trying to breathe through the burn in your throat. It’s only then you notice a hand on your shoulder and fingers tangled in your hair, both steadying you and holding your hair back.
You blink hard at the man next to you, before a wave of nausea hits you and you heave, this time with nothing coming out.
The man doesn’t speak. He just stays there until the retching subsides.
Boots slosh in the blood nearby as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “What happened before, on the bridge? And what expedition are you from?”
“Lune,” the brunette cuts in gently but firmly. “Not here. We should get out of the ravine first.”
The ground is unstable, slick with blood and fractured stones. The remnants of the bridge loom above like broken ribs. No one says much as you all begin the climb out. You feel breathless and queasy and your limbs shake with the effort of holding you up. Twice, your foot slips. On one occasion, the man steadies you without a word. You cast him a grateful glance.
At the top, the world evens out. Grass pushes through the cracked earth. A soft wind combs the tall plants along the path. It’s almost like we all didn’t nearly die or something.
“Okay,” the brunette says, catching her breath. “Now we talk.”
They form a loose semicircle around you. You lower yourself to sit on a rock with your legs resting awkwardly, one arm braced against your side.
What you guess is now Lune’s voice, comes softer now, but still eager and with a slight edge.
“Who are you? Are you from an expedition? I sure don’t recognise you from 33.”
You swallow hard. The world tilts slightly as a mild wave of nausea hits you. You force it back down.
“I…” you lick your lips, clearing your throat. “I don’t know,” you grit your teeth as you cradle your arm and ribs and then add, quieter, “I hit my head pretty hard.”
Concern and curiosity flickers through them. Lune crouches nearby with a hum. She reaches to move your hair to the side to examine your head, but you flinch back before she can touch you. It’s not on purpose; your body just moves faster than your thoughts. A jolt of pain races up your back in response. Your punishment for moving.
“I want to check you over. If that’s okay—” She stills, then pulls her hands back with a small nod of acknowledgement at your disturbed look. “Alright. We can take it slow.”
You expect tension from them, or maybe suspicion, even. But mostly you find caution and exhaustion. No one seems ready to press you.
The redhead speaks up, then. Her arms cross as she eyes you evenly.
“Well, whoever you are, you fought with us. That’s got to count for something.” You lock eyes with her. She extends her hand with a polite smile, her back theatrically straight. “I’m Maelle.” You shift slowly, careful not to bother your injuries too much and gently shake her hand.
“I’m Lune,” the healer greets you. She now looks a little abashed. “Sorry for hammering you with questions whilst you’re injured.”
“Get used to it,” the man says with a dry chuckle. “Once she starts asking questions it’s hard to make her stop.” Lune rolls her eyes, opening her mouth to defend her honour, when the brunette cuts her off with a chuckle.
“I’m Sciel! It’s nice to officially meet you.” You tilt your head lightly in acknowledgement, before casting your eyes to the man.
He frowns at you for a good few moments before extending a hand. He plasters a warm smile on his face that doesn’t quite seem to meet his eyes. You narrow yours.
“I’m Verso.” There’s a pause whilst you cautiously shake his hand. He gestures aimlessly. “You said you hit your head?”
“Yeah. Twice, actually, I think,” you muse, “ and both times were pretty hard.” You touch the back of your head in discomfort. Verso hums in thought. The others exchange some glances and nods before— “Well you’re welcome to join us on our way out of here. Perhaps with some rest you’ll remember something. And, who knows? Maybe we can help each other out.”
“I know I’m heading for the monolith,” you say with a frown. “But yeah, not much else.”
“We’re making our way there, too,” Lune cuts in.
Glancing towards the horizon, Verso lifts his chin. “We’re going through the forest for now. To the red and white tree,” he catches your gaze with a casual shrug. “If you know of it.”
“We’re laying someone to rest,” Maelle adds, already turning away.
They don’t elaborate. And you don’t particularly want to ask.
The walk is slow. You’re limping but you’re so injured that strangely, you feel like you’re floating as time passes. The head injury sure isn’t helping.
The shattered remains of the bridge fall away behind you. Gradually, the terrain softens further. Gentle hills roll out ahead, their tufts of grass catching the sunlight. It’s oddly serene compared to the previous hellscape you were just in. You feel it before you fully register it: the tension in your shoulders starts to ease. This air smells of earth. Not rot and death.
Eventually the tree in question comes into view. Its trunk is thick and stoic. Its red and white leaves drift in the breeze like ink swirling through water. The branches stretch wide in a way that’s embracing. It’s peaceful and delicate. Fabric flutters from its limbs—expeditioners’ armbands, you realise—some faded, some tied in more recent years. Dozens, maybe even hundreds more, are secured to sticks and nearby trees. A graveyard of ribbons. You touch your feather, seeking comfort.
“Is this the place?” Maelle asks.
“Yeah,” Verso replies. He pauses, looking toward the roots. “We can bury your friend underneath this tree, if that’s okay with you.”
Maelle only nods.
They don’t have a body, you note. Only what looks like a prosthetic arm to remember their friend by. It’s dark metal, scorched and broken along the end. Whatever killed them must’ve been brutal.
“I’ll go over there,” you wave off to the distance, “to give you guys some space.”
You step back from the group and trudge on. Your back, arm and side are still aching. Your fingertips brush against the stitching on the front of your coat as you walk stiffly. The feather. Absent mindedly, you pick the crusted blood out of its stained white bristles.
You don’t remember where it came from. Well, to be honest you don’t remember anything at the moment. But it’s mine. That much you know.
You stare further down the path, trying to make sense of the past few hours. The past few… days? Weeks, even? Time feels a little meaningless these days.
A noise of big footsteps pads somewhat softly nearby. You glance up and pause in surprise.
The creature in front of you is massive. It’s round and covered in what looks like ceremonial cloth. Its form is plush, almost marshmallow-like, and a wide mask sits atop its head. Despite its strange appearance, your heart doesn’t race. It doesn’t scream danger. It feels… familiar. Comforting.
“Hi!” It says brightly, voice lilting with a childlike joy. “You’re injured all over. Did you fall and hit your head again?”
You… Huh? Again? You blink. He knows?
“Do I know you?” You ask, voice hoarse with a mix of confusion and tiredness.
The being tilts slightly, like it’s thinking so very hard.
“Maybe. Maybe you don’t. That happens sometimes.” You’re not really sure how to respond to that. You flounder for a moment, not being able to form the words. You gape, a little speechless. “I’m Esquie,” the being says. “And no matter what, we will be buddies.” He extends his arms in an invitation, indicating you should sit with him if you so please.
Somewhat flabbergasted, you do sit beside him.
Esquie doesn’t say another word. Just hums to himself softly. You lean against his side, mindful of your injuries. Your hand curls around the feather on your jacket. The trees sway gently in the breeze. Behind you, the others remain in mourning.
You sit in the quiet.
Eventually exhaustion wins. Your eyes close.
Someone shakes your shoulder. A jolt of pain shoots up your back from your flinch of surprise. With a grunt, your dagger shimmers into existence as you open your eyes, turning to face the intruder.
“Sorry,” a shy voice murmurs. You sigh. It’s only Maelle. You vanish your weapon.
I must’ve fallen asleep. You glance at Esquie. He doesn’t seem to mind. Anyway, he’s actually pretty comfy.
“We’re going to set up camp just ahead,” she says. “C’mon. You can sleep for real once we get there.”
She helps you to your feet. The sun is low and sky glows faintly orange as you follow the team into the trees.