Aldrich and Aldana pressed onward, the torch's flame cutting a jagged path through the darkening forest, its glow dancing off twisted branches. Soon, they stumbled into a clearing where a wide river roared down a steep slope. The Lazo river churned fast and fiercely, crashing against rocks that gleamed wetly in the firelight.
Aldrich thrust the torch forward, squinting to pierce the shadows, his throat tightening. He glanced at Aldana, her face a mask of familiarity, unfazed by the deadly current. He wasn't. The Lowlands' eastend, his home, was a parched sprawl of dust and wells. Rivers and lakes could only be found in the Northend and Westend. Southend, he'd heard, was even drier, a wasteland of cracked earth.
"How do we cross this?" he asked, eyeing the torrent.
"We swim," Aldana deadpanned, locking eyes with him.
Aldrich's jaw almost dropped, shock stealing his words, until her lips curved into a sly smile.
"Joke," she said, and his tension eased, though he wondered who delivered humor with such a stone-cold stare. She turned, striding up the slope, and he followed, boots crunching leaves.
They reached a rickety bridge, made with wooden planks lashed with straw. It swayed ominously over the roaring dark. Aldrich shot her a look, half-expecting another jest. "Stop kidding," he said flatly.
"What's kidding?" Aldana asked, tilting her head.
He sighed, turning away from her and glancing at the bridge, then at the hidden river's roar below. "Is this how I die?" he muttered under his breath.
"Don't be baby. Easy to pass," she said, leaping onto the bridge. It shuddered, swinging wildly, and Aldrich's stomach lurched, expecting the frail structure to snap, sending her plunging. But it held.
As he steeled himself to follow, a light flickered from their left, about three hundred meters off, drifting like a ghost through the trees.
Aldrich and Aldana tensed, hands tightening on their weapons, his sickle, her bow, ready to strike. The light grew closer, revealing a figure behind it, tall, nearly his height. It carried a flame on a stick, mirroring his torch. As it entered his fire's radius, the stranger's features emerged. He had short green hair streaked with soil, green eyes glinting in the light, a fresh cut on his pale chin, still pink. He had no shirt on but he wore combat pants and boots,with a sheathed sword slung across his back.
"Ahh, people, finally," he called, voice warm, a soft smile breaking across his dirt-smudged face as the light bathed him.
Suspicion narrowed Aldrich's eyes as he stepped forward, monitoring the stranger's movement.
"Who are you?" he asked.
The boy raised his hands in a playful surrender, the torch steady in his grip, its light dancing across his soil-streaked green hair. His grin widened, crinkling his eyes shut in a boyish charm that felt almost disarming.
"Sorry to startle you folks," he said, his voice laced with a cheeky lilt. "Name's Alan. I'm a candidate, same as you. Been wandering this hellhole alone all day. You guys do not mind company, do you?"
Aldrich's gaze flicked to Aldana, who immediately loosened her grip on her bow, her amber eyes brightening as a wide, trusting smile spread across her face. "Sure, sure. More the merrier," she chirped, her enthusiasm a stark contrast to the wariness still coiled in Aldrich's gut. He frowned at how she was quick to trust.
His attention shifted to the sheathed sword strapped to Alan's back, its hilt gleaming with the polish of a forger's craft, a weapon far beyond the crude tools of the Lowlands.
"Where'd you get that?" he asked.
"Oh, this?" Alan replied, unstrapping the blade with a casual shrug, the leather sheath sliding free to reveal a finely wrought edge. "There was a stall back at the registration hall. They sold just crude blades, sadly. I would've killed for a lightblade instead. But no, they stick us with these relics for the trial. Why do you ask? Your weapon…. is not half bad. It looks a bit strange, though. What city do you hail from?"
Aldrich's mouth went dry, the words striking a chord. Alan's smooth speech, the casual mention of having access to advanced weaponry. He was a Highlander, a child born to privilege, cradled in the lap of the uplands' wealth. The only Highlanders Aldrich had crossed paths with were military grunts, many of them were lowlanders once.
He glanced at his shirtless chest. A small gem was attached, embedded in his skin. He had not noticed it earlier, but now he did. A white core. It was his first time seeing one. Aldrich's scowl deepened, a bitter heat rising in his throat.
"Eastend," he said, his voice rough. "In the lowland, we weren't allowed weapons. Not much of a surprise that you Highland bastards get such special treatment. No wonder your survival rates are always much higher than ours." His anger surged.
Alan's eyes widened, a spark of awe igniting in their green depths, glowing like a child beholding a rare toy. Then, to Aldrich's utter astonishment, he straightened, bowed deeply, his torch dipping low. "Thank you for your service," he said, his tone earnest, almost reverent.
"What are you on about? What service?" Aldrich sputtered, his weapon lowering slightly, thrown off by the unexpected gesture.
Alan rose, a shy grin tugging at his lips. "Father says the Lowlanders toil so the Highlands remain comfortable. He told me to always give honor whenever I meet one. It's the least we can do."
Aldrich stared, the wind knocked from him. The least they can do? How about releasing white cores to the people that are working their heads off. The ones that actually mine the orbs that make these cores. The ones dying from the Gray disease! That's the least to be done. However, he swallowed his thoughts. There was no need to say all of that to a random highlander with probably no power to sway these things.
Alan turned to look at Aldana who was still standing on the bridge, the light from the flames faintly showing her.
"Are you also a lowlander, maam?" He asked., unable to see her features clearly.
"No. Me what your people call Sylvarith." She said, with a smile.
Aldrich monitored Alan's expression. He was curious about how he would react towards him travelling with a Sylvarith. It was weird that the hunter was in the company of its prey, was it not?. However Alan only laughed. "You really are interesting, goodsir. How did you get one of them to trust you?"
"You are not bothered?" Aldrich asked, a little bit surprised.
"Why would I be?" Alan asked. "I find this to be more interesting than slaughtering every thing I see, instead.
"And what will happen to gathering points?" Aldrich asked, smirking.
"Do you plan to befriend every creature on the planet?" Alan replied, folding his arms and returning a smirk.
"Good point." Aldrich nodded.
"We go now, forest get even more dangerous soon." said Aldana, heading forward.
"After you," Aldrich gestured for Alan to walk in front of him. Alan smiled and walked past him, climbing onto the bridge. He glanced down into the raging water, and clicked his tongue. Aldrich followed, his heart racing. He swallowed, hiding his fear behind a cold expression. The river was only about twenty meters wide. So, it did not take too long to cross it.
The trio's boots scraped against the far bank as they emerged from The Lazo's shadow, the rickety bridge groaning its last beneath them. Aldrich, the final to step off, exhaled a shaky breath, the tension in his shoulders unraveling like a taut wire cut loose.
The river's roar faded behind, its dark threat replaced by the jungle's silence. Alan turned, "You good?" he asked, his voice carrying a hint of concern.
"Yeah, if I never have to cross that damn thing again," Aldrich replied, straightening his spine. He shifted his gaze to Aldana, her nimble form already moving ahead. "How far's your settlement?" he called, his voice cutting through the damp air.
"Not far now," she answered, her pace quickening, the sack of carapaces swaying against her back.
Aldrich and Alan fell into step, their torches carving twin beams through the thickening dark, the flames spitting embers into the night."I never caught your name," Alan ventured, his eyes blinking curiously at Aldrich, the green irises glinting.
"Aldrich," he said, keeping his focus forward, the name rolling off his tongue. "Aldrich Alderman."
"And her?" Alan whispered, nodding toward Aldana's retreating figure.
"You should ask her," Aldrich replied, his gaze tracing her silhouette, her bow slung casually.
"I don't think she likes me much," Alan chuckled, he sounded awkward.
"She let you walk with us, didn't she?" Aldrich turned, the torchlight casting harsh shadows across his tired face, lines of exhaustion cut deep. "That's more than most get."
"Well, looks like she only did that because of you," Alan shrugged, his smile lopsided, testing the waters."She and I don't know each other that well," Aldrich admitted, turning away. "We only met a while back."
"How'd that happen?" Alan pressed, his curiosity undeterred.
"Are you always this nosy?" Aldrich scoffed, a wry edge to his voice, though a faint smirk tugged at his lips.
"What can I say? I'm a curious soul," Alan grinned, unapologetic, the torch swaying with his stride.
"Her name's Aldana," Aldrich relented, his tone softening. "She saved me from a colony of Skitterlings."
"You faced a colony of those things?" Alan stopped short, shock widening his eyes. "I could barely handle three."
"Just lucky, I guess," Aldrich said, shrugging off the memory.
He turned, meeting Alan's gaze. "What else did you run into out here?"
Alan rubbed his chin, a grimace crossing his features. "A grokath. Nasty beasts! Those massive stingers nearly ended me." He spat into the grass.
"Did you kill it?" Aldrich asked.
"I ran for my life. Kill it? Ha, not a chance."
"Well, it's not worth 800 points for nothing," Aldrich said, a smile breaking through. He'd have bolted too.
Aldana halted abruptly, her arms outstretched.
"Hold," she commanded, her voice a low hiss, her amber eyes narrowing as they swept the shadowed expanse. Her expression hardened into a mask of gravity, though her hands remained clear of her bow.. Aldrich studied her, his own gaze straining against the torchlight's frail reach, the twin flames doing little to pierce the thickening dark.
Alan's hand crept toward his sheathed sword, fingers brushing the hilt, his body tensing up.
"Don't," Aldana snapped, her tone sharp enough to cut. "They kill you," she warned, spitting the words with a ferocity that rooted them in place.
Alan's head swiveled to Aldrich, uncertainty flickering in his green eyes. Aldrich met his look with a curt nod, also releasing his grip on the sickle-arm, letting it thud softly to the earth. Alan hesitated, then withdrew his hand, the sword untouched.
In that suspended moment, two figures emerged from the gloom, not men like Aldrich or Alan, but figures like Aldana herself. Sylvariths, their tall frames and long, pointed ears imposing against the jungle's silhouette.
Aldrich's breath caught as he took them in. One perched on a high branch, a dagger glinting at his waist. His gaze was like a predator's from above, unblinking and cold. The other stood on the soft ground, broader and more muscular, a massive hammer strapped across his back. He stepped forward, arms folded over his chest, his presence a wall of muscle.
"Kriks Laknos Barki Adar shaq," he rumbled, his voice coarse, the foreign words rolling like a challenge through the still air.