The pitch black sky was illuminated by a crimson glow. The dark clouds softened as the world was bathed in a deep, radiant red. They swirled endlessly, rhythmic and familiar, as though repeating a motion long etched into existence.
The world lay beneath it all, drowned in that same crimson as the sun rose over the Unison Mountains.
Behind them, the fog stretched thick and unyielding, a boundless disaster with no clear origin, no visible end. It loomed far past Everdream's distant border, swallowing all that lay beyond.
Everdream's silhouette stood ahead, half veiled by distance rather than mist, its presence felt long before it was ever fully seen.
Now, the cobblestone road sloped upward beneath their feet, leading toward the gates of Everdream's outer settlements.
Oren sighed, then exchanged a placid smile with Selvar.
"We have finally made it. But... your home, you said it was somewhere nearby. Do you think the people will know how the fog came to exist? They might be able to help us..."
Still, Oren knew the chances of strangers helping the Immortal Demon were as low as the sun exploding. Looking at the archer, there was a slight, whimsical delay before he replied.
"There is no point. Such heritage is no more... it has long been destroyed... and those people do not accept outsiders after the previous Sunwane."
Selvar's words were somber, unlike the usual calm certainty he carried.
Then, he looked at Oren and suddenly laughed, because he too held an unusual expression. Oren was not sad, it just felt as though he was forgetting something.
'Sunwane...? Fascinating.'
He had heard that term before, but he did not remember who told him it... his mum? Father maybe, no, he had long forgotten their faces, let alone their words.
Perhaps it was in one of those villages destroyed by the Immortal Demon.
Or maybe it was back when he was a mere child. Even then, those memories were foggy, easily forgotten after a hundred years, with only the nightmares of his past remaining clear.
His eyes darkened slightly.
Sleep was never just rest for him.
Oren rarely slept nowadays, but when he did… when he closed his eyes, sometimes it felt as though he was reliving those moments, and at other times, he was watching something.
Unlike the dreams of his own past, the dreams of this blurry figure standing alone were often short and fleeting.
Seeing this being evoked emotions in him that he could not describe with words, as though he had lost something, someone.
And he did not know what, all he knew was that he wanted it back. He wanted was taking from him, he wanted his peace.
Oren looked away, into the distance and cleared his thoughts.
'Tssk... am I being haunted by a spirit?'
He chuckled, his eyes landing back on the golden thread between him and Selvar as he thought carefully.
'Whilst understanding the origins of the fog can help me, it will not benefit me in the long run. I will not be able to estimate the range of Erols that dwell within it. It is not important.'
Because one thing was clear. The mist was a graveyard of bodies. If they wanted to make peace in Everdream, that was the safe option.
On the other hand, to search the fog for something so intricate and uncertain, even with someone who can pierce its depths, is a fool's errand. They would not be accepted into Selvar's home.'
Selvar's calm, almost indifferent voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Oh, do not worry, Everdream's people will know a lot more than I ever will. That is the same for most people in Unison. So if you behave well, they might help you out."
Oren remained calm as Selvar let out a fascinated chuckle. After a while, he spoke.
"Ahahaha... interesting. Xeyren, for someone born here, and as ancient as you are, you tend not to know much."
"Let's hope this works, then."
Before the prestigious archer could sense the shift, Oren's smile turned cold. He stepped forward. A quiet, petty laugh slipped from him as he wrapped the thread tightly around Selvar's wrists.
"I admire your strategy but, let's not be so hasty now. I said I would escort you through the fog. I did that. I said I will be your hostage once we reach Everdream. I am still willing to do that, but when will you help me."
He paused for a moment, then smiled, interested in Oren's answer.
'How long is it going to take for me to get at least one thing in return.'
Oren smiled and did not respond.
Had Selvar forgotten that he could ask him any question?
Oren knew the archer did not expect him to contribute to finding the Erol at this point in time... no, or was he just seeing what his reply would be, simply wanting me to tell him his wisdom just because.
'Heh.' Oren laughed, gauging Selvar's intent.
"You are a smart person, but if I were you, I would ask as many questions as I could, whilst I could."
Selvar frowned, but since Oren did not want to waste time, and neither did Selvar, he was not beating around the bush. "This is our wager, remember, so until both conditions have been met, you are my hostage."
Oren sighed.
"Once we get inside Everdream, follow my lead. Do not get in the way... actually, stay silent if you must. Only take the time indoors, even then..."
Selvar immediately laughed, his grey eyes widening as he shuffled his feet. Clearly not thinking of anything useful to request, he went silent.
"Haha... I do not mind. Not at all. A deal's a deal, and you still have another condition. Let's just not pretend either of us is going to get more out of this than the other. We are both smarter than that."
Oren nodded calmly, then glanced at the string.
Though it was not as thick as rope, its length was extensive, forming a tight loop around his wrists. Such significance carried an unspoken truth... the wearer was no longer entirely their own.
And yet, for reasons even he could not fully grasp, Selvar did not resist.
If anything, he welcomed it, as though it would all be worth it in his unknown pursuit.
Giving the endless grey wall one last look, Oren stepped forward, taking the lead as Selvar shortly followed.
The outer settlements of Everdream clung to the mountainside in layers of terraces, buildings of stone and timber, wide and narrow walkways connecting them like veins.
Their wooden rooftops caught the first light of dawn, while stone paved paths twisted between the terraced homes.
To the left, just beyond the outer settlements, the pure lake mirrored the mountain and sky, its calm surface a stark contrast to the mist creeping in from the forest beyond.
To the right, it was as though a vast slope carved by nature itself had descended from the mountain's side, shaped especially for Everdream.
Beyond the last terrace, the cliffs dropped sharply, sloping seamlessly with the mountain.
From where Oren stood, it looked like Everdream's left side was climbing the mountains, trying to reach its peak, whilst its back was on the edge, about to fall.
Far above, the fourth mountain's peak was distant, yet impossibly high, a silent sentinel over the valley below.
It dwarfed the other three peaks of the mountain chain, piercing the dawn sky with its sharp edges. Everdream was most definitely the largest village out of the four mountains.
The mountain itself was also the largest, but for some reason, it felt as though there should have been another.
Oren let out a stifled curse.
They had finally reached the border, but as he suspected, the border was worn, old and tattered, a myriad of cracks running through its wall like the veins of a human.
Little pockets were embedded into these walls, a place for lanterns and torches, and yet there were none. It was as though they had stumbled upon a ghost town.
There was no line to enter the gate, unusual for a village, no, Unison's vast size was comparable to a city.
'The fog's causing...?' Or so he thought, but as they slowly approached the border's tattered gates, he saw a delayed reaction.
Standing by the gates, they were immediately met with the sight of two guards, one tall, imperious and imposing, the other a rat of a man.
"Do not step closer!" they declared, a faint, hurried breath escaping the shorter one. The taller, noticing this subtle, unprovoked change in his partner, spoke again.
"You are not welcome here. I can already see it. You two are troublemakers who want to leech off the poor outskirt men and women. How dare you. Do you have no shame."
The guard stared at the two figures, shadowed by the border, then froze, as though something had registered in his mind.
The man in front was handsome.
His pale blonde hair was messy, yet clean, and his complexion was even paler than his hair, as though he had lost blood. He was an archer, but he did not hold the guard's attention.
It was the other man, approaching ever so slowly, as though pushing against the weight of the world with every step. He was tall, an eagle of a man, yet something more beast than human.
But it was not his height that unsettled them. His face was a map of violence. Scars crossed over cuts, slashes carved into older wounds, piercings that should have never closed, yet somehow had.
Then their eyes slowly lowered to the bulge of his throat. Their mouths opened wide in horror.
An arrow lay in his neck, frozen in place, unmoving.
Something that should have reaped the life of this man. But he walked with the calm certainty of a predator.
"What… what are you… a ghost? Whoever you are, step back from the gate." His gaze hardened with quiet repulsion.
"Silence," Oren said. "If you value your lives, lower your tones." He froze for a moment, remembering to keep calm and to appease the guards.
He pulled the rope.
Selvar was forced to move forward with him. Oren stopped shortly after, sparing him a brief, knowing glance.
As he stared back at the two guards, he asked himself, a subtle doubt seeping into his thoughts.
'Don't I… know them?'
He could of sworn he had seen them before, in another village, they both looked uncannily familiar. But no matter how hard Oren rummaged through his mind for information, he could not piece together why he felt that way.
Maybe it was that he knew that sooner or later, the whole of Everdream would learn of who he was, a demon. The Immortal Demon. It always happened. It was always going to pan out like this.
So why not use this curse on itself. Oren laughed in his mind. To invoke fear first would be better than to be surprised randomly.
These people fear monsters, yet they bow down to them, so called predators, as though they are gods in a futile attempt to preserve themselves.
Though he was not a monster, he could play the part of one, and so Oren said with a dangerous smile.
"We are entering. Open the gate."
The taller guard's expression tightened.
"You will state your origin and intent before making demands."
Interrupting him, the smaller one spoke, hesitant but trying to remain composed.
"Travelers, I apologise for my subordinate's ignorance. He is… overly proud, and quick to take offence when miscreants approach and expect free passage into the largest settlement on these mountains."
He stared at Oren's neck, fear lingering in his gaze, mistaking the arrow for some sort of prop. "For you two, I'm sure we can make an exception… can't we?"
He nudged his partner, a thin smile forming.
Then it froze.
He realised something.
"You… came from the fog?!"
He paused.
"…Wait."
The guard stepped back, behind the other, startled.
"Where else would we have travelled from?—"
"You survived… how is that possible?" he asked, his voice lowering despite himself.
"And that injury…" He glanced at his companion, then at the bound figure behind Oren. "How is he still alive… and so composed?"
"The lord of the mountains, no crimson must be guiding this man!" He whispered to himself.
Oren smiled, but before he could speak, the taller guard cut in, his voice sharper, edged with restrained alarm.
"Look at him properly," he said. "There is nothing virtuous about this, you dare lower yourself, and compare this demon to such myths."
He steadied himself, though his grip tightened.
"That is no ordinary man. He binds an enlightened as a slave, stands unshaken with a mortal wound, and walks out of the fog."
His gaze hardened.
"Such things are not done by the living."
A faint, crooked smile touched Oren's lips.
As he spoke, the guards shivered and instinctively tightened their grips on their weapons.
"No, no… I am not a ghost. I am the Immortal Demon."
As he said the words, a faint rumble echoed from the gates. Then came a discreet yet undeniable scent.