The air in my skull vibrated with the words, each one a hammer blow.
"You will never be strong enough!"
"Your own people hate you."
"Just give up. You are nothing."
"Everything around you dies. You are no good."
The accusatory voices echoed, indistinguishable from the screams and pleas of faces I recognized – loved ones, friends, strangers – all contorting in agony, their eyes fixed on me as they withered into dust at my feet. A cold dread clutched my chest.
"Please, no, I'm sorry," I choked out, the words thin and reedy.
A sudden, jarring pressure on my shoulders, shaking me. "Riku, wake up!" The voice was a desperate lifeline.
My vision swam, a kaleidoscope of dark shapes and light, until a face, sharp and clear, materialized inches from mine. Suzie's concerned eyes, her brow furrowed, blinked back at me. The nightmare's grip loosened, replaced by the faint scent of lamp oil and damp canvas. I'd been dreaming.
I lurched upright, my chest heaving, each breath a struggle against a crushing weight. The air rasped in my throat.
Suzie's hand found my shoulder, a steadying presence. "It's okay. Everything's going to be fine. Just breathe." Her voice, soft and reassuring, was a balm.
It took long, shuddering minutes for my breathing to even out, the panic slowly receding. Suzie simply sat beside me, her gaze patient, unwavering. She offered no further words, just her silent presence as the last vestiges of the dream faded.
"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked, her voice a quiet murmur.
"No." The word was flat, conclusive.
A faint sigh escaped Suzie's lips. Her shoulders seemed to slump ever so slightly, and her eyes, previously focused on me, now drifted towards the carriage wall.
A sharp crack, like a tree branch snapping, ripped through the morning stillness from outside. We exchanged a quick glance before scrambling out of the carriage.
Twenty yards ahead, a ragged line of figures blocked the dirt road. Roughly a dozen men, some with crude weapons, others with grins that promised trouble. The tallest among them, his frame wide and imposing, stepped forward. His voice, a low rumble that seemed to vibrate the very ground beneath our feet, carried easily. "This is where you stop. Leave the carriage and your valuables, maybe we'll let you leave in one piece." There was no pretense in his tone, just a chilling, casual threat.
Edward, standing a step behind us, nervously wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. His voice was barely a whisper. "I think it's better to listen to them."
My gaze locked on the tall bandit. I walked forward, each step deliberate, unhurried, until I stood barely five paces from him.
"I'm going to be merciful today," I said, my voice betraying none of the turmoil that had just gripped me. "I'll give you five seconds to run for your life." The air around me seemed to chill, a subtle shift that made the hairs on my arms prickle. It was a familiar coldness.
The bandit leader's eyes flickered, a faint tremor running through his broad shoulders, but he held his ground. "And what makes you think you can do anything?" he challenged, though his voice lacked its earlier certainty.
"Five."
His eyes widened a fraction. He took a hesitant step back.
"Four."
He stumbled, his feet struggling for purchase on the uneven ground, but caught himself before falling.
"Three."
"Guys, run!" he bellowed, his voice cracking with desperation.
"Two."
He bunched his muscles, his face contorting with effort, but his legs remained rooted, refusing to obey.
"One."
A slow smile stretched across my face, a grim satisfaction curling my lips as I savored the raw terror blooming in his eyes. I raised my hand. "From darkness you came," I murmured, the words barely audible, "and from light you will die."
A ripple passed through the air, unseen but undeniable. The bandits dropped, their bodies collapsing without a sound, like puppets whose strings had been cut. Their mounts, previously agitated, fell silent, sinking to the ground. The sudden absence of sound, the absolute stillness, was more chilling than any scream.
A wave of dizziness washed over me, the world tilting precariously. My knees felt weak, my vision blurring at the edges. *I didn't even consider how weak I've been,* I thought, the realization a dull ache behind my eyes. I turned and stumbled back towards the carriage, my legs heavy, and collapsed into my spot in the back. Edward's eyes were still wide, unblinking, his jaw slack. Suzie simply stared, her lips slightly parted, a look of profound awe transforming her features.
"Edward, come on, just move this carriage," I mumbled, my voice rough.
"Riku," Suzie finally managed, her voice a breathless whisper, "Where did you learn to do that?"
"The dream taught me a lot," I said, forcing the words out, "but it's like my body can't withstand it yet." My head was already throbbing.
Suzie's gaze lingered, a mix of wonder and concern in her eyes. "Go to sleep," she said gently. "By the time you wake up, we'll be at our destination."
I closed my eyes. The darkness was immediate, absolute, pulling me down into a welcome, dreamless oblivion.
"Riku, wake up, we are here." Suzie's voice, quiet and clear, cut through the darkness.
"I'm awake," I grumbled, pushing myself up even before my eyelids fluttered open. The blurry outline of the carriage interior gradually sharpened, details emerging from the haze. I stretched, limbs stiff, and pushed open the carriage door, stepping out into crisp air.
The town that greeted us was small, its buildings of rough-hewn stone and timber clustered together, smoke curling lazily from a few chimneys. The distant mountains loomed dark and jagged against the pale sky. It certainly wasn't Xynthopia. I swept my gaze over the sparse landscape, noting the worn paths and the almost palpable quiet. I turned to Suzie. "This doesn't look like Xynthopia."
She shifted her weight, avoiding my gaze for a moment. "You said you needed to get away, somewhere no one would think to look for you. I… I didn't want you to change your mind, so I lied." Her voice was soft, laced with a quiet apprehension.
I simply nodded, a tired sigh escaping me. "It's okay. I probably need to come here anyway." My gaze drifted to the distant mountains, a familiar weight settling in my chest. *In a few months, the Demon Queen will stir, unleashing her power, turning everything to her likeness. I have to push my body, my mana, beyond its limits before then.* I flexed my fingers, a silent resolve hardening my features.
I felt Suzie's eyes on me before she spoke. "Do you know what we're supposed to do now?"
"We need to find an apartment to rent."
"Why not an inn?" she asked, a hint of curiosity in her tone.
My gaze found hers. "Suzie, our stay here may not be temporary. It may become permanent."
Her expression softened, and she gave a slow, understanding nod.
A man strolled past us then, whistling a jaunty tune, a vibrant green pot plant cradled in his arms. A wide, easy smile stretched across his face, and something about his relaxed posture, his unburdened cheer, made me think he'd be helpful. I approached him, inquiring on a place we could possibly rent out a house.
His smile widened, revealing slightly yellowed teeth. "Oh, that's easy!" He pointed a finger towards a prominent building in the distance. "That's John & John. Just tell 'em what you want, and they'll hook you right up."
"Thank you so much," I said, and the words felt genuine.
We walked towards the building. Inside, the air hummed with a quiet efficiency, smelling faintly of fresh paint and new wood. Everything gleamed. A short line had formed at the reception desk, and I joined it.
When my turn came, the receptionist, a young woman with a meticulously tied bun, offered me the same bright, practiced smile she'd given everyone ahead of me. Her voice, a clear, almost singsong cadence, delivered the familiar greeting: "Hi, this is John & John, what type of house do you want?"
"I'd like a house close to the woods. Two bedrooms."
I watched as she checked for vacancies, silently praying there would be one available.
"You are in luck!" Her voice chirped with genuine enthusiasm. "Our Last Forest House fits your description perfectly! Would you like to buy or rent out?"
I pursed my lips, feigning a moment of deliberation. "Rent out for five months, please."
"That will be ten silver coins."
I hadn't even realized Suzie was standing right beside me until a small clink of metal drew my attention. She was already reaching into her pouch, producing the required coins. The receptionist took the payment, then handed me a heavy bunch of seven keys. Their weight was surprisingly solid in my palm.
"Just stand there," the receptionist instructed, pointing to a shimmering, ornate archway in the corner of the room. "You will be taken to your new home."
We stepped through the arch, the air crackling around us for a brief moment before settling. Our new home greeted us with silence. The thought of exploring, of unpacking, of doing anything at all, felt like an insurmountable mountain. The journey had left us drained, body and soul. We simply stumbled towards the nearest bed, collapsing onto its soft surface, leaving the world's demands for the promise of a new morning