The road was endless, and so was the silence.
Aelric's boots wore thin, his shoulders bent under a weight no one else could see. Each village, each town, he asked the same question:
"Do you know a way to bring back the dead?"
Answers came, sharp as blades, mocking as laughter, hollow as prayer.
A merchant, face red with drink, spat wine as he jeered. "Dig deeper, fool. Maybe the worms can spit your wife back out."
A charlatan in silk took his coin, promising sacred ashes that would call spirits. But when Aelric opened the jar, smoke stung his eyes and nothing rose.
A priest with a weary gaze offered only pity. "Son, the dead are gone. Let them rest. To chase them is to drown yourself."
But Aelric had already drowned. His lungs burned with every memory of Janne's voice, every flicker of Arran's small hand reaching.
He carried that weight forward, step after step.
Some mocked him to his face. Street boys called him "necromancer," their laughter ringing down alleyways until his hollow stare silenced them. Farmers turned their backs, muttering that he was cursed.
And then, one night by a roadside fire, an old traveler listened. His eyes were clouded, his face carved deep by grief.
"I lost them too," the man whispered when the story was done. "Lightning took my wife. My daughter. Just as it took yours."
Aelric leaned forward, desperate. "What did you do?"
The man stirred the fire. Sparks flared, died.
"I lived. That's all. I let them go."
The words cut deeper than knives.
Aelric sat in silence, staring at the flames until his vision blurred. Forget them? Move on? He could not. He would not.
He rose, jaw tight, and walked into the dark road without looking back.
I promise.
The vow beat in his chest like a second heart. His muscles ached, his face was raw, his gut twisted with hunger and grief. Yet he kept walking.
Whispers followed him across inns and markets:
"The North once knew magic."
"The rulers burned them out."
"No one remembers how or why."
But he did not chase whispers. He chased only the faces that lived in his blood.
His world was gone. His oath was all that remained.