The chill never got to him.
Aiden slipped across the cemetery like smoke, metal rustling low with every stride. Light from above crept over cracked markers and bare branches, drenching the ground in pale gray and deep dark. The air seemed hollow, yet never still - birds hooted beyond the hills, blades of turf tapped together in gusts, while miles away a lone dog cried toward the stars.
He heard every word yet stayed calm - somehow grounded through it all.
No tiredness weighed down his arms or legs. But no ache filled his chest either. Since he ordered himself to go, he kept going - simple as that.
He stopped by the fence. Part of the old wood gave way, opening up space to squeeze through. Through that break, a thin trail ran downhill, vanishing into open land dotted with trees. Way off in the distance, barely visible, light from the city held on at the edge of sight.
Aiden moved through the opening, then reached the trail.
[Ding.]
[Quest: Return to the Kingdom That Killed You – In Progress.]
Three-day walk from the capital - if you're healthy. For your shape now? Maybe two
He raised an eyebrow. "Undead gets a speed bonus. Good to know."
His boots cracked against the ground when he began moving. Night clung close, quiet and uncaring. With every stride, he left the burial site behind - not just the dirt mound where he'd opened his eyes - but also the town that dumped him out like trash.
Faces drifted into his mind, unexpected.
Kael. Seris. Holt.
Back then, hearing those names might've caused doubt, pain - perhaps a quiet wish it wasn't true. Today, everything felt sharp, real. Because they'd made their choice.
He passed away because of that decision.
They would, too.
He kept going till the graveyard hill turned into a shadowy bump behind. Down below, the trail slipped through patches of woods, where treetops tangled above, blocking bits of moon glow. Darkness pooled near the tree bases - dense, like it was paying attention.
Aiden let his fingers hang slack near the sword's grip.
He picked up their voices first, then spotted them moments later.
A faint shuffle… then footsteps snapping twigs, veering from the trail on his left. A gasp - short, shaky. Muttered words, half-suppressed.
One person made an effort - though it didn't work - to stay quiet.
He stopped. "You might as well come out. You're loud."
Silence.
Then, a voice, high and panicked. "D–Don't hurt me! I don't have anything!"
A shape staggered into view - just a kid, couldn't have been older than fourteen, built like a stick with oversized rags hanging off. Hair matted, face smeared with grime from who knows where. He dragged a tiny bag by one strap, gripping it tight as if someone might snatch it away.
He looked at Aiden's armor, then the sword - his eyes widened. "Huh."
Aiden studied him. "Relax. If I wanted you dead, you wouldn't have heard me."
That didn't help settle the kid one bit. His throat tightened, voice shaky. "Were you in the army?"
The silence sat heavy. Yet no one spoke.
One time, it was clear. A true protector of the realm. Guarding the throne without question.
Right then, he sported the emblem of those he aimed to wipe out while hauling a blade snatched off a dead body.
"Something like that," he said.
The kid moved side to side, stuck - like he couldn't decide whether to bolt or just stand there. "Uh... you going into town?"
Aiden glanced at the far-off glow, paused a moment. "Yeah."
The boy chewed his lip. "Then we're… going the same way."
"We?" Aiden asked. "Who's we?"
The kid paused - then tugged the bag up a bit. It squirmed. From within, a tiny annoyed cry slipped out.
Aiden stared. "You're traveling with… whatever that is?"
The boy let out a breath, then loosened the sack slightly - just wide enough for a small gray kitten to push through. Its fur was messy, eyes squinted like it didn't trust anything around. Staring at Aiden, it looked upset, somehow proud too, the way cats do when bothered.
The boy winced. "She wouldn't stay behind. And if my uncle finds her, he'll…" He trailed off, eyes dropping.
Aiden studied him briefly. His shoulders stayed stiff, body ready to run if things got rough - yet a defiant look lingered in his eyes.
"Name," Aiden said.
The kid opened his eyes again. "Wait?"
"Your name."
"Oh. Rowan." He swallowed. "You?"
"Aiden." He turned back to the road. "If you're going to the capital, keep up."
Rowan stared, dumbfounded. "You're… you're not going to rob me?"
Aiden looked at the little bag, then the torn shirt, then the tiny cat. Yet none of it seemed valuable enough to take. He figured there was nothing here anyone would want
Rowan flapped his lips like a fish, quick-stepping to catch up. The tiny cat, annoyed by the rush, dug itself further down into the bag - letting out an irritated squeak.
They moved quietly along the trail, weaving through trees and small bushes. Crickets chirped from the tall grass while a light wind skimmed by.
Rowan peeked at Aiden's ghostly skin, his still gaze. "You seem... off," he said quick, then tensed up right after. "Not awful or anything - just drained. Like you've been awake forever."
Aiden thought about it. "Close enough."
"You from around here?" Rowan asked.
"Once."
Rowan shifted the sack strap on his shoulder. "I'm from a village two valleys over. Well. I was. My uncle said there's work in the capital. For boys. Whatever that means." His mouth twisted. "He told me to go or starve. So here I am."
Aiden stayed quiet, letting things settle. Out past the wall, hardship showed up plenty. The city never struggled to act like none of that was real.
"Why the armor?" Rowan asked cautiously. "You don't… walk like the regular soldiers."
"How do they walk?"
"Like they own whatever they see." Rowan shrugged. "You walk like you're looking for something to kill."
Aiden almost smiled. "You're not entirely wrong."
The System sat there silent, buzzing just beside his thoughts - much like a hidden pulse he'd never felt. A steady undercurrent, almost alive, lingering without weight or sound.
[Observation: Companion detected.]
[Note: Living friends might share details or open doors you can't reach right now.]
It was almost amusing. "You want me to keep the boy?"
Call's yours. Right now it seems safe, might even help out
Rowan nudged a small rock from the trail. "Hey, Aiden... heading to your job now?"
"In a sense."
"What kind?"
"The kind that ends with certain people buried deeper than that graveyard back there."
Rowan stopped talking right then, his eyes opening a bit wider. Yet he didn't push for answers.
The woods opened up when daylight crept across the horizon. Stars vanished gradually, like someone lifting a blanket off their eyes. Far away, a wisp of smoke twisted upward.
Rowan squinted. "That's… an outpost, I think. Or a checkpoint. Traders pass through there before heading to the capital."
Aiden looked where he was staring. Rough wood walls stood ahead. A short tower loomed nearby. Something shifted up above - just a shadow, really. Most likely? Some tiny outpost on the edge, guarded by a few tired guys killing time.
Soldiers carrying identical crests across their taken gear.
"Do they check everyone?" he asked.
Rowan nodded. "Sometimes. Mostly they just harass folk who look poor or suspicious. No offense."
"None taken."
He eased off a bit, lost in thought. Showing up wearing shiny armor, looking like some ghost kid with cold eyes - yeah, that'd draw attention fast. Yet a kid on his own, tagged by a regular guard? Nah, nobody blinks at that.
He looked down at Rowan. "You said you're going to the capital to find work."
Rowan frowned. "Yeah?"
"Then for now," Aiden said, "I'm your escort. You walk in front. I walk behind. If they ask, I was ordered to make sure you reach the city."
Rowan stared. "Ordered by who?"
"Do you know many names with authority?"
Rowan hesitated. "There's… Captain Holt. People curse his name a lot."
Aiden's grip on his sword tightened slightly. "Then use his. Say he didn't want to waste troops escorting peasants, so he sent me alone."
"That sounds like him," Rowan muttered.
The idea obviously spooked him, yet he straightened up. "What's your reason for backing me?"
Walking in solo draws attention - too much noise. A regular tale about him works fine as cover. The city's simpler to reach when you're beside some innocent kid instead of drifting like a quiet shadow.
"Because you're going the same way," Aiden said. "And I could use someone who knows how these people think."
Rowan snorted. "I don't know how they think. I just know they don't think about us."
Aiden's mouth curled a little. "Stop right there."
They got close to the camp just when sunlight peeked through, washing the land in soft yellow. Guys wearing uneven gear slumped by the entrance, propped up on their spears, looking drowsy from routine.
A guy snapped upright after spotting Aiden's emblem and gear - his stance shifted right away.
"Soldier!" he called. "What's your unit?"
Rowan glanced at Aiden - fast, uneasy.
Aiden met the guard's gaze, dead eyes steady. "Detached from the 13th Company on Captain Holt's orders. Escorting a labor recruit to the capital."
The guy's eyebrows lifted when he heard the captain's name, yet suspicion faded from his expression. Nobody ever mentioned Holt without meaning it.
Rowan swallowed and lifted his chin. "My uncle sent me. I'm… I'm strong. I can work."
The guard barely looked at the kid, just motioned him forward with a noise. "Get moving now - city's short on workers again."
Hungry for hands. Craving bodies.
Aiden moved through the gate, sensing stares behind him.
When the outpost was out of sight and the path got wider, marked by heavy wheel tracks and a few folks passing through, he started making out the city's edge - high up, strong-looking, no gaps in it.
Somewhere within those walls, his murderers stayed - carrying on as if no crime took place.
"Nearly done," Rowan murmured under his breath.
Aiden nodded once.
"Yeah," he said quiet-like. "Close enough."