"They have... red eyes?"
Hill couldn't believe what he was hearing, especially because it was all coming to him so fast.
Firstly, he was somehow on a different planet, which meant the whole outer space ordeal had been real. Secondly, he was technically one of the alien invaders. Thirdly, Ashen — the girl menace in front of him — seemed to have some sort of superpower. Last but not least, there were native humans who apparently had red eyes just like him.
Never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined such a scenario. It was simply too bizarre.
"Stop talking and keep walking," Ashen said. "I will not answer anymore questions from you until we reach our destination."
Hill kept walking. He had no choice in the matter, seeing as the dagger was still in her hand and she had already demonstrated a willingness to use it.
The forest pressed in close on all sides. The purple-black trunks were enormous up close and wide enough that three people could stand side by side between the roots and still have room. Their massive size, combined with their vast numbers, caused Hill to feel awfully small and on edge.
Massive trees, darkness, and his lack of knowledge was a bad combination. Everything looked dangerous, and there was nothing that could convince him otherwise.
Well, besides Ashen's confident stride.
She walked forward at a constant pace, her footfalls confidently placed as she evaded every unseen hazard. Hill followed close behind, trying his very best to step on the ground she had already stepped on.
Whenever an unknown noise reached their ears, Ashen didn't react. They heard growls, branches snapping, hisses, and even the distant roar of some fearsome creature. Yet Ashen seemed indifferent to it all.
This behavior was a strange comfort to him, ignorant of the fact that she had held him at knife point moments earlier.
After walking for around forty minutes or so, the forest finally began to look different. It seemed brighter, as if the woods ahead were growing thinner, allowing sunlight to get through. Hill felt himself speeding up in anticipation, hoping to feel the warmth against his skin.
But as they broke out of the tree line, his heart dropped to his stomach.
The Krugenhold wasn't what he expected.
He wasn't sure what he had expected. Perhaps some ragged cluster of survivors huddled around a fire, maybe, but it certainly wasn't this.
The fortress sprawled across a wide clearing where the tree line had been pushed back entirely. The massive purple-barked trees had been chopped down and repurposed into the bones of something that resembled a functioning settlement. Walls formed from split timber and dried mud brick rose unevenly around the multitude of buildings inside. At every visible corner, a watchtower stood tall.
It was, by any reasonable measure, impressive.
But that wasn't what stopped Hill dead in his tracks.
It was the ceiling.
Without the canopy hanging overhead, what he expected to be a sky of some kind was instead a cavern ceiling. It was so far above that the stalactites hanging from it looked tiny, though he could tell they were massive structures. Tangled around those stalactites were vines which were clustered in glowing bunches of fruits that behaved like natural lanterns.
Their collective light was adequate enough to provide some resemblance to sunlight, but unlike the sun, their light held no warmth. The heat, which certainly was present, seemed to be coming from somewhere else.
He tilted his head back and stared for a long moment.
"Move," Ashen said.
He moved.
They were spotted well before they reached the front gate.
Within seconds, a squad of six had fanned out to meet them. They were dressed in the same rugged clothing as Ashen: patched fabric that looked like it was created by some lesser version of cotton, boots that looked cheap and uncomfortable, and trousers that were so poorly made that they looked like rags despite having a definitive shape.
Each one of them carried weapons of some kind, with two of them wielding long bows with arrows prepared for launch.
The arrows were pointed at Hill.
He raised both hands, not wanting to make the situation worse. The bloody hide wrap shifted dangerously around his waist.
The squad's leader, who was a broad-shouldered young woman with close-cropped hair, looked over him once and then fixed a menacing glare on his eyes.
"What's with the Yizruda?" She asked, the question clearly not directed towards him. "I didn't know you were capable of showing mercy. Usually you just kill them."
"He's not," Ashen replied. She stepped slightly in front of him, which Hill noted with some confusion since she had been holding a dagger to his throat less than an hour ago. "I think he's an earthling."
The reaction from the squad was surprising to say the least. Their eyes went wide with shock as gasps filled the air. The squad leader stepped forward, her face contorted in confusion.
"An earthling? Are you high? The last one came through four months ago, Ash. Besides, his eyes are red."
"I know what color his eyes are. I'm not blind."
"You know we don't get those eyes naturally—"
"I know that too." Ashen's voice went flat. "One, he speaks Peridian. Two, he's fucking weak as shit. So lower the bows, open the gate, and get him something to wear before he loses that wrap and makes everyone's evening significantly worse."
The leader glanced at Hill one more time and frowned. Then, with a look of defeat, she turned her back towards him and walked towards the Krugenhold.
"I guess you're trying to get him interrogated by Zeren?"
"Of course I am," Ashen spat in response.
"Alright. I'll let him know."
The bows came down.
Inside the gate, they gave him clothes. As expected, it was of the same make as the clothes they were wearing. He received a plain shirt that was too wide in the shoulders, a set of trousers that were a bit too short despite his small frame, as well as boots that fit surprisingly well.
Then they blindfolded him for some reason — to which he didn't dare object after feeling steel press against his neck — before leading him through some busy space. He heard muffled voices, ambient noises, and the smell of woodsmoke and something delicious.
His stomach contracted violently. After all, he hadn't smelled something like that in a long time. But before he could get a bigger whiff of the aroma, he was suddenly whisked indoors. The air changed noticeably, getting warmer and a tad bit damp.
A door opened, followed by footsteps entering the space.
Someone guided him forward by the arm and sat him down on a chair. Rope bound his arms and legs tightly.
Then the blindfold came off.
It took his eyes a few seconds to adjust.
He was in a large room that looked surprisingly civic. Rustic in nature, it had a high ceiling, a long table pushed to one side, and open floor space that looked like it was a gathering area of some sort. The walls were bare mud brick, but sported arched windows that allowed the glow of the ceiling to enter. Aside from that, a set of candles burned brightly in all four corners, casting everything in barely visible moving shadows
There was also five people.
The first one was impossible to miss. He was leaning against the table, and he was, without question, an incredibly handsome man. In fact, he was the most physically striking person Hill had ever seen. Tall, broad-shouldered, with blonde hair swept across a face that seemed perfectly constructed... he looked like he was born to be a model.
The armor he wore was quite strange, though. In fact, Hill had never seen anyone wear armor in his life, so the sight was a bit hard to get used to. The material of this particular set — which consisted of a cuirass and a skirt — had the visible texture of leather but a rich, oil-black color. The edges were lined with a gold material that ran along the seems in a dotted diamond pattern. Strapped to his hip was a lengthy ornate silver sheath.
He stood with his arms loosely crossed, his blue eyes focused on Hill.
To his left was an older man who shared enough of the young man's features to be an obvious relation. He had the same blue eyes but had gray hair and a wrinkled, droopy face. However, as he readjusted his stance, Hill noticed that his movements were rather fluid and youthful, totally betraying his looks. He wore a cloak that hugged his shoulders as if it were the remains of a monstrous bear-like creature, with lengthy black claws acting as epaulettes on his shoulders.
In the corner, seated on a wooden crate with her feet dangling and her hands folded neatly in her lap, was a toddler.
She was maybe three years old. Maybe less. She had the same blonde hair as the young man standing across the room, the same bone structure in miniature, and she was staring at Hill with an expression of total blankness that he found, for reasons he couldn't immediately name, deeply unsettling.
The fourth person he recognized: Ashen, who had moved to stand slightly apart from the group with her arms folded.
And leaning against the wall nearest the door with his ankles crossed and his hands in the front pocket of a hoodie that had no business being in this cavern, was someone Hill hadn't expected.
Mostly because he looked so out of place.
He was bronze-skinned, had strawberry-blonde hair that was mostly hidden under a beanie that was pushed back far enough to be decorative rather than functional, and sported a pair of dark sunglasses that sat low on his nose despite the fact that there was no sun.
His trousers were loose but fitted, and his boots were polished squeaky clean. If anything, this guy looked like he had been rich back on Earth.
He caught Hill looking and gave him a curt nod. "Nice boots," he said, glancing down at Hill's feet. "Good fit?"
Hill blinked. "Yeah, actually."
"Those were mine." He pushed the sunglasses up his nose. "Glad they fit someone."
"Thanks..." Hill muttered in reply. He glanced at Ashen. "So, what happens now?"
The older man spoke before she could. His voice sounding fittingly weathered, yet full of energy at the same time. "We will ask you some questions. We will act according to your answers as we see fit." He stepped forward, pushing off the table. "Do you understand?"
Hill gulped before nodding slowly.
The older man smiled. "Let's begin."