Struggling forward within the forest’s trees and thick loam, Abaden felt like he was almost fighting against himself as his tired bones, aching joints, and blistered feet screamed for a rest. There were limits to the human body, especially as he didn’t have any sort of strength, stamina, or healing ability.

His Longsight had been instrumental in his archery, making far away objects appear as if they were much closer. He’d built a good reputation for hitting his targets while hunting outside Bishal, which had brought him to the attention of Boss Aengus and his band of cutthroats. Abaden had listened to the giant’s boasts and signed on last year with the promise of leading his own band. With the thick forest coverage and countless trees, his gift wasn’t much help when his line of sight was no more than ten or twenty meters. Even worse, he couldn’t do much with it anyway since his bow was long gone, abandoned near the hideout and the bodies of his group where they’d likely ended up as food for that white-eyed demon.

Days and nights had passed, all blurred together as he lost track of time. He didn’t think a week had passed, maybe seven or eight days, but it was hard to tell within these shadowy woods. He’d long ago learned to ignore the pit within his gut, unfilled in the past few days as the creatures continued to dodge any of his thrown rocks or branches. It had been days since he last ate, though the random creeks and streams supplied him with enough water to keep him going as he sought out the trail.

If only the noises would stop, he could get some rest, but the constant drone of bugs and creatures had become his companions as he took one step after another. When his body would go no further, his bouts of sweet oblivion were too brief and sporadic to help much, and he’d inevitably be startled awake by some massive roar or the cry of some poor animal meeting its end. With fear powering him, he’d stumble back to his feet as he searched for the trail.

As he’d done countless times, he looked up within the dark shadows for any hint of light. It didn’t make much sense how the forest remained dark even during the day like the trees somehow always provided enough cover to keep him from seeing much. He had looked for the moon every night, just as he looked for Lackar’s bright light during the day, but no matter how dark it grew, only tiny pinpricks were revealed. Still, he’d used the most brilliant light to guide his direction, but he’d started to think something was wrong days ago. There was a feeling of familiarity with some parts of the forest, and he could have sworn he’d seen the same tree yesterday.

Heeheehee…

He whipped around, his eyes wide as he looked from tree to tree. It had been days since he heard the voice, but the strange echoes sent shivers down his spine as his heartbeat thudded loudly in his ears. His body cried in pain as he took in the area around him, but there was nothing – only trees, bushes, and dirt.

“Hello?” a voice said behind him.

Abaden whirled towards the sound, losing his balance as he moved too fast for his exhausted body to compensate, and he tumbled onto his side, crushing the moss-like growth near a tree root. Shredding the plants as he struggled to stand, he only fell again with a wet smack against the large root. Gasping in fear, he raised his head but then paused as he took in the man in darkened leather armor standing calmly a few meters away. With his shorter stature, he didn’t look like the white-eyed demon and was obviously a southerner with his dark hair and pale skin. He had a thick dark beard with a broad smile full of white teeth bright in contrast. With one hand lightly holding his helm and the other resting atop the pommel of his sheathed sword, he was the very image of a confident warrior.

“By the gods!” Abaden said but stopped as he took in gasping breaths to slow his racing heart. He clambered onto his sore knees while staring at the stranger, a tiny hope growing within his chest. “Who are you? What are you doing out here? Are there others nearby? We have to get away!”

The stranger only frowned as if confused and squatted down, his arms casually resting on his armored knees. He calmly looked around at the trees and plants with questioning eyebrows before returning his attention to Abaden. “Why do we have to get away?” the man said, his accent confirming that he was from lands south of the Alliance. “What is out here? What’s your name?” he asked as his smile returned, though there was little warmth in the expression.

“My name is Abaden,” he replied as his heart rate slowed, and he swallowed a few times before continuing. “I’m a guard from Bishal. I got lost here when bandits attacked my group days ago. I’ve been trying to get to the trail, but it disappeared.” Thoughts of his nightmarish time within the woods sent his heart thumping again, and he looked for the trail, but there were only more trees.

“Calm, Abaden. Calm now. Who attacked you? Where are your people?” The man’s voice was strangely soothing as he looked around again as if to confirm that there were no other people.

“Dead. They’re all dead,” Abaden said as he shook his head, thinking back to the attack. They’d been near the trail and should have been safe in their hideout, but the demon with its glowing white eyes had attacked them anyway. He shook off the memory and thought up a story near to reality. “We were using the back trail west of the Blood Boulders. We’d heard about bandits on other trails and tried to go around them.” He started to get up. “I have to go. I have to get back to the trail!” Standing and ignoring his protesting body, he looked around, unsure where to go. The southerner had to have come from the trail, but there weren’t any breaks in the trees.

Confused, Abaden turned back and bowed at the waist as if to a lower Gifted. It was a reasonably safe assumption that the armed man wasn’t any stronger and more likely only a Talent, but better to be safe. “Could I travel with you?” he asked. “Do you have a caravan nearby? I can be a guard until we make the next city.” He squared his shoulders and tried to stand up straight with some discipline, but his exhaustion made his effort laughable.

“My people?” the man asked with the same wide smile and gestured off to his left. “They’re just a bit over there. As to your plea, I’m going to decline your services at this time. While you look like you could use the help, we’re too busy to take on a wandering vagabond posing as a guard.” The southerner’s lip curled. “I came over here as I thought I saw some game since I do like a good hunt, but you’re not worth my time. You already insult me by thinking I wouldn’t know what a guard from Bishal would wear, so count yourself fortunate that I’m after a more valuable game.”

Abaden frowned in confusion, his suddenly ravenous stomach leaping for attention. “There’s game nearby? I haven’t eaten in days and can never seem to strike any of them. Perhaps you could share some food for a man in need? Surely the spirits would look kindly on such a gesture,” he asked.

The southerner stood, an angry look briefly flashing across his features before a tiny smile returned. “We all have our problems, vagabond, and yours are not mine. I’ve wasted enough time on you, but best of luck with surviving within the Eld,” he finished casually with a wave of his hand as if brushing off an annoying bug.

Realizing the man was about to abandon him, Abaden dropped, ignoring the sharp pain when his torn knees slapped the ground. He held up his hands as if to beg while keeping his eyes averted, as was proper. “Wait! Yes, I lied,” he pleaded. “I’m not a guard.” Hot tears streamed down his face, the green mossy ground blurring as he looked down. “Please, just take me with you. I don’t have any coins, but I’m good for it. I will swear an oath that I’ll serve you until I’ve paid my debt!”

He wanted to look up at the southerner to see if he’d moved the warrior, but Abaden dared not lift his eyes since he couldn’t risk offending him. At least he could see the man’s dark boots, and the southerner hadn’t left yet – that was a start.

“Oh really? You’d swear an oath to serve me if I helped you leave here? What would the wording be? Please, make it worth my time.” The voice had taken on another quality as if the man was well used to bargaining.

Taking this as permission, Abaden glanced briefly at the smile on the southerner's face before averting his eyes again, keeping far away from any eye contact. Deciding on what he did with Boss Aengus, he focused slightly off the side of the southerner’s chest as he spoke. “Are you going to Bishal? If so, I can promise to pay the value of three silver. I will pay it within two days of my safe return to Bishal.”

“Bishal? Ha! You think so little of your life and safety that you’d only offer three silver? As I said before, you’re not worth my time.” The southerner turned his back, already walking away.

“Wait!” he called as he thought hard about his final bargaining chip. “There’s a bounty placed by the Alliance. Galdish will pay for any information on the demon. I saw it! I saw Boruta, the Demon of Eld Forest. We can split the proceeds. It’s 100 silver for a verified eyewitness account!”

The southerner stopped and seemed to freeze in place, one foot still raised for his next stride. It was weird enough to make Abaden frown in confusion, but a moment later, the southerner relaxed again, turning to face him. The smile was back, though it seemed somehow wider, and something about the smile was wrong, like it was almost off-kilter. “What is this about the demon? When could you have seen Boruta?” he asked, the smile shifting into a frown again while his voice deepened with anger. “You already lied about being a guard for Bishal. Is this just more of the same?”

On his knees still, Abaden fell forward onto his hands, bowing his head to look at the green-carpeted forest floor. “I admit it. I lied. I was a guard for Bishal before, though only for the farms. They didn’t respect my ability enough, so I became an adventurer. Surely you don’t care that I took extra coins from a few unwary travelers, but I did see the demon! That’s what happened to my people: we ran into the demon on the trail.” His words trailed off as he thought of any way to sweeten the deal. “The demon broke the Accord! Think what the Alliance would pay for such news. We’d be rich!” His mind conjured visions of his future wealth and the life he’d build, far from that oafish lunatic Boss Aengus. He’d return to his old village and show those shits what a real man did with his life. Maybe Bes would look on him kindly again like she had all those years ago.

He was yanked back from his dreams as the southerner’s sizeable black leather boots stopped just in front of his kneeling form. He looked up again, holding his hands up, beseeching. “Just think!” he continued, shame burning in his chest at hearing his pleading words but pushed on anyway, desperate to leave these haunted woods. “You’d get a share, and all you have to do is get me to a city where I can bear sworn witness! I’d have to imagine that’s worth at least a gold for each of us!”

The southerner’s face turned serious. “How can you be sure you saw the demon? Anyone can say they saw something they believe was the demon. How can you be sure you saw him?”

“His eyes!” Abaden almost yelled with relief, happy to have an answer ready as it was a detail that had haunted his fitful dreams over the past few days. He’d never forget seeing that white energy staring at him. “His eyes were normal at first, but then they changed and became entirely white, and they glowed! We all know the tales of the demon’s glowing eyes!” He was sure that was the case and had heard it in all the stories himself. Sure, he’d heard that they were supposed to be red, but glowing eyes were glowing.

Suddenly aware of the silence, he looked up at the southerner. The man looked back with a big smile, but then his dark eyes started to change, and the smile shifted to an impossibly wide manic grin with far too many teeth. “No…” What came out was barely a whisper as the southerner’s vast aura crashed over him and his expression froze in terror. His body wouldn’t move, no matter how his mind screamed.

“I suppose I could have a snack since I’m already here,” the southerner said, but the words deepened as strange echoes reverberated within the woods while hot breath smelling of rotten eggs and death washed over the area. “Heeheehee.”