The answer came instantly. Every man and woman near the clearing shouted as if they were one. Even the shivering drug addict was fired up. Only Arorox and a few other captives, like the woman, stayed silent.
Suddenly, the grey sky turned completely black. The whole world darkened, and with it the cheering ended, leaving the rain as the only sound that could be heard. Along with the cold rain, Arorox felt the blackness that concealed his sight. It felt strange and alien, yet also welcoming.
In the next moment, the entire darkness was drawn to a single point in the sky. Shortly after, a black lightning bolt struck the ground, but instead of dispersing on impact, it remained, slowly growing wider. When it finally stopped expanding, it looked more like a fissure in space itself. Arorox felt the same connection to it, as he had to the darkness.
"Move!" the King commanded.
The effect was immediate, the crowd snapped back into motion as if pulled by invisible strings. Soldiers closed in around the prisoners who stood in rigid lines and began driving them toward the fissure. Among the escorts walked a knight clad in white armor, a centurion, his presence rigid and imposing.
Just as the first row of prisoners was about to step into the darkness, the centurion raised his voice. It was rough and weathered: "Halt!"
Everything near the fissure froze. The pause lasted only a heartbeat. The King lifted his fist toward the old knight, and the silence shattered.
"Go!" he screamed. "Go through it!"
Row by row, the prisoners and soldiers crossed the threshold and vanished without a trace. As they disappeared, the King gave silent signals to the other white-armored knights. Soon, the procession became a flood. War machines, carriages, banners, and people were swallowed whole by the fissure, consumed by the endless black.
Then it was Arorox's wagon's turn. The drug addict trembled uncontrollably, but Arorox and the woman showed no hesitation. They pushed the carriage forward, dragging the addict with them as he futilely tried to pull away in the opposite direction.
Only now, grasping the seriousness of his fate, did he begin to scream, "Please, I don't want to die." No one listened.
The moment they entered the fissure, the world collapsed. Darkness devoured everything. There was no weight, no ground, no breath, no sound. It felt as though they were drowning in an infinite ocean, crushed by an unseen pressure.
Suddenly, they were hurled violently through nothingness, spinning, twisting, losing all sense of direction. With every passing moment, their speed increased, faster and faster.
'This hopelessness is as bitter as always.'
There was nothing Arorox could do, but cling to the pole and endure. His grip weakened, his lungs burned as they screamed for air, and his consciousness slipped further and further away. Then, without warning, it ended. The pressure vanished, and the silence shattered.
"Go, my warrior. Go forth. Go, conquer."
'This… this sweet voice. Is that you…?'
"My beloved," Arorox whispered, a flicker of recognition in his voice.
'No. No. No. I don't want to. I don't want to go through this again.'
As the darkness around him slowly dispersed, he began to feel his weight return. Air rushed back into his lungs, and with heavy, ragged breaths, he sank to the ground. Everything was spinning
When he looked to his right, he saw the lifeless body of the gaunt man. Beside it, kneeling, was the woman.
Looking around, Arorox saw soldiers helping others to their feet, barking orders as they worked.
"Move!"
"Stand up!"
"We don't have much time!"
Those who were able to move either cleared space by chopping down trees or began assembling prefabricated black walls. They were deep in the jungle, one that felt unnaturally silent. No rustling leaves. No animal cries.
The forest was also more colourful. Dark brown tree bark contrasted with deep green leaves and lianas, while everything else seemed touched by the same shade, the grass, the bushes, the moss.
'All this seems strange. I would have remembered such an anomaly. Tiremates eat everything they can get their teeth on. So why are only the animals missing and the vegetation still in its heyday? There is not even a single fly. Is it really nothing?'
"Stand up, scum!" barked a familiar voice, snapping him out of his thoughts. It was Lorum. Instead of offering help, he impatiently rested his hand on the hilt of his sword.
Needing no second threat, Arorox drew a deep breath and forced himself upward with a sudden jerk, fighting exhaustion and disorientation. The moment he and the woman were on their feet, Lorum ordered without even checking if the gaunt man was dead, "Follow me." The woman's usually furious expression looked even more threatening now. Fortunately, the man simply went laughingly ahead.
'It's strange. Why would she risk getting hurt, over a skinny drug addict?'
As Arorox pushed the carriage forward and the lifeless body began scraping along the ground, he tried to answer the question with no success.
Soon they reached an open space where wagons stood neatly arranged. With the woman's help, he pushed the carriage into a narrow gap. Lorum beckoned a familiar soldier over, and together they removed the chains from Arorox and the woman. Then they led them to the nearest figure clad in shining white armor.
Once there the knight tossed him a spyglass and commanded: "Get your rations and begin immediately scouting in the northeast. We need to find out, what the hell is going on?" His voice was young and dampened by the helm.
Now up close one could see that the plate armor didn't really have decorative elements. Only a subtle engraving, ran from his right shoulder down to his hand, etched in an inhuman language.
'Why would they allow someone so young to wear the white dragon? I don't recognize this voice, and I can't remember a young man with such a high military rank. Damm it'
Lorums face and voice carried a hint of despair, while saying: "But we haven't registered yet."
"Then tell me your names!", answered the knight annoyed.
While the woman answered calmly, the man sounded like he just ate something bitter:
"Lorum Folly."
"Kaffrine Folly."
The knight gave a brief nod. Before Arorox or the woman could give their names, he ordered, "Now go!"
But as they turned to leave, the already enraged woman screamed, "Wait! What about us? Why aren't our hours counted, but theirs are?" People around them cast her a brief look and immediately knew that a captive stood no chance against a centurion.
"I strongly recommend you calm yourself," the young man replied dismissively. "Besides, you would only be a waste of memory."
"That memory will be the only thing keeping you alive," she shot back. "So, I suggest you remember Mithranda…"
She stopped abruptly, grunting as pain seized her. Her face twisted in agony, her hands clenching into fists
"I thought I made myself clear," the knight said coldly. "I have no interest in speaking to you or remembering you. So, if you intend to live another day, shut up."
His final words rang out loud and commanding, ending Mithranda's misery.
Before she could recover, Lorum was already pushing her away, while Kaffrine followed, pulling Arorox along. It didn't take long for them to find the line for the rations. Kaffrine didn't hesitate. "Can you look after them?" she asked, already moving toward the front of the line before Lorum could respond, leaving him standing there, speechless and uncertain.
It didn't take long for her to return.
"And?" Lorum asked.
"What do you think, idiot?" Kaffrine replied in a humorous tone. "Of course I have everything in my backpack. We can go."
Laughing, she headed ahead. Lorum followed with Mithranda and Arorox. They walked to the end of the clearing, in the jungle. After a short walk through the ominous jungle, Kaffrine set the backpack down and pulled out a leather bottle and something wrapped in cloth.
"We all know something is wrong," she said. "There's vegetation everywhere, but no wildlife. On top of that, we've been given a deadly mission. So, I figure we should get to know each other, and I think we can do that better when we're on our own."
"What about the Tiremates?" Mithranda asked calmly.
"They're not that fast. We should be able to rest for a moment. In fact, it's probably safer in battle if we know what the others can do," Kaffrine replied.
Mithranda and Lorum nodded in understanding.
"What about you, quiet one? Agreed?" Kaffrine asked.
Arorox didn't answer. His stoic expression remained unchanged.
"I'll take that as a yes," Kaffrine said, passing the leather bottle to Mithranda, who drank from it greedily. She handed the cloth-wrapped bundle to Lorum.
As he unwrapped it, Kaffrine took off her helmet, revealing shoulder-length auburn hair and dark brown eyes. A barely visible birthmark marked the right side of her forehead.
"So, as all of you have heard my name is Kaffrine," she continued, while gesturing with her thumb on the great bow and broadsword: "My proficiency lies in long-distant-combat, to be exact I am best with my bow, but if needed I can also fight with my sword, "
While speaking she took a piece of the dried meat, motioning for the others to eat as well: "And this is my lovely husband, who often acts with his stomach instead of his brain. Please, don't ask how I fell for him."
Clearly offended, Lorum lifted his visor, "Hey! I'm not dumb."
Before he could complain any further, laughter cut him off.
"Hahahaha, my husband is the same. He acts with his heart instead of his brain," Mithranda said, laughing.
"Ah—right, I'll go next then," she added: "My name is Mithranda. I fight best with a sword and a self-made card deck, but as a prisoner I also learned hand-to-hand combat."
"A card deck?! Why…? How…?" Both Lorum and Kaffrine looked confused.
Mithranda replied, as if it were the most normal thing in the world: "I thought you knew. I have an affinity."
Their faces twisted in disbelief, eyes and mouths stretched wide. Their bodies went rigid. Even Arorox's usual stoic expression cracked in shock.
After a moment, Kaffrine was the first to break the silence: "Well, I am just happy that you didn't use it against us or tried to run away."
"Run? That wouldn't be possible," Mithranda replied: "If I killed you all here and went back, everyone would be suspicious of me, especially with my purple appearance and torn clothes. I'd need a disguise, but the only option would be your armor, which is clearly not my size. And if I decided to run deeper into the jungle, the Tiremates would eventually overrun me."
After a short pause, Mithranda added, "Besides, I don't even have a deck of cards."
Once again, she shocked everyone on how throughout she already thought about escaping.
After a while Mithranda asked seriously "Could you apologise, Lorum? If you don't, I fear it will be hard for us to work together."
"Why shou…," Lorum began, but stopped when his wife fixed him with a fearsome stare. With a deep sigh, he muttered: "I'm… sorry"
Before Mithranda could comment on how poor the apology was, Kaffrine cut in: "Can you introduce yourself next, Lorum? "
„Fine, name: Lorum, combat style: close combat with sword and great shield, but with the Tiremates as opponents. I will probably use the shield less," said Lorum, annoyed.
"Now for the last," said the Kaffrine.
'Should I? No, the fewer connections, the faster I die… but it's not like we are instantly friends, only from knowing how the other person fights. How do I fight? Back in the days, I would have said I can fight in every position perfectly, but at this age. Neither did I train my body on hand-to-hand combat, nor did I learn how to use a spear.'
Seeing him hesitate Mithranda opened her mouth, but Arorox spoke first: "My name is Arorox." Each word felt heavy and made him rethink his decision: "I am best with a sword. I have never learned hand to hand combat. So, I probably can't contribute much to a fight"
Mithranda asked: „What about the ocarina?" Arorox glanced down at it, unsure what to say.
"It's supposed to be a good luck charm," answered Lorum, while chewing. Mithranda cast a questionable look at him.
"His friend said so, when he visited him in liable," added Lorum.
After a brief pause Kaffrine asked: "Good now that we know of each other, any questions?"
"I have one," replied Arorox after a brief pause "Tell me, Mithranda. Why were you so angry about how the drug addict was treated? I don't think he's your friend or a part of your family?"
Mithranda thought for a moment before answering "You are right. I don't know who he is and I won't lie, I don't care either. It is not about who he is, but more about how people are treated once they are captives."
She continued, her voice hardening "We are treated worse than damaged objects. The only thing they care about is how fast we can be destroyed. It makes me furious."
"Oh, come on. We're not treating you that badly," said Lorum, annoyed.
"Really?" Mithranda replied: "What do you do then when an object doesn't run the way it should?"
Without waiting for an answer, she continued:
"You try to repair it, either on your own or you take it to someone who knows how."
She took a deep breath, her voice growing louder with each word:
"But when my whole stomach was slit open, blood gushing out in huge quantities. Do you know what the likes of you would do?"
She paused, letting the image sink in: "They would push me around, punch me and scream, for me to die already. They bet on how many punches it would take till I died."
A short, bitter chuckle escaped her. "No one won that bet. Not that night. Not any night after."
Then she looked at them, her voice low and threatening. "You're right. It's not that bad, compared to what I'll do when I get my revenge on the pieces of shit who threw me into prison for fun."