Arin jolted awake.
Hanase stumbled back first, relief crashing into her face before she grabbed him, arms tight, shaking as she cried into his shoulder.
"Hey—hey," Arin muttered, confused. "What happened?"
Neblaheim crossed his arms, scowling. "You idiot," he said flatly. "Why would you run off alone? What if there were monsters?"
Arin blinked. "…I'm sorry. How long was I out?"
"An hour," Hanase said, her voice muffled as she clung to him.
Arin gently pulled her back, wiping at her tears. "I'm fine. Stop crying."
Neblaheim answered by punching him in the shoulder. Hard.
"Then don't make us worry, dumbass."
Arin laughed weakly, stood, and frowned toward the forest edge.
"Let's move. I feel like someone's fighting nearby."
They emerged to find five adventurers locked in combat with a pack of vampires. Steel flashed. Fangs bared.
Arin stepped forward. "Need help?"
One of them grinned mid-swing. "Who wouldn't?"
They joined the fray. After a long, brutal struggle, the vampires fell one by one. Bodies dissolved into ash as the survivors regrouped by a river and set camp.
As weapons were cleaned and breath returned, one man spoke casually, staring into the water.
"Hey… you know the story of the Death God?"
Neblaheim nodded. "Yeah."
"It's got a song too, doesn't it?"
A few voices answered together. "It does."
The man cleared his throat, voice light, almost playful, like it was meant for coin and ale.
"Sleep now, king beneath the stone,
Sleep where even prayers don't roam."
Neblaheim followed without hesitation.
"Seven blades met endless night,
Death begged loud, then lost the fight."
Another joined in.
"Mercy cried, but none was due,
Fear was crowned, the world stood true."
The first man finished softly.
"Gods turned eyes and sealed the flame,
So death forgot its wretched name."
He chuckled. "Old song. Everyone knows it."
The river carried the last note away.
Arin's lips moved before he could stop them.
Barely a breath. Almost nothing.
"…That's a lie."
No one heard.
As the sun fell and the camp grew quiet, sleep took them one by one.
A figure beneath black stone.
A voice, low and weary, singing the same song.
Only… with verses that no longer existed.