The silence that fell over the four of us was heavier and more suffocating than the dense fog of the Echoing Valley. I could smell blood and shattered sapwood, the rank stench of death still lingering in the air even though the bark-wolves had retreated. The warrior, Kael, was on his feet, his sword still clenched in his right hand. Blood still seeped from the wound on his left arm, soaking the leather, but he seemed to feel no pain. He just gave a sharp, definitive jerk of his head toward the
deeper woods. A wordless command.
"Go"
My throat was parched. I swallowed hard, my hand unconsciously tightening around the dictionary hidden in my tunic. I didn't know where we were going, but I knew one thing for certain:
"To stay here, in the middle of this battlefield, is a death sentence."
I glanced at Elara, the girl with the bow. She gave me a slight nod, a fragile gesture of reassurance amidst the chaos. I saw the exhaustion in her green eyes, but also an unyielding resolve. The boy, Finn, whom I had pulled from the wolf's jaws, was still trembling. He huddled behind Elara, his wide, frightened eyes fixed on me, a strange mixture of gratitude and terror.
To them, I was an outsider, an enigma. The book I carried, the words I spoke, were all foreign. I was an unknown variable in their harsh equation of survival.
Kael took the lead. Though his gait was marked by a slight limp of exhaustion, it was steady and full of purpose. He moved as if he were part of the forest, his eyes constantly scanning the colossal tree trunks, the thorny undergrowth, and the bottomless shadows. I tried to mimic him, to place my feet exactly where he had stepped, but quickly realized the futility of it. My steps were heavy, the sound of my leather boots seeming to echo through the quiet valley, while the other three moved as silently as ghosts.
We followed no discernible path. Instead, Kael seemed to be reading invisible signs that only he could see. He avoided a patch of mud that bubbled with a strange gas, skirted a cluster of mushrooms that emitted an eerie blue light, and quickened his pace as we passed through an area where the air grew unnaturally cold. I began to understand that the dangers in this valley were not limited to predatory creatures. The land itself was an enemy.
After a while, the "Echoes" began again. They were no longer the screams I had heard in my panic. This time, they were more subtle. A faint whisper from behind that sounded like my own name. The soft crying of a child that seemed to come from a nearby bush. I flinched, my heart pounding. I was about to turn back, but then I saw the reactions of my companions. Kael tightened his grip on his sword hilt, his jaw clenched. Elara placed a finger on her bowstring, her eyes narrowed in vigilance. Even Finn clapped his hands over his ears. They heard it too. This was not my private hallucination but a real phenomenon, a psychological trap the valley set for its intruders. The realization was both terrifying and, in a way, comforting. I was not alone in this madness.
Our journey continued in near-total silence, broken only by our footsteps, the whistling wind through the giant leaves, and the deceptive Echoes. I don't know how long we walked. In this sunless world, where the strange, diffuse light was ever-constant, time seemed to lose its meaning. I only knew that my muscles were screaming in protest, and hunger had begun to gnaw at my stomach.
Finally, Kael stopped before a wall of rock covered in moss and vines. I looked around, seeing nothing special. But then Kael pushed aside a thick curtain of vines, revealing a narrow, dark fissure. A cool, musty draft wafted out from within. A cave. Kael gestured for us to enter.
Elara and Finn ducked inside without hesitation, but I paused. The darkness of the cave promised safety from the prying eyes outside, yet it also stirred a fear of what might be lurking within. Seeing my hesitation, Elara poked her head back out, beckoning to me with a wave. Her gaze was gentle, as if she understood my apprehension. I took a deep breath and squeezed through the narrow opening.
The interior was more spacious than I had expected. It was a natural, dry cave with a high ceiling and a relatively flat floor. The dim light from outside was just enough for us to see our surroundings. The moment we stepped into the shelter, I felt the tension drain from Kael. He staggered to the far wall and slumped down, leaning his back against the stone. He closed his eyes, his face contorting in pain as he moved his injured arm.
Elara immediately knelt beside him. She said nothing, simply and silently pulling a roll of clean cloth and a small leather pouch from her bag. I watched as she carefully removed his pauldron and the tattered leather sleeve from Kael's arm. The bite from the bark-wolf was gruesome, the deep punctures from its fangs were red and swollen. Kael hissed through his teeth as Elara began to clean the wound with a cloth dampened with water from her canteen.
I stood there, feeling utterly useless and out of place. I wanted to help, but I didn't know how. I was a scholar, not a healer or a warrior. I watched Elara work with incredible focus. She took a green powder from the leather pouch and sprinkled it over Kael's wound. Then, she plucked several large, soft leaves from a vine growing near the cave entrance, warmed them gently over a small torch she had just lit until they softened, and carefully applied them over the powder. Finally, she bound the whole thing with a strip of clean cloth.
Throughout the process, Kael didn't utter a sound, only the muscles in his jaw twitched. When Elara was finished, he gave her a curt nod, a gruff thank you.
This was my chance. I decided that if I couldn't help with skills, I would help with resources. I sat down a short distance from them, carefully placed my dictionary beside me, and opened my pack of rations. The scent of honey-toasted bread and dried beef immediately filled the small space. I divided my portion into four equal parts.
I pushed one share toward Finn first. The boy stared at the piece of bread, then looked up at me, his eyes wide. He glanced at Elara as if for permission. Elara looked at me, her expression one of mild surprise, then she nodded to the boy. Instantly, Finn snatched the bread and devoured it as if he hadn't eaten in days.
Next, I pushed a share toward Elara. She smiled—the first genuine smile I had seen from her—and took it. "Takk," she said. I didn't understand the word, but I guessed it meant thank you.
Finally, I pushed the largest share toward Kael. The warrior opened his eyes, staring at the food, then at me. His gaze was still wary, suspicion etched deep within it. I could see him wrestling with himself. A stranger, a potential threat, was sharing his precious life source. In a world as harsh as this, such an act was not simple. After a long, silent moment, Kael slowly reached out and took the piece of dried meat. He said nothing, but the action spoke volumes more than words.
In return, Elara opened their bag. Their supplies looked far more meager. She took out a few gnarled, scorched-looking roots and a handful of dark purple berries. She offered me one of the roots and a few berries. "Spise," she said, pointing to her mouth. Eat.
I hesitated for a moment, looking at the unfamiliar root. Elara noticed, broke off a small piece of her own root, and ate it first to show me it was safe. I felt a strange warmth. I took a bite. The taste was slightly bitter, but it was starchy and filling, a valuable source of energy. The berries were surprisingly sweet. The meal was eaten in silence, but it was a different kind of silence. It was no longer heavy and oppressive, but more comfortable, filled with the small sounds of chewing and a quiet sense of sharing. We were no longer four separate individuals forced together, but starting to become a group.
After we ate, Elara's curiosity finally won out. She pointed at the book lying next to me. "Bok?" she asked, seeming to recall the word I had used earlier.
I nodded. I picked up the dictionary, gently brushed the dust from its leather cover, and carefully handed it to her. Her hands were calloused from her life as an archer, but she took the book with an almost reverent care. Kael, though still feigning indifference, shifted closer to get a better look. Even Finn stopped gnawing on his root, craning his neck to see.
Elara opened the first page. Her eyes widened in amazement at the sight of thousands of tiny, neatly printed characters on the off-white paper. She mumbled a few words in her language, then compared them to the strange symbols beside them. She pointed to a rock at her feet. "Stein," she said.
I understood immediately. I quickly flipped to the 'S' section. I scanned the words until I found "Stone." I pointed to the word, then to the rock.
A spark of understanding lit up Elara's eyes. She pointed to the small trickle of water seeping from a crack in the rock. "Vann."
I flipped through the book. "Water." I pointed to the word.
Kael, who had been watching silently, suddenly pointed to the small flame of Elara's torch. His voice was deep and raspy. "Eld."
"Fire," I replied, quickly finding the corresponding word.
An impromptu language lesson began just like that, in the dim light of a cave in the middle of a deadly valley. They showed me the most basic words. Elara pointed to her bow: "Bue." Kael pointed to his sword: "Sverd." They gestured to the imaginary wolves outside: "Ulv." And they pointed to themselves. "Kael." "Elara." "Finn." I repeated my own name, pointing to my chest. "Notug." They repeated my name, the pronunciation still awkward, but it was a massive step.
Elara's excitement grew. She was like a child with a new toy. She turned page after page, engrossed in the definitions and small illustrations. But Kael was more practical. He took the book from Elara, his expression serious. He turned the pages more purposefully, then stopped on one. He pointed to a word.
I looked. It was the word "Fare." Danger. Kael pointed to the word, then made a sweeping gesture that encompassed the entire forest outside. The message was clear. This whole valley is dangerous.
I nodded to show I understood. Then, a thought sparked in my mind. My goal. I had to ask them about it. I carefully took the book back. I knew this could be a sensitive question, but I had to try. I searched through the book. First, I found the word "Tower." I showed it to them. "Tårn," Elara read, then looked at Kael in confusion.
I searched again. I found the word "Light." I pointed to it, then to the torch. "Lys," Kael said, his voice laced with suspicion.
Finally, I placed two fingers on both words at the same time: "Tower" and "Light." The Lighthouse.
Instantly, the atmosphere in the cave changed. The curious smile vanished from Elara's lips. Her face became tense, worried. She glanced at Kael, whose expression was even worse. His initial wariness had returned, but this time it was more intense, mixed with something that looked like horror. He stared at me, his eyes narrowed as if trying to see into my very soul.
Kael shook his head definitively, a sharp, non-negotiable gesture. He spoke a long string of words in his language, his tone harsh and urgent. I didn't understand a single word, but I understood the message from his body language. Forget it. Don't go there. That is death.
Elara placed a hand on Kael's shoulder, seemingly to calm him. Then she turned to me. She also shook her head, but more gently. She raised her hand, gesturing toward a place very, very far away. Then she drew a complex spiral in the air, and finished by making a throat-slitting gesture. Far. Dangerous. Deadly.
A chill ran down my spine that had nothing to do with the cave air. The Lighthouse was not just a distant goal; it was a taboo, a source of fear for these people. Why? It was supposed to be the last bastion, a beacon of hope in a dying world. Why did they react like this? The mystery of my destination deepened. I decided not to press the issue. Not for now. I nodded slowly, putting the book away, trying to show that I would drop the subject.
An awkward silence fell over us again. To break it, Elara pointed outside, where the light seemed to have dimmed slightly, and made a sleeping gesture. It was time to rest. We needed to conserve our strength for tomorrow.
We extinguished the torch to save it, leaving only a small fire flickering at the mouth of the cave, just enough to provide warmth and ward off curious creatures. Kael took the first watch. He sat leaning against the rock wall near the entrance, his sword laid across his lap, his eyes fixed on the darkness outside. Elara and Finn curled up together in the deepest part of the cave, quickly falling into an exhausted sleep.
I couldn't sleep. I lay there, listening to the crackling fire and the steady breathing of the other two. I thought about Kael and Elara's reaction. What secret did the Lighthouse hold that terrified them so? I thought about the journey ahead, about the unknown dangers.
After a long while, I saw Kael's head begin to nod. His wound and exhaustion were finally winning against his iron will. I sat up. I didn't want to wake Elara. I quietly approached Kael. The warrior's eyes snapped open instantly, his hand tightening on his sword. His vigilance was frightening.
I held up my hands to show I meant no harm. I pointed to Kael, then to Elara's sleeping form, and finally to myself, making a guarding motion. Let me. You rest.
Kael stared at me for a long moment. He was weighing his options. Trusting a stranger with the lives of his group was a huge gamble. But his body was screaming for rest. Finally, slowly, he nodded. He handed me an unlit torch and a flint. "Ulv," he said, pointing into the darkness and baring his teeth. Wolves. "Se," he continued, pointing to his eyes. Watch.
I nodded. I understood. Watch for the wolves.
Kael staggered to his feet, moved further inside, and sat down not far from Elara and Finn, his back still against the wall so he could act instantly. But within minutes, his breathing became deep and regular.I sat down in Kael's spot, feeling the residual warmth from the stone the warrior had leaned against. I tended to the fire, tossing in a few more dry twigs. The flames flared up, pushing the darkness back a few more feet. I was the watchman now. The responsibility was heavy. The lives of three people depended on my alertness.
I looked out into the night. The forest was not asleep. It was alive with countless sounds. The chirping of insects, the snap of a branch somewhere in the distance, the wind howling through rock crevices like a mournful wail. Occasionally, I saw pairs of red eyes glinting in the darkness, at a safe distance. The bark-wolves were still there, watching, waiting. But they feared the fire. This small flame was our only shield.
In the quiet of my watch, my mind began to wander. I thought of my own world, of my organization, my friends, the monsters there. That place now felt as distant as a dream. I looked at the three sleeping figures. Kael, the hardened warrior who had accepted my help. Finn, the boy whose life I had saved. And Elara, who had smiled at me, who had shared her knowledge and her food, who was the bridge between me and this strange world.
A strange feeling stirred within me. It wasn't just relief at having found companions. It was a sense of connection, a bond forged not with words, but with acts of survival, with a shared meal, with reluctantly given trust. I didn't know where they were going, I didn't know what awaited us. But in this moment, standing guard for my new companions, I no longer felt completely alone. I had become part of something.
Time passed. I kept the fire steady, my eyes never leaving the darkness. My watch passed peacefully. When I felt the light outside seem to change, to brighten just a fraction, Elara was awake. She came to me silently and placed a hand on my shoulder."Min tur," she whispered. My turn.
She took the watch, and I, exhausted, curled up near the fire and fell asleep instantly.
When I woke up, the other three were already awake. A faint, pleasant smell filled the air. Elara was roasting the last of the roots over the fire. Kael was checking his wound. The bandage was still clean, and it seemed Elara's green powder was working. Finn was sitting beside Elara, curiously watching the flames.
Kael looked at me. He gave a short nod. It wasn't friendly, but it was no longer hostile. It was an acknowledgment. You did well.
Elara smiled at me. "God morgen," she said. Good morning. She handed me a hot, roasted root.
We ate our breakfast in silence, but again, it was a comfortable silence. A day had passed. We had survived. A fragile trust had been built.
After eating, Kael stood up. He put on his pauldron, strapped his sword to his hip. He walked to the mouth of the cave and looked outside for a long time. Then he turned back, looking at the group. His gaze swept over Elara, Finn, and finally rested on me.
He said nothing. He just raised his hand and pointed in a direction deeper into the valley, toward the faint, mist-shrouded peaks. A new direction. A new journey.
I stood up, brushed myself off, and slung my pack over my shoulder. I didn't know where Kael was leading us. Maybe to their village, or a safer shelter. I also didn't know if I should follow them or continue searching for the Lighthouse on my own. But looking at the three of them, at Kael, my reluctant guide, Elara, my curious companion, and Finn, the boy indebted to me, I knew I couldn't leave. Not yet.
My journey had changed. It was no longer a solitary quest. I stepped out of the cave, following Kael into the uncertain mists of the Echoing Valley. I was still a stranger, but I was no longer alone. And in this world, that was all that mattered.