Walking along a cobbled road, the tail of the civilian procession dwindled into the distance. The sun hung low — right above the jagged peaks of the Cradle — coloring the path forwards in a golden hue.
Near the back of the gathering, a young man could be found. Dark hair fell unevenly across his pale face as his eyes squinted at the annoying view. Corvin was not having it.
'Do people really deal with this thing all the time?! It's shining straight into my eyes!'
Deciding to save his vision, he focused on the landscape surrounding the road. It wasn't dead, but that was the strange part. Thin grass grew at the edges of the road, soil grey but not barren. Sparse trees stood at irregular intervals, and scarce leaves filled the white-barked branches. There was life, but something felt wrong.
Ahead, the road stretched. Ancient cobblestones were worn smooth from centuries of feet, and the procession itself moved in a loose formation. Farmers were at the center maintaining the cart of supplies, elders flanking Lyra — or trying to — a bit further, and guards located at the edges trying to look like they belonged.
The sky felt like it hung low, almost like a ceiling rather than a blue expanse. The air was still. To his left, flatlands. To his right, more. The only new experiences to be found were straight ahead, as the road gently wound up the looming mountain in the distance.
And of course, the ominous shapes that could be found on the horizon. There were five from what started around three. Over time they had been accumulating at the edge of his vision.
Just as he remembered, they were keeping pace parallel to the road. Either unable or not wanting to approach. Most were silhouettes against the backdrop, and he could make out jagged bodies from the smooth ones.
He didn't want to imagine what they looked like up close...
Corvin checked behind him. The city walls were already shrinking and based on the sun it had probably been about three hours. If the procession continued at the pace it had, it would take about twelve days to reach the temple.
'Do we have to reach the temple in a certain amount of time? Typically, we would take a break by now...'
As Corvin watched the pilgrimage in front, his mind wandered to how odd his Nightmare was. From what he'd heard, the First Nightmare had you fight some creature or complete tasks. It was a trial with a simple objective, then the Spell appraised you and powers were gifted.
The objective for him was pretty obvious, but the nature of how to do so was what was bothering him. He wasn't having to fight anything, wasn't having to hide from anything. It was almost... too easy.
'Yeah, right.'
Somewhere between the last step and his next, a new thought occurred to him. That the thirty people around him might not exist.
'I mean, I'm dreaming right? How does the Spell even design these trials?'
If he was dreaming, then everything around him wasn't real. Or... everything around him was real at some point and he was dreaming a real experience?
Corvin walked, stumped. As he watched an old woman favor her left hip, he decided he was utterly confused. As far as he could tell, everyone around him was as real as ever.
It didn't matter anyway.
What he did know was the landscape felt wrong, monsters were stalking him in the distance, the people here were both scared and sort of crazy, and a pretty girl was trying to sneak up on him from behind.
"Boo."
Lyra's face dropped.
"You knew."
Corvin watched as she appeared at his shoulder and provided a very polite smile.
"You're not as sneaky as you think you are."
She looked offended.
"Huh?! I'm very sneaky! It's the elders... listen, you can hear them calling for me right now."
A resigned voice could be heard from an exhausted elder further ahead. Corvin chuckled.
"Maybe you should stop trying to escape all the time. Who knows, maybe they'll let you go themselves for a while."
Lyra grinned.
"If they let me then there's no point."
Corvin glanced at her over his shoulder, then at the nearest elder watching them with visible disapproval. He hadn't followed though — something about the slump of his shoulders suggested this battle had been lost many times before.
"So, what did you find so interesting?"
She leaned forwards and studied him.
"That everyone else wants to avoid you and how you look so out of place."
Lyra's face lit up.
"Oh! And that funny look on your face when you ventured along the wall by yourself earlier."
Corvin averted his gaze to a very interesting spot of grass.
'Huh? She was watching me...?!'
"Well, I just had to think for a bit."
She elegantly raised an eyebrow.
"That thinking must've been quite the experience for your pained look."
Corvin turned his head at her.
"Maybe it was, maybe it wasn't. Thinking can be painful sometimes."
He turned back towards the people ahead. The procession was torn between a worried look for Lyra and trying to pretend Corvin wasn't there. However, some were ignoring him less than others.
"Why are they avoiding me so much anyway?"
She tilted her head.
"You don't know?"
Corvin scratched his eyebrow.
'It probably has to do with whoever this body was before me.'
"Not exactly. I know I'm definitely out of place compared to everyone else."
Lyra's emerald eyes looked him up and down, examining his patched tunic and worn trousers with a smile on her face.
"That could be one reason, but I don't think that's it."
She looked him in the eyes, then forwards.
"They probably feel a sense of guilt when they look at you, at least those who remember why."
Lyra suddenly pointed towards the very front of the procession.
"The Ritual Guide knows more than me, why don't you ask him? His name is Edren."
Corvin followed the direction of her finger.
"Alright, I guess I'll ask sometime."
'Damn it, I was hoping to avoid that zealous freak.'
For a moment they just walked. The cart creaked ahead. The shapes drifted on the horizon.
Corvin studied her for a moment out of the corner of his eye. She let him.
"What about you?"
Lyra met his gaze.
"What about me?"
He smiled sharply.
"Why do you actually keep trying to defy the elders?"
The cart hit a bump in the road and rattled loudly. Lyra placed a finger on her chin and innocently looked upwards.
"Because it's no fun if I leave quietly."
Corvin's smile softened and he decided not to pry any further.
"Fair enough. I know I wouldn't want anybody telling me what to do for twelve days straight."
Lyra leaned forwards again with her hands behind her back.
"Why twelve?"
He sighed.
"Because that's how long until we reach the temple. Based on the pace we're moving."
The corner of her mouth raised.
"Hm. The elders say it takes between ten and fourteen depending on the group... you're good at measuring things."
Lyra leaned back up and pulled a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Is that why you're all the way back here?"
Corvin considered this.
"It lets me keep an eye on everything."
He turned to her with a slight frown.
"Actually, why haven't we stopped yet? These boots are starting to hurt my feet..."
She giggled.
"We have to reach the temple in a certain amount of time, before the children attack the city."
Corvin coughed.
"Oh... I guess that's good reason then."
The sky at the edges was beginning to lose what little it had. The sun tracking west, the mountain's silhouette growing imperceptibly on the horizon — the Temple somewhere above it, still too far, but there.
Beside him, a girl who was walking to her death had chosen to walk with him instead of in the center where it was safe.