Forest Clearing – Dawn
Golden light filtered through the canopy, painting the forest floor in shifting patterns of honey and shadow. Dot lay sprawled on the soft grass, his body heavy with unnatural sleep. The first warm rays brushed across his face like a lover's touch. His eyelids fluttered.
They opened.
Liora knelt over him, exactly as he remembered her—gentle smile curving her lips, flowing robes catching the breeze, and that familiar silver necklace glinting at her throat. She extended her hand, palm up, patient and inviting.
"Dot," she whispered, voice soft as morning mist. "Take my hand."
His breath caught sharply in his throat.
"Liora…?"
He reached out slowly, fingers trembling, half-expecting her to dissolve into mist the moment he touched her. But her skin was warm. Solid. Real.
She drew him up with gentle strength. He rose on unsteady legs, eyes wide with disbelief, heart hammering against his ribs.
"You're… alive?" His voice cracked like thin ice. "How—?"
She smiled, soft and teasing. "Were you planning to kill me off so soon?"
A shaky laugh escaped him as tears brimmed in his eyes. "You're really here."
---
They walked hand in hand through sun-dappled woods, leaves whispering secrets overhead. Liora's laughter rang bright and clear as Dot tried—and failed spectacularly—to skip stones across a sparkling stream. Water sprayed across his face. She leaned in close, wiping it away with the sleeve of her robe, grinning.
Later, they settled on a fallen log. She rested her head on his shoulder, her hair smelling of wildflowers and sunlight.
"When we get out of here," she murmured, "let's go to Valdheim. We'll find a small place to stay. You can do all the chores… and I'll do all the eating." She giggled, the sound like music.
Dot blinked. "Huh? Me?"
"Yes, you," she said warmly, nudging him.
He looked at her as though she were the only real thing left in the entire universe.
"I missed you," he said quietly.
"You're weird," she teased, but her voice was tender.
For the first time in what felt like forever, a small, genuine, unguarded smile crossed Dot's face. Peace settled over him like warm sunlight.
---
Then the mood shifted.
They stepped into a wide clearing ringed by ancient, watchful trees. Dot turned to her, words rising in his throat.
"Liora… I—"
Shadows detached from the forest edge. Dark-robed mages emerged, their faces carved from cold stone—Mage Martha, Mage Jeze, and others he recognized too well. They closed in, encircling him with silent menace.
Dot froze. "What—?"
Chains erupted from the ground like living serpents, snapping around his wrists and yanking him toward the center of the clearing. A rough wooden cross stood waiting, staked deep into the earth.
He struggled wildly. "Wait—wait! What are you doing?"
They hoisted him up. Nails bit viciously into his palms. A raw scream tore from his throat.
"Liora! Help me!"
She stood at the edge of the circle, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Kill the demon," she whispered.
Dot's head jerked up. "Demon…?"
The mages began to chant, low and relentless.
"Kill the demon. Kill the demon."
Liora's tears fell faster. "Kill him."
"I'm not a demon!" Dot's voice broke. "Liora—please!"
She stepped closer. The crying stopped.
A slow, cruel smile curled her lips.
The chanting swelled.
Dot's breathing turned ragged. Crimson flickered in his eyes like dying embers.
"Liora…?"
"Kill him," she said again, her voice now ice-cold.
In an instant, Dot vanished from the cross—and reappeared at her side.
His voice was pure ice. Eyes locked on hers. "Who the hell are you?"
She laughed—soft at first, then sharp and mocking.
The clearing darkened. The mages dissolved into drifting shadow. The wooden cross crumbled to dust. The world itself collapsed inward, swallowed by an endless black void.
Only a single wooden bench remained, floating in nothingness.
The creature wearing Liora's face walked to it calmly and sat down, legs crossed, hands folded neatly in her lap.
Dot stood before her, fists clenched, chest heaving.
"Tell me who you are," he said, voice low and lethal.
She tilted her head, still smiling that sweet, familiar smile.
"Who am I?" Her voice was still Liora's—soft, teasing, the way it used to be. "I'm Liora. Your dead girlfriend. The one you let slip away."
Dot lunged forward to seize her, but she evaporated like vapor.
She reappeared atop the bench, gazing down at him with wide, innocent eyes.
He stepped closer, fury radiating from every muscle. "I'll tear you apart with my bare hands."
"You really are fascinating."
The word hit him like a bucket of ice water.
*Fascinating.*
Something stirred violently in the dark recesses of his memory—fast, unwilling—and for half a second he was somewhere else.
The night Hidenhiem fell. The mage castle crumbling around them. Liora lying dead. The demon standing over him. And then—a hooded man stepping between them with unhurried precision, as if danger had never existed in his world. One hand touching the demon's hide. The creature exploding into black blood.
The man turning, face still hidden beneath the hood. His voice carried something that was neither quite amusement nor quite hunger—a nameless, ancient combination.
"Interesting."
Then, quieter, almost to himself as he turned away:
"Fascinating."
Dot's eyes snapped wide open.
The thing on the bench watched him arrive at the truth. Watched recognition flood his face. Watched understanding settle like poison in his veins.
"It's you," Dot said.
Not a shout. Barely above a whisper. The voice of someone who had run out of room for volume.
The smile on her face widened—slow, genuine in its terrible way. The first fully unmasked expression it had shown since the dream began.
"Long time no see." A pregnant beat, heavy with something ancient. "Demon."
---
Dot gasped awake on the grass, bolting upright, chest heaving violently.
Real trees. Real dawn light filtering through the leaves. Real companions.
Dren crouched nearby, methodically sharpening his blade with steady scrapes of whetstone on steel. Sylric leaned against a thick trunk, arms crossed. Yiva sat a few paces away, knees drawn up to her chest, watching him with quiet concern.
Dren glanced over. "You've been out since yesterday. The regeneration must've taken more out of you than usual."
Yiva spoke softly. "You were talking in your sleep."
Dot turned to Dren, voice hoarse. "I saw him in my dreams."
Dren's hand paused on the blade. "Who?"
Dot swallowed hard. "The Red Man."
Sylric and Yiva's eyes widened in unison, as though the name carried weight they had long dreaded hearing.
Sylric straightened. "Redman?"
---
**Aetherion – Abandoned Castle**
Deep within the ruined halls of an ancient castle, the mysterious man detached the last glowing tube from his arm. Viscous green liquid dripped onto the cracked stone floor.
He smiled thinly, almost fondly.
A woman in dark robes stepped forward. "How was it, Master?"
"Shorter than expected," he murmured. "The piece has made contact. Begin."
"Yes, Master."
He leaned back, eyes gleaming with quiet anticipation.
"Can't wait to see you again, boy."
To be continued.