Chapter 5

Dane watched her freeze.

She lingered, seemingly surprised, and asked.

"So…how can you see the dead? Why are you here?" she asked.

Dane swung at another log. "That has nothing to do with my anger."

"Maybe, but I thought I'd ease you into conversation first, get you to reveal more," she lied through her teeth, he could tell.

Dane scoffed. "You're a terrible liar. Whatever, I'll tell you."

He pondered for a moment, thinking about how to put it.

"I'm from a faraway land, so far away that you could say it's another world. That place was invaded," he paused, fire in his eyes.

"Nightmare Creatures, that's what we call them. They're corrupted to you. Millions of them came. They wore the skin of our people. They killed and ravaged everything in their sight. We would have been annihilated, but we weren't," he said. His swings were like thunder. The handle of the axe creaked.

"Something akin to a deity, unseen and incomprehensible, came to our aid, though now we know it had sent the corrupted to our land in the first place. It allows us to fend for ourselves, so we live with it. It gives us trials, sending us to faraway lands," he breathed heavily. "We are given hidden objectives and powers to solve these objectives. Doing so pleases it…so it grants us powers, making us Awakened. That is why I am here! And why I can see the dead!" he snarled, poison seeping through his words.

Jackal sucked in a cold breath.

"Is that why you're angry?" she asked softly.

"No," Dane said.

"Why then?" she coaxed gently.

"Someone close to me died…my doing."

Jackal opened her mouth to speak. Dane did not stop.

"…it wasn't my intention. It wasn't," he whispered. His eyes were wet, but his tears did not fall. Dane felt better. A week spent cursing himself hadn't brought him as much relief as telling her did.

"…that deity sent you here knowing you were grieving?" she asked.

Dane smirked in derision. "I don't know, but who cares? That thing has birthed Ascendents and Transcendents on a whim. What would my will matter?"

Jackal mouthed the word "Transcendents," shocked. She wanted to think his story was a lie, but the way he said it did not let her.

She remained silent. The sun eventually hid under the horizon.

The farmer returned from his house and felt around for the chopped wood, holding some of them. "It's cut well. Thank you, young man," he handed Dane three silver coins. Thankfully, it was too dark for him to notice the damage Dane had done to his stump.

Dane left the field and walked up the hill.

"It must be terrible, fighting those things," Jackal said.

"I don't know, I've never fought a real one," Dane told her.

"How do you know that you won't be afraid, freeze up, and run away when you do? I saw one when I was still living. The strength left my legs," she shared about herself.

Dane smiled. "That was a problem for us once. Even with our powers, the fright got to us."

"Once?" Jackal repeated. "How did your people get over the fear?"

"To fight them, who are evil and without hesitation, we had to prepare ourselves to face their evil. We found that humans can also reflect corrupted wickedness perfectly. So we rounded up traitors and deserters and murderers and worse, as wicked as they get. We kill them with our own hands and watch them die. So many times that the fear leaves us," his words were chilling, and his eyes harsh.

Jackal shivered.

"That…must be terrible. I'm sorry you had to go through that," she said.

Dane did not think they were hardships. A hint of pride appeared in his eyes.

"Why? I am serving the purpose of humanity and doing what is necessary for our survival and victory. It is my duty and the greatest honor."