A young lady skirted by the riverside with her hands on her waist. She was a merry lady with silver eyes and silver hair. She wore a patchwork leather dress that did not go well with her looks, but she cared for it not.
She hummed as she went, skipping over patches of rock and grass. The mid-afternoon sun basked the lands and the river. But there was one place its light never touched.
The Vile Marsh loomed on the other side of the river with its thick mist and wet branching trees.
Only a fool would cross the river and enter the Vile Marsh. Those who did often never returned. The ones who did manage to return brought back with them stories of monsters beyond nature and the gods, lurking in the murky depths of the Vile waters.
Her brother was one such fool who never returned. Sickness and death swept through their village years back. He, alongside a few of his friends, dared to cross in vain hopes of seeking help. None were ever seen or heard from again.
It had been a few years since. Many a villager had mourned and moved on. She, however, was different. Every day she returned to the riverside where she bid him farewell, hoping that one day he would return.
She held onto his brother's promise that he would return and bring help for their ailing mother. But their mother had long passed, taken not by her sickness, but by her grief of losing her son.
Yet she hoped and she prayed. Merry as she was in her demeanor and mind, oftentimes the veil of sorrow would break through her facade.
Her eyes, though silver, were baggy. Her hair, though silver, was long and messy. Her hope was the only thing keeping her from joining their long-gone mother in the afterlife.
That hope had slowly faded over the months and years, a long time where most would have already broken. But she was not them and they were not her.
The river ran from the south and drained to the north. Most days it was calm and clear and subtle. Fishes and critters and creatures of many kinds and shapes often gleamed or surfaced from underneath its waters.
Waves seldom battered the riverside where she now stood. She began to sing as she looked around, her voice echoing into the Vile Forest. It was a song of sorrow and hope, a plea and a thanks, a scream of grief and joy.
As she sang her song and hummed her tune, a few small ripples in the river caught her attention. It was no croc that's for certain, those creatures were big, and their eyes often floated above the water as they approached
No, this one was either some kind of fish or a water worm.
The ripples drew closer and stopped just before reaching shore. The lady ended her song and walked nearer. Sitting on her feet, she leaned in close to see what creature had decided to visit her today.
A somewhat blank and slimy head emerged from the water's edge, greeting her with a wiggle.
"Hello there!" She greeted her guest, "You're a big water worm, aren't you?"
She moved her hand to pet the creature, ignoring the slimy texture of its skin. "You must be hungry!" The lady said as she dug into one of her pockets.
She pulled out a fistful of seeds and presented her palm to the water worm. The creature wriggled in excitement and dug in, consuming most of the seeds in a few short seconds.
"What brings you here?" The lady asked as she retrieved another batch of seeds from her pockets.
The water worm seemingly understood her, turning around to face the other direction. It nodded and pointed its head at the Vile Marsh.
The lady looked and her eyes narrowed.
"You came from the marsh?" She asked again.
The water worm nodded. Before she could inquire any further, a splash sounded from the other end of the riverbank.
This time, she was certain it was a croc approaching, a sizable one too.
"You should get out of water, Mr. Worm." The lady said as the croc approached. The water worm did not seem alarmed, nor did it care that a large predator was approaching from behind.
Without a moment of hesitation, the lady grabbed the water worm and pulled it away from the river. The water worm, seemingly confused, did not struggle as she did so.
The croc emerged from the river with a snarl followed by a long hiss. It stared at her as she clung tightly onto the water worm in her chest.
"Now, now," She said, eyeing the croc's eyes. "Back to the river you go! Mr. Worm is not a snack."
The croc's jaws opened, revealing its sharp teeth. However, it did so not out of an attempt to intimidate, but it was as if the predator was confused. It even titled its head.
The water worm didn't know who to focus on.
The awkward silence stretched out for a minute or so. The croc stared and the lady stared back, both adamant yet confused as to why any of this was happening.
"You're not here to eat him?" She said, ending the silence.
The croc snarled and shook its head.
"Oh... huh?" Now she was confused. Wild animals weren't supposed to understand human words. Then why was the croc and the water worm reacting as if they did?
She had questions, many questions. But she had to save them all for later. A more pressing matter had just made itself known.
Something within the Vile Marsh began to glow. It was golden in light, shimmering through the thick mist like a bonfire under a foggy day.
The light was moving within the mist, growing brighter and closer, and that terrified the lady. Her heart sank as a million dreadful possibilities assaulted her mind. Was this gonna be her end? Was a monster going to finally end her misery?
But no monster was ever said to be heralded by a golden light. That made her think.
Regardless, her instincts told her to run. Before she could do so, however, the source of the golden light walked out of the mist.
And her mouth went agape at what she saw.
A tall, muscled man with silky black hair stared at her with fierce,golden, and tired eyes. He wore only a strapping of leaves around his waist and groin, leaving the rest of his body to bare.
The man stared at her with those tired eyes and looked as if he had seen better days.
She found herself relating to the man's gaze. Never mind the chiseled abs and his bulging muscles, she had no time to fluster or lust.
She knew despair for she was wrought with it.
And the man in front of her was full of it.
-
Arcelius beheld the gleaming sun for the first time since he traversed the swampy marsh. It shone as bright as he remembered it in the middle of the pale blue sky. He welcomed its yellow light.
Two hours had passed since he left the abomination to rot and burn. Mr. Wormy was eager to get him to where he wanted to be. A village, he remembered saying.
Now he was standing at the edge of a narrow river. Its waters were clear and calm, flowing from the south to the north. It flanked the marsh and its mist, acting like a sort of barrier that kept the swampy marsh at bay.
On the other side was a sparse forest with patches of tall grass and bush between the groups of trees. It was a strange sight to see. Normally different biomes did not suddenly end and start, but maybe the river did serve as a sort of wall.
Ignoring the strangeness of nature, his eyes gazed at the person staring at him on the other side. It was a woman with silver hair and silver eyes. In her arms was Mr. Wormy and from the looks of it, she was holding onto him tightly.
Mr. Wormy didn't seem to mind.
Laying in front of them was Ms. Crock with jaws bear and head tilted.
Was she confused at something?
He had heard her singing as he approached the edge of the marsh. It was a sweet voice, yet it was rife with sorrow. A melody that was hard to ignore even if one had a heart made of stone.
Arcelius was more than glad to have found another person. Talking to animals was fun and all, but communicating with someone who could voice their thoughts was a hundred times better.
It was wise for him to have wrapped his privates with leaves. Walking out of the mist with his privates visible for all the world to see was not something he wanted to experience, especially since it turned out the first person he would meet was a woman.
He raised his hands and waved them as friendly as he could. Afterwards, he stepped into the river, rippling it as he went against the flow.
The woman stayed where she were and waited for Arcelius to stop by Ms. Crock before she spoke.
She didn't seem all that concerned at first glance, but her shoulders were tense and she was clinging to Mr. Wormy as if her life depended on it, or Mr. Wormy's.
"Who are you?" She said with a voice that was soft yet low, "And may I ask why you come before a maiden dressed only in loins made of leaf?"
She was young, Arcelius could tell, but her eyes were tired and baggy. She was also skinny, her skin sticking to her bones wherever it was visible.
"I must apologize, my lady, but I awoke this way," Arcelius explained, receiving a raised brow in turn. "Though this may be presumptuous of me, a stranger you know nothing about, may I ask for the hospitality of whatever village you hail from?"
The lady's eyes narrowed. She stared at Arcelius with suspicion.
"You ask for my village's hospitality, yet you haven't introduced yourself." The lady said coldly.
Arcelius nodded in acknowledgement. He wanted to introduce himself, but something from the back of his mind made him decide otherwise. His name carried weight in the Daigmun he knew, but the world now felt strange and alien.
It felt as if saying his name, at least his full name, would bring about dangers beyond what he could handle in his current state of weakness.
He had been feeling this way ever since he encountered the abomination.
"I am Arcelius, dear maiden." He refrained from declaring his titles though it took quite a bit of effort to hold himself back. His titles were something he was proud of, given and achieved. But he had failed in his last duty and a part of him whispered that he deserved none of it anymore.
The woman seemed to ponder for a while before she introduced herself in turn, "I am Rhea, daughter of Trea. I know my father not."
The way she spoke and acted reminded him of the nobles he encountered back during his time as emperor.
"How about you? Who are you the son of?" She asked.
"Same as you, dear maiden. I know my father nor mother not. I was born and abandoned long ago." He answered and it was the truth.
This seemed to ease Rhea, though he wondered why hearing of his neglect would put anyone at ease.
"Then we share some tragedy then," She said, "I'm guessing these creatures are yours?"
She pointed at Mr. Wormy and Ms. Crock with her gaze.
"They do not belong to me. But they have made themselves my companions, nonetheless."
Rhea gave him a simple smile before looking at Mr. Wormy.
"So he is your master? Or should I say, your friend?" She asked. Mr. Wormy nodded.
"And you as well?" She asked Ms. Crock.
Ms. Crock hissed, snarled, and spun to face Arcelius.
He didn't know she was fast like that.
"Well then," She said as she placed Mr. Wormy back to the ground. "Animals never lie and yours are clever. I will lead you to my village."
Arcelius was about to thank her when she suddenly raised her hand, "But you must swear upon whatever God you worship that you will do no harm to my village and people."
Her tone was serious and cold.
'Whatever God I worship? But there's only one God.' He thought. He was confused and offended by the claim that there were others besides his master who were considered god.
He did not let his offense be known and he swore before her anyway. Acting brashly would be a dumb move, especially since it was becoming more apparent just how different everything was from what he could still remember.
"I swear in the name of my patron, my master, and my one sole God, Ispios The Most High, that I will bring no harm to your village..." He trailed off, his eyes gazing at Rhea, "Unless such harm be done upon me first."