A Long, Long Journay: The rise of the fallen

Pandora exists at the crossroads of the material and spirit realms, acting as the last barrier between the forces of creation and the abyssal void of destruction. This is a world brimming with magic, home to beings both formidable and extraordinary. Filled with many nations, cities and villages, where magic blooms and beautiful forests and jungles that are home to all the beautiful creatures that live there, are spread across the world. Among all the nations that Runterra houses, an earthly paradise existes… Etharia.

Etharia is a vast archipelago known as the First Lands, surrounded by dangerous seas. Its many provinces are united, shaped by a culture that values balance in all things. The boundary between the material and spirit worlds is thinner here, especially in its wild forests and mountains. Magic is everywhere—woven into the land, its people, and its history. Life in Etharia is all about maintaining harmony between its diverse races and ancient habitats, though much of it remains unexplored.

Buried deep in Etharia's Land between the mountains and the hills, at the footholds of a misty mountain, there is a small peaceful village with approximately hundred people. Tevasa is located in the northern part of Barhl island. Surrounded by lush forests and flowing streams, its wooden homes blend harmoniously with nature. Lantern-lit paths wind through the settlement, where villagers live in quiet harmony. The air is filled with the scent of cherry blossoms and the distant hum of wind chimes. 

In this small settlement, there is a house, isolated from the other, where a boy lives alone.

Under the evening sky stood a home unlike any other, a perfect blend of nature and craftsmanship. Its dark, smooth roof curved gracefully, with its highest point spiraling upward like twisted wood reaching for the sky. Thin, branch-like posts supported the structure, merging seamlessly into the walls as if the house had grown straight from the earth. The door was formed by intertwined roots, woven together like a piece of nature's art. Wide, time-worn steps led up to a deck that seemed to hum with old magic, carrying whispers of forgotten stories. It weren't a spot of just rock and wood—it was living, buzzing with soft force, waiting for them who dared to walk in.

A young guy stood under the tall trees, his hold strong around the old handle of the axe. His light shirt, marked with sweat and dirt, stuck to his thin, fit body, sleeves rolled up to his elbows showing arms marked with soft scars—signs of tough work. His dark messy hair hung a bit over his keen eyes which looked at the log ahead him with calm purpose.

With a big breath, he lifted the axe up high, the metal edge shining under the spotted sunlight. His position was strong,͏ feet set firm on the ground, muscles tensed like a pulled bow. Then with a quick breath out; he swung. The blade sliced through air in one smooth move; splitting wood with a pleasing crack. His fellow villagers call him Reynar.

It's been four years since he lost his grandparents, and now he lives alone in this isolated house. 

Every day follows the same rhythm. As a lumberjack, he rises at 5:00 a.m., shaking off the sleep before preparing a simple breakfast. The forest around him is silent, the air crisp with the early morning chill. Stepping outside, he grips his axe and gets to work. Each swing is steady and precise, splitting logs with practiced ease. The sound of wood cracking fills the air as he moves through his task, stacking firewood for later. By noon, he sets the axe aside and heads inside for his main meal. Afternoons are for sharpening both mind and body—reading old books, soaking up knowledge, then training with his sword. Each motion is deliberate, each strike calculated. As the sun dips low, he gathers the chopped wood and walks down to the village to sell it, his work sustaining his quiet existence. By night, exhaustion takes over. A simple dinner, a moment by the fire, then rest. And when morning comes, he does it all over again. 

But.. something was different today.

Instead of waiting until the afternoon to sell his wood, as he usually did, he chose to head out early in the morning. His warehouse was overflowing, leaving hardly any space for more, and the sight of the packed stacks motivated him to alter his routine.

With practiced efficiency, he loaded his cart, carefully securing each bundle before grasping the worn wooden handle. The crisp morning air was filled with the scent of fresh timber as he stepped onto the familiar dirt path that led to the village market. Today felt different, though he couldn't understand why. 

Following the familiar path into the heart of the village, Reynar finally reached the bustling market. Even though he lived in isolation, the villagers recognized him well, always greeting him warmly. 

At every corner, someone called out to him. 

"Good morning, Rey! How are you, my boy?" an elderly man shouted from his usual spot by the fruit stand. "You're here quite early today. What's the occasion?" 

Reynar smiled, adjusting his grip on the cart. "Good morning, Mr. Carl. I'm doing well, thank you. As for the time… my warehouse was simply overflowing. Thought I'd clear some space." 

Mr. Carl chuckled. "That makes sense. Well, I hope you have a good day and even better business!" 

"Thank you, Mr. Carl. You have a good day too," Reynar replied before moving on. 

His destination was the only wood-selling stall in the village, where a familiar face awaited him. Daric, a reliable and honest trader, had been Reynar's buyer since he first took up lumberjacking four years ago.

As Reynar pulled his cart up to the stall, Daric looked up from his work, a grin spreading across his weathered face. In his late forties, Daric had broad shoulders and calloused hands that bore the marks of years spent in hard labor.

"Well, well! Look who decided to show up early for once," Daric teased, wiping his hands on his apron as he stepped closer. "What's the rush, lad? Running out of space in that little hideaway of yours?"

Reynar chuckled as he began unloading the wood. "Something like that. My warehouse was getting too full, so I thought I'd get ahead of things. I figured you wouldn't mind a morning delivery."

Daric let out a hearty laugh. "Not at all! In fact, you're just in time. Orders have been piling up, and I could use some fresh stock. Let's see what you've got."

He ran a practiced eye over the stacked logs, inspecting their quality as he always did. With a satisfied nod, he clapped Reynar on the shoulder. "As solid as ever. You never disappoint, Rey."

Reynar smirked. "Wouldn't dream of it."

Daric gestured toward the back of the stall, where payments were handled. "I'll get your coin. Same rate as usual, unless you feel like haggling today?"

Reynar leaned against his cart, arms crossed. "You tell me, Daric. With all those orders piling up, sounds like my wood is in high demand."

Daric let out a dramatic groan. "Bah! You drive a hard bargain, lad. Alright, alright. A little extra for the early delivery. But don't let it go to your head."

Reynar grinned as Daric handed him the payment. "Wouldn't dream of it," he said again, tucking the pouch into his pocket.

"Stay for a drink?" Daric offered, nodding toward a small jug of ale by the stall.

Reynar hesitated, glancing at the bustling market around him. "Maybe next time. Got a few things to take care of today."

Daric shrugged. "Fair enough. But don't go disappearing into those woods of yours for too long. The village might start thinking you're some kind of forest spirit."

Reynar laughed as he turned to leave. "I'll keep that in mind."

Having done his work in the market, he began to head back. It was noon already, and so he returned home to eat. Reynar had a clear sight of the market as the sun beat directly into the air at midday, warming the slope and illuminating the village in gold. His now-vacant cart rattled along more smoothly on the dirt path to home. He could no longer hear the sounds of the busy market, the haggling and low hum of their negotiations, but only the chirps and flaps of flying creatures and leaves rustling nearby. He realized how his belly growled him that he had not had his breakfast, that he had left early in the morning. "Guess it's about time for lunch," he said to himself with a dry laugh.

Even though his house was very far and isolated from the village as he had to travel this long distance every day, Reynar never complained. Every time he returned, he thought about the countless conversations he had with his grandfather about how far they lived from the village and how tiring the distance was. Now it seems like a simple walk to him. Arriving at his house, he leaves the now empty cart in the shed where horses used to stay there, and taking a deep breath of the fresh air, he goes inside to eat launch.

Entering the house, it appears to be the middle part. A cozy room with a crackling stone fireplace casting dancing shadows on the wood beams and wooden walls. A red striped carpet covers the floor, and the dark brown leather chairs accompany it. A vase of fresh flowers on a low wooden table. To the left, a staircase winds up to a second floor lined with books, illuminated by golden lanterns and a wrought-iron chandelier. Arched windows are big and allow a glimpse from the outside. Hung over the mantel is a painting of an autumn scene, a splash of color. Wooden chests and baskets on the stairs provide a lived-in atmosphere

Reynar as he comes in heads straight for the kitchen. The smell of freshly baked bread fills the air. Jars and pots and pans are kept in wooden cabinets, and large rustic table is in the middle of the room. Fresh herbs and vegetables are piled up in a tidy stack on the counter, next to a wooden cutting board. Deep sink next to the window has a view of the ground outside. Mugs, bowls, and homemade jam fill shelves against walls in a cozy, lived-in space.

There was leftover mushroom soup from yesterday. Reynar graps a bowl and fills it with soup and sits down at the table to eat. 

He stirs the soup, the warm rich aroma. He scoops some up and gazes out the window as the spring breeze whistles through the trees. He sits in quiet enjoyment to eat his dinner.

Half an hour later, after slowly finishing his meal, Reynar leans back, ready to take a nap. (Someone should remind him that he has a bed upstairs, or at least a sofa in the living room.)

The hours passed, and the quiet that filled the houses was a kind of comfort for Reynar. But the stillness broke when, as he slowly woke from his sleep, he remembered that he had run out of wood. With a flip, he leaped off the chair and ran to prepare the cart. His hands moved quickly, gathering the scattered tools and placing them in the cart with a sense of urgency. The silence that had once soothed him now felt like a reminder of everything he needed to do.

Fully prepared, Rey set off toward the forest near the waterfall, his pace quickening with every step. The weight of the task ahead still hung in his mind, but the tranquility of the trees promised a momentary escape from his thoughts. With the cart firmly in tow, he steeled himself for the challenges that lay ahead.

The sun was setting, casting a soft orange glow over the forest. Reynar moved quickly, his usual careful work with the trees now driven by the need to finish before nightfall. He hated rushing, but he knew what came when the monsters appeared.

"I wish I had more time to research," he muttered, wiping his brow. "But I'd rather not be here when the night creatures come out."

Two hours passed by.

His cart was nearly full. Just as he was about to head back, he walked to the river near the waterfall. He knelt by the water, drinking deeply and letting the coolness wash over him.

Then, something caught his eye.

A body, laying motionless on the other side of the river.

"What the hell?"

He wasted no time. Reynar dove into the water, swimming fast to reach the other side. As he neared, he saw it was a woman. Lying face down, her white hair matted, her black clothes torn. Bruises marked her pale skin. Her breathing was shallow.

"Hey! Miss?" he called, gently shaking her. There was no response.

Reynar's chest tightened. She was unconscious, vulnerable, and alone. "I can't leave her here. she will became food for monsters if they find her."

His mind raced. He had no idea who she was or what had happened, but he couldn't risk leaving her behind. Carefully, he lifted her into his arms, the weight of her fragile form making his movements cautious. Time was running out.

The creatures would be coming soon. Reynar carefully placed the woman on the cart and started pushing it toward his house. The air grew heavier, the forest darkening with every step.

He moved quickly, knowing the night was closing in, and the creatures would soon be out. There was no time to waste.

Finally, night fell, and Reynar made it home. With swift movements, he laid the woman on his sofa, making sure she was comfortable.

He quickly lit the fireplace using the fresh wood he had collected earlier, the crackling flames warming the room. Then, he moved to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

Bread and honey would do for the night.

Reynar shaped the dough, working with practiced hands. After a while, he placed it on the stove, his thoughts drifting as he waited for it to bake.

Reynar stepped outside to catch some fresh air, settling onto the terrace just in front of the door. He was alone with his thoughts, feeling the calming breeze brush against his face. 

"What a day… Who is she? Where did she come from? How did she end up like that?" he muttered to himself, his mind racing with questions. "Well, when she wakes up, I should get all my answers. I hope. Otherwise, she might be a witch or some kind of monster trying to eat me. Hahaha." 

He chuckled softly. After a while, he stood up. 

"I think the bread should be ready."

Reynar went back inside, making his way to the oven. He opened the door, but as he stepped in, he immediately sensed something was off. The woman was no longer on the sofa. 

He rolled his eyes.

Before he could react, a sharp cold metal pressed against his throat.

"Who… are… you… and... where… am I?" a woman's voice whispered into Reynar's left ear, the cold edge of the knife still pressing against his throat.

"PLEASE DON'T EAT ME!! I SWEAR I TASTE REALLY BAD! PLEASE DON'T KILL ME!!" he cried out, panic flooding his voice as tears welled up in his eyes.

"Just answer my question!" The knife pressed harder, sending a sharp chill down his spine.

"Okay, okay!" Reynar stammered, voice trembling. "I'm Reynar, and this is my house. I found you in a river near the forest, and I carried you here. PLEASE DON'T KILL ME!" He whined, barely able to keep his composure.

The woman's grip on the knife tightened, her breath steady but shallow. She didn't move for a moment, and Reynar's heart hammered in his chest, the tension suffocating.

She spoke again, her voice cold, yet with a trace of curiosity. "You… saved me?"

Reynar nodded quickly, eyes wide with fear. "Yes! I swear, I didn't know who you were. You were unconscious in the river. I just… I didn't want to leave you there. There are creatures in the forest… bad ones."

The woman lowered the knife slightly, but it remained dangerously close to his skin. "What's your name?"

"Reynar! I already told you! Please, just—please, don't hurt me." He closed his eyes, bracing himself for whatever might come next.

The woman glared at him pushing him forwards and finally letting him go. "You're lucky I didn't kill you."

Reynar threw his hands up in frustration. "I saved your life, and this is how you repay me? By nearly slitting my throat?!"

She rolled her eyes, unfazed. "I don't need your pity. I can handle myself."

"Then why the hell did you look like shit back in the river?" Reynar shot back.

She didn't answer immediately, but her gaze softened for just a moment before turning cold again. "I didn't ask for your help."

Reynar exhaled sharply, trying to calm down. "Fine. But I'm not letting you just wander off after I went through all this trouble."

The woman looked at him, her expression unreadable. "What do you want from me?"

"I just want to know why you nearly killed me, and why you're here." He crossed his arms, still on edge.

"Does it matter?" she asked, her voice softening. "I'm here now, that's all that matters."

Reynar shook his head. "It matters to me."

There was silence for a while.

"Anyways, I am more relaxed now, come and sit there. i was about to take the dread from the oven"

The woman says:

"Does it smell like something is burning?"

Rey quickly realising.

"THE BREAAAAD!!" 

As he shouts this he rushes towards the kitchen.

Reynar grabbed what remained of the bread, cutting off the burnt edges, and placed it alongside a jar of honey on the table. He gestured to the sofa, his frustration fading slightly.

"Guess we'll just have to make do with this," he said with a small shrug.

The woman didn't say anything at first but moved to sit on the couch. Reynar joined her, both of them settling into the worn cushions. The air between them was quiet for a moment as they both took a piece of bread and spread some honey on it.

"Not exactly a five-star meal, huh?" Reynar said, breaking the silence.

She took a bite and chewed slowly, her eyes narrowing as she considered her words. "It's... fine. You're lucky you're not a terrible cook, at least."

Reynar chuckled at that. "I can't believe you almost killed me earlier, and now you're eating my burnt bread."

She glanced at him, a smirk tugging at her lips. "You're lucky I didn't. I wasn't sure if you were going to be useful, but you seem harmless enough."

"Haha, real reassuring," Reynar replied, rolling his eyes.

Reynar leaned forward, his eyes sharp. "Alright, I need answers now….. Who are you?"

Eva swallowed the last bit of bread, taking her time before she answered, her voice calm but distant. "My name's Eris."

"Nice to meet you, Eris," Reynar said, though his tone was anything but friendly. "Now, where are you from?"

Eva glanced up, her expression unreadable. "Are you interrogating me?" she asked, a little bite to her words.

"Yeah," Reynar replied without hesitation. "I am."

Eva raised an eyebrow, leaning back in her seat as if the questions were a bit too much for her. "I'm from a place far from here," she said after a moment, her voice flat.

"Far from here? A village? A city?" Reynar prodded, genuinely curious.

She shifted in her seat, clearly not eager to elaborate. "It's not important," she said, brushing off his question.

"Not important?" Reynar scoffed. "You washed up on the riverbank and you don't think that's important?"

Eva's gaze flickered to him, a faint smirk forming on her lips. "I didn't ask for your help," she replied, the edge in her voice still present.

Reynar leaned in, his arms crossed over his chest. "Doesn't matter," he said. "You're here now, and you're gonna answer some questions."

Eva didn't seem fazed, and after a long pause, she simply shrugged. "I'm not staying long," she muttered. "That's all you need to know."

Reynar eyed her carefully, not buying it. "I don't trust you yet," he said bluntly. "But I guess I don't have much of a choice, do I?"

Eva met his gaze, her eyes steady, though something flickered there—a hint of vulnerability, maybe, or just fatigue. "You don't need to trust me," she said quietly. "I don't need your trust."

Reynar sat back, studying her for a moment longer. There was more to her, he could tell, but for now, he let the conversation die. There were other things on his mind, things he couldn't ignore.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy between them. The bread was long gone, and neither moved to break the stillness. But then…

"#@%#@%@^#$"

Reynar's eyes snapped up. "What was that?" he asked, his voice low.

Eva's face paled, her eyes wide. "F-ck!" she whispered harshly under her breath.

Before Reynar could respond, a booming voice echoed from outside, deep and threatening.

"ERIS ASHTHORN!!! We know you're in there! Just come out already!"

Reynar froze, blinking in confusion. "Eris??… Oh, you…" he muttered.

Eva glared at him. "Excellent, now you're a little less stupid," she snapped. Her eyes darted around the room, and she grabbed Reynar by the arm, yanking him toward the floor with surprising strength. "Shh… don't make noise," she hissed, her voice barely audible.

Reynar, still in a daze, tried to pull away. "Why??"

The heavy silence in the air was palpable. Reynar's hand tightened around the hilt of his sword, his body poised for the inevitable. The footsteps outside grew louder, their thudding like the beat of a drum in his chest. He exchanged a glance with Eris, who stood rigid, eyes scanning the door, ready for whatever came next.

"If you want to live, you'll shut up!" she whispered harshly, her face close to his. "Now. Stay quiet."

Reynar raised an eyebrow, his mouth twitching into a grin despite the situation. "Oh, I get it. First, you try to kill me, then you tell me to shut up. You sure know how to make a guy feel welcome."

Eris didn't respond. Her sharp eyes darted toward the door as the footsteps outside grew closer. The hunter's voices echoed in the night air. "Eris Ashthorn! We know you're here. Come out and face us!"

Reynar's smirk faded. "Ah, that's not ominous at all."

Eris didn't take her eyes off the door. "Don't make a sound. Stay down."

Reynar's hand hovered over his sword. "Stay down? If I do that, you'll be stuck handling everything yourself. And I'm not the kind of guy who just sits back and lets his sword gather dust in a fight."

Eris shot him a sharp look, and Reynar held his hands up in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. I'll keep quiet, for now. You're the boss."

For a moment, the world outside the door went still. The men were waiting, but the tension was almost unbearable. Eris's eyes never left the door. Then, without a word, she stood, slipping into the shadows with deadly grace. Reynar followed, his footsteps light, but his sword ready.

The door slammed open.

The leader of the group, a hulking figure with a cruel grin, stepped forward. "So, Eris, you finally decide to show your face."

Eris didn't flinch. "I wasn't hiding. You're just too slow."

Reynar snorted. "Ooh, tough words for someone standing in front of a bunch of armed men. I'm getting secondhand anxiety over here."

The leader's eyes flicked to Reynar. "And who's this? Another stray you picked up? Don't tell me you're looking for a fight too."

Reynar smirked. "No, I'm just here for the entertainment. Can't let a girl have all the fun."

The leader sneered. "You'll regret that."

And just like that, the battle began. Eris was a blur, moving with the speed of a predator. Her dagger flashed, and one of the hunters crumpled to the ground, a shallow breath escaping his lips as blood pooled around him.

Reynar, however, was less subtle. As the second hunter lunged at him, Reynar gave a dramatic sigh. "Isn't it a little rude to interrupt dinner plans like this?" He easily sidestepped the attack, his sword flashing through the air as he cut down the hunter in one swift motion.

The leader, furious now, swung his massive sword in a wide arc, aiming for both Eris and Reynar. Reynar blocked the strike with his own blade, grinning like he was enjoying a game. "This all feels a little… dramatic, don't you think? I mean, I was really just trying to enjoy some bread and honey here. Maybe next time, you can knock first?"

The leader growled in frustration, swinging again. Reynar dodged, his body moving with a grace that belied his relaxed attitude. "You know, I was planning on having a quiet night. But apparently, we're playing 'Who Wants to Die First' instead. Well, since you asked…"

Reynar closed the distance between them, his sword flashing. The leader barely blocked the strike, but Reynar's speed caught him off guard. With a quick twist of his wrist, he disarmed the man, sending his sword flying into the bushes.

Before the leader could react, Eris was already behind him, her dagger slicing cleanly across his neck. The man stiffened, eyes wide in shock, blood seeping from the wound. He tried to speak, but only a wet gurgle came out.

Reynar wiped his sword against his sleeve and smirked. "See? That's why you knock first."

Great. That was disgusting. I dont even how i still keep a straight face. No, just relaxe. I need to be cool in front of ladies, even though she's much cooler than me.

The leader's body trembled, but just before he collapsed, Reynar crouched beside him, tilting his head with a mocking grin.

"Before you die, I'll be nice and give you the honor of knowing my full name." He tapped the man's forehead lightly with the hilt of his sword. "Reynar….. Aragon."

The dying man's pupils shrank. His bloodied lips twitched as he gasped, "Aragon…?"

Reynar blinked. "Wait… You know me?"

The man's mouth opened as if to answer, but before a word could escape, his eyes turned completely black. His body convulsed violently. Then, with a sickening crack, his jaw stretched unnaturally wide.

From the depths of his throat, something inky and shapeless began to pour out. It writhed like a shadow given life, peeling itself from the corpse as if shedding old skin.

Reynar stumbled back, gripping his sword tighter. "Yeah, nope. Definitely not normal."

Eris cursed under her breath, flipping her dagger into a reverse grip. "We need to move."

The dark mass shifted, twisting, forming into a vague humanoid shape. A chilling whisper slithered through the air as the figure stood before them.

Reynar exhaled sharply. "Well, sh-t."

The figure loomed before them, its form shifting like smoke barely holding shape. Its voice slithered through the cold night air, layered and distorted, like whispers from the void.

"Reynar Aragon…"

Reynar felt a shiver crawl down his spine. Not because he was scared, of course—he was a fearless warrior, after all. The fearless warrior who definitely wasn't gripping his sword just a little tighter.

"Alright, that's creepy," he muttered. "Who the hell are you supposed to be? Did you crawl out of a bedtime story that even kids would find boring?"?"

The figure let out a low chuckle, the kind that made the hairs on his neck stand up. "The son of the fallen… Still so ignorant.

"Tell me about your parents?? Are they doing good??"

Reynar's expression shifted—the sarcasm and carefree attitude vanished, replaced by a sharp, anger.

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU KNOW ABOUT MY PARENTS!??"

"Oh? Touched a nerve, did I?"

Reynar's grip on his sword tightened. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, drowning out everything else. He didn't know what this thing was, but if it dared to bring up his parents—if it dared to mock him—he was ready to cut it down where it stood.

Eris stepped closer, her dagger held low but ready. "Rey… Who is this thing?"

"I don't know," Reynar spat, eyes locked onto the figure. "But it's about to be very dead if it doesn't start making sense."

The shadowy entity chuckled, a deep, distorted sound that made the air feel colder. **"Your anger is expected. After all, you've spent your life believing their deaths were an accident."**

Reynar's breath hitched.

"…What?"

"You were told they died by chance. A tragic twist of fate. But that was a lie."

His stomach twisted into knots. He wanted to call it bullshit, to swing his sword and cut this thing in half, but something in its voice—something about the way it spoke—made him hesitate.

Eris glanced at him, her brows furrowed. "Rey… is that true?"

He clenched his jaw. "Shut up." His voice came out lower than he meant.

The figure tilted its head. "If you want the truth… come find me. But if you refuse, if you run and pretend you never heard these words…" Its presence grew heavier, suffocating. "Then I will make sure this village suffers in your place. Every. Last. Soul."

Reynar's fingers twitched over the hilt of his sword.

Eris tensed beside him. "We need to kill this thing."

"Oh, believe me, I was already planning on it," Reynar growled.

He took a step forward, muscles coiled, ready to strike—

But the figure's body shuddered, twisting like smoke caught in the wind.

"Not tonight," it whispered. "But soon."

And just like that, it dissipated into the air, leaving behind only the lifeless corpse of the man it had possessed.

For a long moment, neither Reynar nor Eris moved. The night was eerily silent, the only sound Reynar's unsteady breath.

Finally, he exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. "…Alright. That was the second creepiest thing that's ever happened to me."

Eris gave him a sharp look. "What was the first?"

"Shh! it's a secret."

She stared at him. "…You're an idiot."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," he muttered, sheathing his sword. His expression darkened as he glanced back at the dead man's body.

Murdered.

That word echoed in his mind. His parents weren't just lost to some random tragedy. Someone had killed them. And now, this thing—whatever it was—wanted him to find out why.

He let out a deep breath and turned to Eris.

"Looks like we've got a trip to take."

Eris crossed her arms, eyeing him skeptically. "A trip? Just like that? You don't even know where to start."

Reynar shrugged, kicking at the dirt. "Well, standing around here isn't gonna get me answers, is it? That thing clearly wanted me to follow it. Might as well play along and see where it leads."

Eris sighed, rubbing her temple. "This is stupid."

"Hey, if you've got a better idea, I'd love to hear it," he shot back, smirking.

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. But don't expect me to hold your hand when things go south."

"Aw, so you _are_ coming with me?" Reynar grinned. "I knew you couldn't resist my charm."

Eris smacked him on the back of the head. "Shut up and start packing."

Reynar laughed, but the weight in his chest never left.

Murdered.

The word wouldn't stop ringing in his mind. Whatever truth was waiting for him, he wasn't going to stop until he found it.