The Guardian’s Echo

A Soldier in a Dreamscape: Soren

We rode into Runethorne Vale, and the silence was louder than any battlefield I’d ever been in. I remembered this place as a bustling trade hub — the center of the Highlands’ villages — now, the pearl-like stones of the streets felt like bones.

A lot of the buildings had been overgrown with foliage from the hills. The plant life didn’t sway with the wind, it reacted to Penny’s proximity, bending and leaning towards her. I couldn’t pry my gaze away from her face — not because of her looks, she was beautiful — but because I could see the Sight taking over her. I didn’t have to just protect her from potential physical enemies, I needed to make sure she didn’t get swallowed up by the memories of the land.

I had spent most of my life as a solitary force. I was a shield for the Crown. Now, I could feel something inside myself being drawn to her. It was magnetic. My energy seemed to call to hers. I had felt it in our morning footwork. Suddenly, I felt my sense of purpose starting to redefine itself. I couldn’t just be “the chain” I’d promised her I would be. I felt like I was being tethered to something real after two centuries of drifting.

We moved through the streets, and I kept an eye on her while watching our surroundings. It didn’t take long to notice that every door in the village seemed to be ajar. In Arthelgardian culture, leaving a door cracked open meant a return was expected soon. The people of Runethorne Vale didn’t just leave; they were evacuated in a hurry.

I felt a low-frequency hum in the air that set my very bones on edge. It reminded me of the hum of a rift right before it opened. I kept Emberleaf tight against Moonstride’s side. My knee occasionally brushed Penny’s as we navigated the narrow, twisting paths upwards.

The deeper we got into the village, the more unsettled I felt. I didn’t hear a single bird. The local wildlife — mountain hares and small fae creatures — were nowhere to be seen. I felt the kind of cold silence that preceded a predator.

Once the village fell away behind us, the road turned into a steep, winding path toward the fortress-like manor. I could feel the weight of it before we even reached the gates. The air began to thin, smelling like ancient magic and old books. Soon, the gates came into sight, and Penny’s lavender light was casting a soft glow on the stones of the path.

I stopped Emberleaf at the final bend before the estate gates. Penny looked pale, but determined. I sucked in a breath, feeling a surge of pride that rivaled anything I’d ever felt even for my best soldiers. We stood before the massive pillars of the Ashendor gates, and the vibration in the air felt even stronger now.

“Penny,” I started, my voice cutting through the hum of the ley lines. “Once we cross this line, the house will see you. It has been waiting for an Ashendor for two hundred years. We’re not just opening a door. The house will want to pull you into its center.”

I reached out, my gauntlet-clad hand resting over her smaller one. “If the visions get too strong, if you lose track of where — or when — you are, you find the grey in the mist. You look for me.”

She answered with a nod and a simple, reassuring, “Okay.”

We dismounted and I held the reins of both our horses as she withdrew the rusted key from her pocket. When it caught the light, the runes carved into the pillars began to bleed liquid silver light. With my free hand, I drew my sword, and scanned the distorting shadows that pulled at the edges of the gates.

I had spent my life guarding the realm’s peace, but standing here at the gates of a house that existed through different layers of time all at once, I realized I was out of my depth. I wasn’t a general here. I was just a man with a sword, standing next to the woman the Highlands wanted to claim.