"Legends and Lies"

They say that the last breath of the Witch still lingers hidden deep within the great forest of Eclipsedale. A place shrouded in shadow, where even light dares not tread, it is said to be guarded by a dragon—a creature of ancient power bound to her will. The Witch, said to be the most malevolent being to ever walk the earth, defying the very laws of gods. For years, she reigned over humanity, casting her dark influence across the land.

But her tyranny was not without challenge. In the end, the heavens themselves intervened, sending forth a warrior to hunt the Witch. Through fire and blood, the warrior drove her into the depths of Eclipsedale, a cursed forest that echoed with her final screams. There, the warrior struck her down, ending her reign of terror. With her death, the glorious Ferrothia Empire was born, and the world was free from her shadow. Or so they believed...

Sierra 

"What a load of lies!" Sierra muttered, her voice dripping with disdain. "I was never killed by some warrior or whatever—they made that up. I left because I was bored. That rat bastard really took some creative liberties with the story."

Roderick, an old man weathered by time and hardship, groaned as he set down a bundle of logs with a heavy thud. "And then you jumped on my back... I truly wish some warrior had taken your head that day."

Sierra’s lips curled into a sly smile, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Oh my, oh my, such venom from that old mouth... you sure you don’t want me to rip it off for you?"

He waved her off with a tired hand, irritation lacing his voice. "Yeah, yeah... Be my guest. At least then these old bones would finally get some rest."q

How boring, she thought, her mind drifting as the conversation began to dull. The first time she’d stumbled upon this old man, he had been teetering on the edge of death—his body riddled with wounds so severe that even she would have struggled to survive. Yet this human had clung to life with a tenacity that intrigued her, so she had decided to help him.

And once she did, there was nothing else to do. So, she followed him. Not out of compassion or curiosity, but simply because the alternative was far more tedious.

“Get to work girl! The house isn't gonna build itself,” the old man grumbled under his breath

‘It had been nearly three or four  years since I first started traveling with the old man. Our journey was full of excitement—the daily struggle for survival, the relentless pursuit by knights, and the tales of a fallen hero. We were constantly on the move because Roderick had slain those who wronged him. We roamed from village to village, changing dominions and identities, even dispatching any pursuers who came too close.

The old man was remarkably strong, fending off groups of so-called ‘elite’ knights with ease. But despite his prowess, he was still only human. So from time to time, I lent him a hand, not just out of necessity but as a token of gratitude for the countless entertaining experiences he’d provided. After all, dealing with a few mere mortals was hardly a challenge for me.’

Except for a few special cases, I reminded myself, flicking my fingers. The house materialized in seconds. I took some extra care with the interior, knowing we’d be staying here for a while. We had set up camp in the deep woods of the Mahar Kingdom. Fortunately, we had found one of the most enchanting spots in the forest. There were edible and beautiful plants all around, a river flowing just steps from our camp, and a hill nearby that offered a breathtaking view.

It was also the safest place we could find, despite being in wyvern territory. The old man had handled the wyverns with his usual skill, and I had built a small house within a cave and a charming little structure outside.

Roderick gutted the wyvern he’d hunted and set up a large, thin slab of stone on two rocks. I ignited the fire with a flick of my fingers, and the old man began cooking.

“Go fetch some water for us to drink,” he grumbled.

“Aye, aye, commander!” I replied with a dramatic salute, standing rigidly.

“DO NOT CALL ME THAT!” he snapped, his voice filled with irritation.

I grinned and dashed off toward the river.

“Wouldn’t you appreciate the house I worked so hard on? There’s even a kitchen in there,” I said, savoring the last bite of the wyvern meat.

“You always overdo things,” Roderick replied sharply, his voice tinged with frustration. “If there was a kitchen, you should’ve mentioned it.”

A heavy silence fell between us, the weight of unspoken thoughts hanging in the air. Roderick broke the quiet, his voice carrying a rare weariness. “How long do you plan on following me like this?”

“Are you exhausted?” I asked, my tone softening with concern. “I told you that wyvern was too much for you. If only you’d let me—”

“What was in that parchment you bought from that kid in Tadia?” Roderick cut in abruptly, a trace of irritation in his voice.

I shrugged nonchalantly. “Oh, just an old, corny tale about the witch hunt. But there was something intriguing—something about the witch’s last breath lingering in the forest…”

Roderick’s expression hardened. “Like you said, it’s just a corny tale spread among nobles and priests who worship the king. I told you not to buy that nonsense, and yet you still went ahead and got it.”

He shook his head, frustration evident in his voice. “We have enough to worry about without chasing after myths. Focus on what’s real and what we can actually use.”

I didn’t immediately reply, lost in thought. “But I’m still alive, how could this last breath  even come into play?” I mumbled to myself.

Roderick shot me a questioning glance. I, however, kept my gaze fixed on the cloudy, bluish sky, where long trees obscured most of the view.

“But then again, it’s nothing compared to that fairy tale about my hunt,” i added with a light laugh

Roderick sighed as he got up. “I’m heading to bed. Be aware of the monsters; I don’t want my rest disturbed.”

I curled up, hugging my knees, and muttered with a pout, “Old grump.”

Roderick

With a grunt, I got up and pushed some firewood toward Sierra. Not that she needed it i thought —she could transform an old monster's cave into a house with a flick of her wrist.

 She didn’t use her powers often, but when she did, it always felt unnatural, maybe even a little ominous. There was never any malice in her, no dark intentions, but something about the way her magic worked just didn’t sit right with me. Still, after all these years, I had grown used to it.

Standing in front of the cave—once large enough to house a dragon—I couldn’t help but sigh. The entrance was now a modest doorway, most of the massive opening covered with wood, with two fire lanterns hanging on either side. I had to duck slightly to get inside.

As I took in the interior, another sigh escaped me. Sierra didn’t care for tents or sleeping on hard ground, so she’d conjured up this house. Wooden floors, proper walls, and even a red carpet. Two doors faced each other on opposite sides of the room, making it feel like a home rather than a temporary refuge.

She had a knack for making the impossible seem ordinary, yet somehow, it always reminded me of how far removed from normal life we were.

An exiled criminal on the run with the infamous witch—the one said to have ruled humanity with destruction, only to be killed by the first king a thousand years ago. And now, here she is, roaming with an old rogue like me. Though I didn’t fully believe the stories, there was always that nagging possibility that maybe she really was her.

Or maybe she’s just one of those cursed awakened ones. Power like that tends to mess with your head, and none of their kind were ever right in the mind. That thought gnawed at me as I pushed open the door on the right, more out of habit than curiosity.

The room was simple, almost too simple. Modest in size, with walls that seemed to absorb the dim light. A narrow bed was tucked against the side wall, running parallel to the door. The gray carpet beneath my boots felt surprisingly soft, a stark contrast to the rugged life I’d grown used to. Behind the door hung a weathered old hanger, ready to take the weight of my cloak. And then there was the window—small, yet perfectly framed, offering a view of the darkened forest beyond.

I couldn’t even muster the energy to wonder where the window came from, or how it managed to show a world that seemed so far removed from this strange little haven. Sierra’s magic, no doubt. Always bending reality just enough to unsettle me.

With a weary sigh, I shrugged off my cape and tossed it over the hanger. The bed creaked as I sat down, the softness of it almost foreign after years of hard ground and thin mats. My mind raced despite my exhaustion, grappling with thoughts I’d rather push away. The old stories about Sierra, her unsettling power... it all gnawed at the edges of my sanity, but I was too tired to dwell on it.

For now, I just needed sleep

I slowly laid down on the bed, feeling every ache in my body. I must be getting old... Quite the presumptuous thought, considering my hair and beard were already mostly white, with only a few stubborn strands of black left.

With a sigh, I removed my boots and loosened my shirt. Each movement felt heavier than the last, the weight of the years settling into my bones. It wasn’t just the battles or the endless running—it was the burden of everything I’d seen, everything I’d done.

I stared up at the ceiling, trying to will away the thoughts that always seemed to creep in at night. But tonight, even those thoughts seemed tired. For now, all I wanted was a moment of peace. A small, fleeting escape from the world outside.

‘No matter how much I try to avoid it, in the end…’

I closed my eyes, letting the unfinished thought drift away. The weight of it lingered, but All I wanted now was a few hours of rest—rest without the usual nightmares that haunted me.

But even as I settled into the bed, I knew that peace was a rare luxury in my world.

I woke to the heavy, oppressive air that seemed to hang around me like a warning. Is it that day already? I wondered groggily.

Glancing out the window, I saw the full moon hanging low in the sky, its pale light casting eerie shadows. It seemed to stare back at me, a silent reminder of the danger that lay just near me..

“Sierra,” I whispered, the name tinged with a blend of apprehension and quiet acceptance as I prepared for what was to come.