"Training... is officially over."
Those words sounded so surreal to him. Seven years... and just like that, it was over. He was done.
Beyond his immediate joy, there was an emotion that lingered deep underneath, though it was gradually taking over. He didn't know what it was, but it was akin to a sudden feeling of emptiness—a hollow dread that he no longer had any purpose to serve, no goal to reach.
His smile was quick to fade, an ache growing in his heart. 'Was this really it?' he thought, 'Is it over?'
He wasn't sure which was worse: the fact that the only thing he looked forward to for nearly a decade had finally come to an end, or the fact that he knew what would happen next, Eofa hinting at it years prior...
He'd have to fight and kill an eldritch. No help, so support.
He'd gone all this time without landing a single glimpse of one, and he'd be happy to continue that trend.
Eofa, on the other hand, didn't seem to obsess over their journey that had seemingly just come to an end. He was already looking into the future, gently reaching out his hand to Heath—still sitting on his knees within the spring—as he spoke. "Four miles."
"What?" Heath murmured as he was firmly pulled from the ground. The sudden padding of dripping water suddenly filled his ears, an odd sense of comfort being granted to him.
"Four miles in every direction from this cabin. That's the radius within which I've cleared the forest of all Eldritch presence."
Heath's eyes widened with surprise, though truth be told, he already had his suspicions. All these years, and not a single Eldritch had ever been seen or heard. That, paired with Eofa's occasional disappearances for hours on end, pretty much were a telltale sign.
Still though, a four-mile radius was no feat to scoff at. Walking, killing and combing is all Eofa had been doing these past seven years... Heath could only imagine the toll that'd take on a human body.
Initially, Heath was rather confused as to why this was being brought up to him... until Eofa continued...
"You're going to pierce that veil. Go beyond the confines of which even I haven't explored."
Naturally, he shivered. "This starts... today?"
Eofa didn't respond, simply reaching into a small pocket sewn into his cloak, pulling out a dark leather pouch which he gently tucked inside Heath's palm.
He didn't even have time to analyze its contents before the next words were spoken: "This isn't your home anymore. Leave."
He stood in silence. He didn't have the courage to speak, nor did he have the strength to show any attempt of emotion. Out of fear, out of surprise, he had turned into a statue—unmoving and unwilling.
Eofa turned, not towards the bar which he'd tirelessly defended these past seven years, but towards the forest. Towards the unknown.
Before his figure could disappear into the brush, Heath finally grew the courage. "So what, you're just going to leave? I can't stay here anymore!?"
Mixed into his voice was the trembling of fear. Of sadness. He hadn't yet realised, but his eyes were beginning to water. All this time, he convinced himself he wasn't attached to this place, and to Eofa as well. And now, he was leaving.
Eofa, upon hearing these words, stopped only for a brief moment. He didn't look back, nor was there any indication of anything lingering in his tone. It was pure indifference as he responded, "Yes."
Heath could feel his heart begin to shatter. "You're really just going to abandon me? Just like my parents?"
"I could have left you to die, but I didn't, did I? I stayed with you. I made you strong. Now, show me the roots of these past seven years. When you've proven your worth, you'll return here, and so will I, and you can fully repay the kindness I've shown you all this time. That's your new purpose."
He didn't speak another word. He didn't leave time for Heath to give one final response, one final goodbye. His mind was swarmed with the images of his parents, the carriage speeding off into the night as Eofa faded into nothingness. The brush had masked his trail.
He was gone.
Silent tears streamed down his cheek, but in an odd way, he refused it. It wasn't sadness, but loneliness. Rage. There was no room in his heart to feel sorrow, but the tears still fell in spite.
"So that's what kindness is to you...?" He murmured to himself, eyes dejectedly peering into the forest, which had since gone quiet. The birds chirped, the sun faded. Orange hues masked the skies, and Heath masked his emotions. He gripped his blade, and opposite from Eofa, he walked.
The forest suddenly seemed different now. Nostalgic, in a way. During training, the stumps and logs turned into dummies for him, and even now, the hashes and cuts engraved in their surfaces remained, as if a distant reminder to further his pain.
This only continued as he finally reached the bar—old pump with the rusted spigot that never seemed to stop dripping water, now sitting dormant. Lifeless.
As the door creaked open, that scent began to hit his nose. Stale beer, faded laughter. The creak of the stairs as he climbed felt almost therapeutic, as though he was simply going up to his room to sleep. Tomorrow, there'll be more training. Tomorrow, this chapter will continue.
But he knew it was just a comforting lie.
Instead, he stood out in the hall, too hesitant to enter the room which had been his quarters—the only sense of residence he had—for the past half of his life. He mindlessly watched the forest beyond the dusted windows, the birds flying overhead, the pines shaking with the winds.
A small table sat just beneath one of the frames, Heath opening the pouch and scattering its contents over its surface:
A dark velvet stone, round, with patterns cut into its hard yet oddly fragile surface. A series of coins, which to Heath, had close to no value, inept at the thought of 'currency.'
Most telling of all, however, was a small note that was folded, creases slightly stained with what appeared to be dried beer and wine. He gripped its edges, peeling back the curtain as the words were read aloud in his head:
'You'll achieve the world. You'll find what you're looking for, even if you don't know what it is yet. Never lose faith, never lose your determination to survive...
Pierce the veil. Discover the light beyond what the eyes can see.'
The only thing left, traced neatly on the underside of the paper, was what seemed to be a map. The cabin and the forest inked onto the page, along with a form of settlement that was situated below to the south-east—no accompanying information other than what appeared to be a hastily added note at the bottom...
'Go to Ironforge. Your next chapter, and your life, awaits there - Eofa.'
Then, there was nothing. No sounds, no movements, no thoughts.
Heath stood there for a while, all the way until orange had retreated, and the pitch black took over.
For the first time in seven years... he was truly, genuinely alone.