Julian's world was noise.
Steel on steel. Screams cutting through the crackle of fire. Smoke stung his eyes as he stumbled forward, the dagger slick with sweat and blood that didn't feel like his own. Every breath burned, every heartbeat a hammer inside his skull.
The raider lunged again, and this time Julian moved first.
He ducked low, the axe missing his head by inches, and drove the dagger upward with every ounce of desperation he had left. It sank into flesh. The raider's roar turned into a gurgle. Julian pushed harder, until the man toppled sideways into the mud, dead weight collapsing in a heap.
Julian staggered back, gasping. His hands shook uncontrollably. The dagger slipped from his grip, landing beside the body with a dull thud.
He had killed someone.
The thought didn't feel real.
Firelight flickered across his face, painting everything in shades of red and gold. He turned — the camp was burning around him. The banners of the Black Crown were half-torn, fluttering like dying wings. Men screamed in the distance. The ground was slick beneath his boots.
And then—
he saw her.
Through the haze of smoke, across the burning tents, a figure stood out — small, slender, half-hidden by flame. Her hands were bound to a wagon post, hair matted with ash. A torn cloak fluttered at her shoulders. She wasn't fighting or running. She was waiting.
Their eyes met through the smoke.
Julian froze.
Even from across the chaos, he felt it — the same pulse that had haunted his dreams since he woke in this world. That same voice that whispered at the edge of his memory. The girl's gaze locked onto his, steady and pleading.
"Please," she mouthed.
A flash of movement — a raider raised a sword behind her, shouting something guttural. Julian's body moved before his mind caught up. He sprinted through the flames, dodging falling canvas, mud splashing beneath his boots.
The mercenary's voice roared behind him — "Julian! Wait—!"
But he didn't stop.
He ducked past a collapsing tent, smoke swallowing the sky, and burst into the open clearing by the wagon. The raider swung at him, blade glinting orange in the firelight. Julian dropped low again, grabbing the fallen dagger from the ground and driving it into the man's leg. The raider howled, stumbled, and Julian slammed into him with all his weight, knocking him backward into the burning wagon.
The fire caught his cloak instantly. The man screamed — and didn't get up again.
Julian turned to the girl. "Hold still!"
Her wrists were raw where the ropes bit into them. He grabbed a loose shard of metal from the wreckage and sawed at the bindings until they snapped. She stumbled free, catching herself against him. Her breath was ragged, her skin cold despite the flames around them.
Up close, she looked… familiar.
Not by face — he had never seen her before. But something deep inside him knew her. The shape of her eyes. The faint scar beneath her left cheek. He didn't know why, but she felt like a fragment of a dream he'd forgotten.
"Who are you?" he asked, voice barely a whisper.
She looked up, eyes wide — green, bright even in the firelight. "You came," she breathed.
Julian's heart stopped.
"I— what?"
Her lips trembled, but she smiled — faint, fragile, like someone clinging to hope after too long in the dark. "I knew you'd come. I waited."
Before Julian could speak, a roar split the air.
A mounted raider crashed through the flames, horse black with soot, axe raised high. Julian barely had time to pull the girl aside before the blade struck where they'd stood. Sparks exploded around them. The horse screamed, rearing, hooves smashing through a tent post.
Julian rolled, dragging her down into the mud. The raider swung again, missing by inches. The force of it sent dirt flying.
Julian's dagger was gone.
The mercenary appeared out of the smoke like a ghost — sword flashing. He cut the rider clean from his saddle, the axe dropping from the dead man's hand as he fell.
"Damn fool!" the mercenary barked at Julian. "You'll get yourself killed!"
Julian pushed himself up, breath shaking. "She— she needed help!"
The mercenary's eyes flicked to the girl, then to the burning wagons. He cursed under his breath. "We don't have time for this. Move!"
He grabbed Julian's arm, dragging him through the chaos. The girl stumbled after them, coughing, eyes darting through the firelight as though afraid the world might vanish if she blinked.
They broke through the camp's edge, into the treeline where the smoke thinned. The roar of battle faded behind them, replaced by the sound of crackling fire and the distant screams of the dying. Julian collapsed to his knees, lungs burning, mud clinging to his skin.
The girl knelt beside him, trembling. The mercenary stood watch at the edge of the clearing, sword dripping blood.
For a long moment, none of them spoke.
Then Julian turned to her.
"Who are you?" he asked again, quieter this time. "How did you know my name?"
She looked at him, and in the flicker of dying firelight, her expression softened — sorrow and relief tangled together.
"I don't," she whispered. "But I dreamed of you. The night before they came."
Julian's breath caught.
The mercenary turned his head sharply, frowning. "Dreamed of him?"
She nodded. "You… you were standing in a field of ash. And you said—" Her voice faltered. "You said you'd find me before the world burned."
Julian's blood ran cold. The words sounded like something he'd said — not here, but before.
Before he died.
The girl looked at him, tears reflecting the firelight. "You kept your promise."
Julian stared at her — heart pounding, mind spinning — as the distant flames of the burning camp painted the night sky red.
And for the first time since waking in this cursed world…
he began to wonder if fate had dragged him here for a reason.
This part deepens the emotional connection between Julian and the girl, reveals more mystery, and sows the first hints of what binds them together.
The wind shifted, carrying the scent of smoke and blood through the trees.
Julian sat still, his heartbeat slowly matching the rhythm of the crackling fire behind them. The girl's words echoed in his head — You said you'd find me before the world burned.
He wanted to deny it, to say she was mistaken, but he couldn't. The look in her eyes — that fragile certainty — felt too real. Too familiar.
The mercenary broke the silence first.
"We can't stay here." His voice was gravel and exhaustion. He sheathed his sword and glanced at the girl. "You're lucky he found you. Raiders don't leave survivors."
The girl's gaze dropped to the mud, her hands trembling slightly. "I wasn't supposed to be here. They took me from the valley—" She stopped mid-sentence, glancing toward Julian as if weighing whether to continue. "They said I was worth something. To someone."
Julian frowned. "Worth something?"
The mercenary let out a bitter laugh. "Everything's got a price out here, boy. Even people."
Julian's jaw tightened. "Who are you, anyway?"
The man's gaze flicked up. The firelight caught the scar running from his ear to his jawline. "Taron," he said after a moment. "Black Crown sellsword. Or what's left of it." His eyes hardened. "And you?"
Julian hesitated. The truth tangled on his tongue. Who am I?
He wasn't sure anymore.
"Julian," he said finally. "Just Julian."
Taron grunted, unsatisfied but too tired to argue. He turned toward the girl. "And you?"
Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper. "Lira."
Julian repeated it under his breath — Lira. The name felt strange and right at the same time, like something that had been buried in his mind long before he'd ever heard it.
Taron started pacing, scanning the shadows. "We head north by morning. There's a river two days out — maybe fewer if we cut through the ridge. Raiders won't follow that far."
Julian turned toward Lira. "You said they took you. Why? Who would pay for you?"
She looked up at him, eyes reflecting the dim firelight. "I don't know who they were. But one of them—" her voice wavered — "one of them kept asking if I could hear the song."
Taron froze. "The song?"
Lira nodded, rubbing her wrists where the ropes had bitten through skin. "They said I was… marked. That I could lead them to something buried beneath the old ruins."
The mercenary cursed quietly under his breath. "Great. Just what we need. Another damned prophecy."
Julian's mind spun. "You think she's telling the truth?"
Taron glared at him. "You think I care? She's alive, that's trouble enough."
Lira's eyes shifted between them. "You don't have to protect me," she said softly. "If I'm a burden, I'll go."
Julian shook his head. "No. You're coming with us."
She blinked. "Why?"
He didn't have an answer that made sense. All he could feel was that same pulse, that strange gravity pulling him toward her — the same force that had been whispering to him since the moment he woke in this world. He clenched his fists. "Because I said I'd find you," he murmured, almost to himself.
Taron gave him a long, unreadable look. Then, with a grunt, he kicked dirt over the dying embers of their fire. "Enough talk. We move at first light."
The forest swallowed the light as they settled into uneasy silence. Julian sat against a tree, exhaustion clawing at his bones. Lira sat nearby, her knees drawn close, watching the faint glow of the burning camp beyond the trees.
"You really dreamed of me?" Julian asked quietly.
Lira turned to him. Her expression softened, her voice distant. "Yes. You were standing in a field of ash. You looked… lost. And you said the world would burn unless I found you."
Julian's breath caught. That dream — the field of ash, the whisper of his mother's voice — it wasn't the first time he'd seen it.
He looked at her again, the flicker of firelight painting her face in gold and shadow.
"What if I wasn't supposed to find you?" he said quietly. "What if it's the other way around?"
Lira didn't answer. Her eyes drifted to the stars barely visible through the smoke.
"Then," she whispered, "maybe that's what fate wanted."
Julian leaned his head back against the tree. The night air was heavy with ash and questions. The forest creaked softly around them.
And somewhere far beyond the hills, a faint sound — almost like a song — drifted through the wind.
Lira's eyes snapped open. Julian straightened.
"You hear that?" she whispered.
Taron stood up instantly, hand on his sword. "We're not alone."
The song grew clearer — haunting, wordless, rising from the darkness. It wasn't human.
Julian rose to his feet, heart pounding, staring into the trees where the sound was coming from.
For a moment, he thought he saw shapes moving in the mist — tall, pale, and watching.
Lira clutched his arm. "Julian—"
The forest seemed to breathe.
And then, just as suddenly as it began, the song stopped.
The silence that followed was heavier than any scream.
Julian didn't know what waited in that darkness, but he knew one thing —
whatever it was, it had been waiting for them.