The world was dark and empty.
And painful.
Every inch of Alby's body was in pain. His arms were sore, his legs felt heavy, his chest ached with every labored breath, his eyes felt as if they were sewn shut…
And yet, he didn't seem to be dead.
With a groan, Alby pushed himself up off the ground. With some more effort, he then pried his eyes open.
He looked himself over. There was no doubt about it. Every one of his muscles screamed in agony, but his body was intact. As far as he could tell, he didn't even have any cuts or bruises to worry about. Alby was still alive, and in one piece on top of it.
What's more, the world was not quite as empty as he originally thought.
Alby sat in a dark cave, its craggy surface leading towards a jagged opening with a faint light trickling through. It was dark and hard to make out anything distinct, but he seemed to be alone in the cavern, sitting in its center.
Alby took a moment to process his surroundings.
Where am I? he thought.
The last Alby remembered, he had been engulfed by a flaming sun cast by a demigod.
An Adept…
Alby had heard of them before - everyone had. However, he had always thought of them as no more than an urban legend, pieces of propaganda the Country put into its stories and shows as a means to promote the war effort. 'Join us, and you, too, could inherit the powers of a god!' That kind of thing. Beings of immense strength and power that defied reality itself… he had a hard time believing such a thing really existed. Never in his wildest dreams did he think a no-name like him would come face to face with such inconceivable might, let alone live to tell the tale.
But… was he really still alive? Alby didn't think he could be so lucky.
He staggered up onto his feet, dragging himself towards the entrance to the cavern. He looked up, trying to find the source of the light. When he finally saw it, he nearly fell right back into the cave.
Outside sat a vast, grey desert. It didn't seem to be made of sand – or, at least, not any that Alby had ever seen or heard of. It was as if countless grains of dust had been gathered to form an ashen sea of cascading dunes before him. The sky above him was completely dark…
Save for a massive, swirling ball of light in the center of it.
It seemed to be made of countless individual orbs of light. It had no definitive shape to it, constantly moving and changing - so much that staring at it for too long made Alby's eyes start to ache. Every few seconds, a new stream of light would shoot out from the distance and join the fray, adding to the ever-shifting mass.
Alby should have been grateful to have a source of light in this strange, dark land. And yet, the orb filled him with an inexplicable sense of dread. It was made worse by the fact that, despite how bright the ball seemed to be, the ashen world in front of him was incredibly dim, as if the light was afraid to leave its unnatural host and show him the way forward.
Alby forced himself to tear his eyes away from the sight and continued to look around, that sense of dread sticking in the back of his mind. On either side of him, as far as the eye could see, countless black caves just like the one he emerged from stood, their gaping maws opening out towards the world. Each was carved into the depths of a massive wall of coarse stone, extending far up towards the heavens, or whatever lay at the top of the sky.
As he inspected the wall of stone, someone else stumbled out from the cave to his right.
Pristine black armor covered a muscular build, putting Alby's hunger-panged frame and sad chainmail tunic to shame. His belt carried an absurd number of weapons -including two swords encased in ornate scabbards, a whetstone or two, and several knives. His belt was so cluttered that the man rattled when he moved, announcing his presence and authority to the world with every step he took. The almost comical sight was easy to forgive, though, thanks to the man's handsome yet intimidating face with light black stubble…
Alby almost stumbled back when he recognized the man. It was the commander of his ship.
The commander gave a similarly dazed glance towards the sky, a slight sneer crossing his face. He then turned towards Alby. His eyes narrowed when he saw the fragile youth staring back at him.
"You..." the commander said.
Well, this should be fun. Alby thought, raising a hand in awkward greeting.
The commander didn't appreciate the gesture.
He stomped over to Alby, grasping him by the collar once he was close enough and raising him into the air.
"Give me a good reason I shouldn't snuff out your pathetic life right here and now." the commander growled.
Alby coughed, then replied.
"Um... pretty please?"
The commander pulled his collar higher, straining Alby's neck. He raised his other fist as if to strike.
"Wait wait wait! Don't you think you need all the help you can get for... wherever we are?" Alby sputtered
The commander gritted his teeth, his other hand still raised.
"And why would a cowardly little shit like you be of any use?" the commander spat.
Alby mustered a smile.
"Well, you might not know it, but this cowardly little shit has a pretty good track record of finding ways to stay alive. Couldn't hurt to have me, right? I could be a good luck charm."
The commander thought for a second, seeming to consider Alby's offer.
"You can always change your mind and kill me later." Alby said through a wry smile.
The commander took a deep breath, then let go of Alby, dropping his fist in the process.
"You're lucky I have use for you, boy."
Alby didn't even get a chance to catch his breath before the commander began making his way over the nearest dune. Having no better plans, Alby followed.
The two walked in silence for a few minutes, slowly making their way across the desolate gray desert. After a while, Alby decided to broach a bit of conversation.
"So, uh, do you have any idea where we might be? I know I said I could help you out, but I'm not too sure of what's going on here..."
The commander didn't respond for a few moments, but did eventually give an answer.
"We're in the land of the dead."
The land of the dead…
Alby had a sneaking suspicion that was the case, but that didn't make it any easier to wrap his head around the idea. He was experiencing a strange dissonance - he was almost certainly incinerated just a short while ago, and yet here he was, alive and in good condition. Well, as good a condition as Alby could ask for.
He hesitated for a moment, then asked.
"So.. we're dead then? That whole thing with the Adept, that actually happened?"
The commander didn't respond. Alby decided to keep talking.
"I don't know about you, but I still feel pretty alive right now. How is that possible? What exactly happened to us?"
The commander shot a glare back towards Alby.
"There's some questions you'd be better off not knowing, boy" The commander grumbled. "I'd be careful where I was sticking my nose if I were you."
Alby pursed his lips. He resented the commander calling him 'boy'. After all, they were a few years apart in age at best. Sure, he looked small, but that was mostly because he had been malnourished for most of his life. He shook his head.
"Well, why shouldn't I ask? It's not every day you end up getting burned alive and live to tell the tale. Or, uh, I guess… die to tell the tale?" Alby said.
The commander grew silent. It seemed he wasn't in the mood to talk. He hadn't known him for long, but Alby doubted he was ever in the mood to talk.
The two continued to walk in silence. The cascading land slowly began to blend together. Before Alby knew it, minutes stretched into hours as they walked. In that time, there had been no change to the ever-expansive wasteland of ash, no clear destination in sight. There was, however, hunger, and thirst. Alby was no stranger to it, he had gone many a day without his fair share of food and water. A few mere hours without either was nothing to him.
The pair silently walked for what felt like a day's worth of travel. It was hard to properly tell, since the orb of light far above didn't change or move to indicate the passage of time in any way. The commander ultimately sat down at the base of one of the gray dunes, clearly intending to set up camp.
"We should keep watch. I'll stay up first - you get some rest, boy." the commander said.
Alby scoffed.
"What, and leave you to stab me in the back?" he jeered. "I don't think so - I'll take the first watch."
The commander sighed. "Suit yourself, then."
The soldier settled down on the ground without a fight. Somehow, Alby felt a little offended. Why wasn't the commander worried about Alby stabbing him in the back? He could be just as much of a threat - no, even more of one!
He sighed, then took another look around the dark landscape. Not that there was much to see - it was as empty and dark as when he first entered the place, not giving him any more clues about his strange situation.
Alby was desperate to learn more about what was going on, and the commander seemed to at least have some answers. He decided it couldn't hurt to pester the man - worst case scenario, he would just keep up his stoic silent facade.
"Ship commander, huh? You know, it's weird. You were directly in charge of me and everyone else on the boat, and yet, I don't know a thing about you. In fact, I barely even saw you until we were halfway under the water. I get you're not the talkative type, but don't you think it would have been good for the troops to hear a word or two from their commander? "
The commander laid on his side. For a moment, Alby thought he might have been asleep. But then, he spoke, his voice a gruff baritone.
"We had our orders - everyone knew what to do," he said. "There was nothing else for me to say."
Alby scoffed.
"Orders, huh?" he asked. "What a joke."
The commander shifted onto his back, giving Alby a wicked side-eye.
Alby continued.
"Why follow orders if they'll just lead you to your death?"
The commander was quiet for a moment. Alby thought he might get chewed out, but to his surprise, the man was rather tame in his response. He simply sighed, then shrugged.
"Orders are orders, boy. If it's the best way to serve our country, then I will gladly die for the cause."
Alby paused for a moment, thinking about his words.
"If your orders were to stand and die, then why fight so hard to save the vessel? I saw you trying to rally the troops at the end."
The commander thought for a moment, then answered.
"I had my reasons."
With that, the commander turned away, closing himself off to more questions. Alby sighed
He really isn't the talkative type.
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The rest of the night passed without incident. Alby took watch for a few hours, then woke the commander once he started struggling to keep his eyes open. Thankfully, the commander didn't kill Alby in the middle of the night, or whatever passed for night in this land of the dead. Once they were rested, the two continued their trek through the barren wasteland.
Unsurprisingly, the duo walked in silence, encountering nothing of note. Soon enough, the dunes of the ashen desert began growing steeper, making them harder to climb. Alby found himself gasping for air after climbing just a few of the hills.
At one point, Alby stumbled down one of these dunes - crashing into the side of the commander and making the weapons on his belt ring a clangorous tune. He continued to fall down, landing gracelessly at the bottom of the slope.
The commander continued to stand tall, barely bothered by Alby's blunder, and stared down at him in exasperation. Alby jumped to his feet, clasping his hands behind his back and looking around nonchalantly, as if to play off the blunder.
The commander merely shook his head, and walked down to catch up to Alby.
The two eventually settled in another dune and made camp for the night. By then, the lack of food and water was starting to have an impact. Alby may have been used to it, but even he was beginning to feel more lethargic than usual, each step taking a little more effort than the last. The commander didn't seem to be fairing much better, clearly becoming more and more haggard by all his equipment. Despite this, the commander wore his usual proud and indignant face when he turned to Alby.
"I'll take the first watch this time," he insisted.
Alby didn't protest. He felt he could trust the commander- for one night, anyways.
As Alby settled in, he decided to shoot the commander another question.
"Where were you from, anyways? You certainly didn't grow up on the streets."
The commander sighed.
"You ask a lot of questions, boy."
Alby scoffed.
There with the boy again…
"What, do you have anything better to do?" Alby asked.
The commander stared at him for a while, then gave a short answer.
"Upper district. Eastern Faction"
Alby chuckled.
"Hey, same as me! Though, I'm guessing your place there was much nicer than mine," he said. "I mean, I was basically living in a box before joining the army."
The commander stared at Alby a little more.
"Is that why a street urchin like you joined the war effort? The benefits?" the commander chuckled. "Figures."
Alby feigned a shocked expression.
"We didn't all grow up wiping our bums with gold, man. Fighting to get a decent meal and a roof over my head is as good a cause as any. And hey, death is an escape all its own. Just like you said - die for the cause, right?"
Alby gave a small smile, thinking that might rile the commander a bit. To his surprise, though, the commander wore a strangely introspective face.
"Hm. Indeed," he said.
Alby hesitated for a second, then spoke again.
"Did you... have a family?" he asked. "Loved ones? Someone who was waiting for you?"
He didn't think the commander would answer, but his stoic partner nodded.
"A wife, with a child on the way." he said.
Alby's eyes grew wide.
A family man, who would have thought.
"I'm... sorry, then." Alby said. "It can't be easy - leaving them behind."
The commander shook his head.
"There's nothing to regret. Everything has gone according to the Country's design - now, even in this land, we must continue to see their wishes through."
Alby sighed. He couldn't bring himself to contest the commander. The man seemed in denial at best over their plight, thinking that he had some great role to play even after losing his life, leaving his family behind…
But then again, maybe he really did have a purpose here. Alby had a strong suspicion that the commander was hiding something. Something important. Alby was suddenly reminded of the man's final words, back in the world of the living.
It wasn't supposed to be like this. It's too soon…
A desperate plea for survival? Or was it something more?
Alby wanted to ask him more questions, but the commander had already turned away, looking off into the distance. Alby shook his head in frustration, and decided to settle in for the night, knowing he wouldn't get any more out of the man.
Even as he tried to sleep, Alby's thoughts continued to linger on the commander, on the family he left behind..
Alby had no one to call family. Not anymore. His mother had died giving birth to him, his father following her lead when Alby was still young. With no other close relatives, Alby found himself living off scraps in the slums. The people there were many things, but hospitable and caring were not among them. Hell, he couldn't even blame them - everyone there could barely afford to look after themselves, let alone a child. It was kill or be killed, live selfishly or die trying to keep the weak alive.
Alby couldn't relate to the commander on many things, but having people to live for? That may have been their greatest difference of all.
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Another night passed without incident. The duo took turns keeping watch over their impromptu camp, then continued their travels once they were rested.
There was still nothing new in sight. The dunes began to vary and fluctuate in size, but no structures or signs of civilization were in sight. The strange mass of light high overhead continued its unnatural swirl, with more streaks of light shooting towards it every now and then.
The mere thought of it sent shivers down his spine.
The day went on. Hunger drove a knife into his belly - one that grew sharper with each hour. At this point, his mouth was beginning to feel as dry as the desert he walked on.
Alby spared a glance at the commander. If at first he looked only mildly inconvenienced by it, he was now actively struggling to carry all of his equipment. In fact, he was so slowed he even began to unload some of the excess, leaving a trail of various whetstones and knives in the dust behind him. By the end of the day, he was left with only his pair of swords. Not even his ornate armor remained - having been shed just so he could keep moving. Alby would have mocked the commander if he wasn't in a similar boat. He had dropped the chainmail tunic he wore, leaving him standing only in his trousers so as to preserve a shred of modesty.
Eventually the time came for the pair to take another rest. Alby drew the first watch again, letting the commander settle in as much as he could on the uncomfortable gray surface.
And just minutes after Alby settled into his own spot, prepared for yet another night of staring at the vast nothingness of the desert…
He heard a faint rattling of chains in the distance.