The Silent Guide

As I stood amidst the wreckage of the battlefield, I suddenly heard a voice break through the eerie silence.

"Interesting."

Startled, I spun around, my heart racing, sword at the ready. Through the swirling smoke and haze, a figure emerged. At first, I thought she was just another ghost, another remnant of this forsaken place. But as she drew nearer, I realized this was no phantom.

It was an old woman, hunched and wrapped in worn, tattered rags. Her steps were slow but deliberate, as though she had walked this broken path for ages. Her face was deeply lined, each crease telling the story of countless years spent here. But it was her eyes that caught me off guard—sharp, clear, and full of knowledge, belying her frail appearance.

I tightened my grip on the sword, unsure of her intentions. "Who are you?" I asked, my voice steady but guarded.

She chuckled softly, a sound that seemed out of place in this wasteland. "Oh, warrior," she said, her voice hoarse yet calm, "put that sword down. It won't do you any good against me at my age."

She paused, her gaze flickering to the sword in my hand for just a moment before returning to meet mine. "As for who I am... the name is Mira. And I've been living here, in this very battlefield, for the past 120 years. Alone."

I was shocked to hear the age of the woman at first, but knowing that I was in another world, I had to expect the unexpected.

Lowering my sword, I realized how desperate I had become for company, even if it came from an unknown stranger.

Just as the tension between us began to fade, a sharp pain flared up from my elbow, radiating through my arm. I instinctively grabbed my shoulder, wincing as the injury from the earlier battle made itself known again.

Mira's sharp eyes caught the movement. "It seems you're hurt pretty badly," she observed, her tone calm but firm. "Why don't you come to my shelter? I've built a place not far from here. You can rest, eat, and heal."

For a moment, I hesitated. Trusting someone in this place felt dangerous. But exhaustion was weighing heavily on me, and the pain was becoming unbearable. I nodded slowly, knowing I didn't have many other options.

"Lead the way," I said, my voice softened with weariness.

We started walking together, a quiet and uneasy silence hanging between us. The battlefield's haunting atmosphere weighed down on us, but neither of us spoke a word. The only sound was the crunch of debris underfoot as we made our way through the desolate landscape.

After what felt like an eternity, Mira led me to a small, inconspicuous cave entrance hidden among the rubble. From the outside, it looked like little more than a cramped, dark hole in the ground. I had to crouch to enter, following Mira's slow, deliberate steps into the cave.

But as I stepped inside, what I saw left me speechless.

The cave opened up into a vast, expansive space that defied all logic. It was impossibly large, stretching far beyond what the outside suggested. The walls were smooth, lined with strange, glowing stones that illuminated the entire area. The air inside was cool, fresh, a stark contrast to the battlefield's harsh, burnt smell.

And then, there was the décor. I was stunned to see that this underground cavern had everything that resembled a modern-style home. There was furniture—actual chairs, tables, and even shelves filled with books and tools. A fire crackled in a stone hearth, casting a warm glow across the space. In one corner, I noticed what looked like a makeshift kitchen, complete with pots and pans. The floor was covered in rugs, soft under my boots, and there were even lamps that hummed with an otherworldly energy.

"This... this is your home?" I asked, my voice filled with disbelief.

Mira gave me a faint smile. "It's not much, but it's kept me alive for over a century."

"Are you not scared of me?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. I was conscious of the half of my face that was burned, the scars a constant reminder of the battles I had fought and lost.

Mira looked at me with those piercing, wise eyes and chuckled softly. "Scared of you?" she said, her voice calm, almost soothing. "What is there to be scared about? I've lived through more gruesome sights and seen injuries far worse than yours in my long life."

Her words gave me an unexpected sense of relief, as if a weight I hadn't realized I was carrying had been lifted. I allowed myself to exhale, feeling a small bit of tension ease from my shoulders.

Spotting an empty space against the wall, I walked over to set my sword down. The blade clinked softly as I leaned it against the stone surface, grateful to be rid of its weight for a moment.

But just as I let go of the sword, the room plunged into sudden darkness.

The fire in the hearth extinguished instantly, and the glow from the strange stones in the walls dimmed as if swallowed by an unseen force. The warmth and light that had filled the cavern vanished, leaving us in a chilling, impenetrable blackness.

I froze, every muscle tensed, my heart pounding in my chest. "Mira?" I called out, my voice tight with uncertainty.

For a moment, there was no response—just the unsettling quiet of the pitch-black cave. Then, Mira's voice came, steady and calm, cutting through the darkness.

"Interesting..." she muttered again.

"Could you please keep your sword tied to yourself for now?" Mira said, her voice steady but her gaze sharp, locking onto mine. "What you need is a scabbard to cover that sword and control its power. Without it, you won't be able to live in this world."

Her words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. I glanced down at the sword, its imperfections now more apparent than ever, and without hesitation, I wrapped it back around my waist. As soon as the blade touched my side again, the darkness lifted. The fire in the hearth rekindled, the light returned, and the cave resumed its previous warmth and glow, as though the unsettling moment had never happened.

Mira approached me slowly, her expression softening. "I think you should get cleaned up first," she said, wrinkling her nose slightly. "You're smelling quite… ripe after your battles. Once you've freshened up, I'll prepare some food and tend to those injuries of yours."

I nodded, feeling both the exhaustion and the relief settle in. I had survived another battle, but now, in this strange sanctuary, I was finally offered a moment to rest and heal.

Mira extended her hand, and with a subtle flick, clothes materialized out of thin air. My mind buzzed with envy—why couldn't I do something like that? It looked far more impressive than anything I had managed with my sword.

She handed me the clothes, and I quickly left to freshen up. When I returned, feeling somewhat human again, Mira was seated by the fire on an old but comfortable-looking couch. She glanced up and, with a slight nod, gestured for me to join her. Without a word, I sat down beside her and reached for the bowl of porridge she had prepared. The warmth of the meal spread through me as I began eating in silence.

The quiet stretched on, the crackle of the fire the only sound between us. Eventually, unable to bear the stillness, I broke the silence.

"What is this place?" I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

Mira leaned back slightly, her sharp eyes reflecting the flickering flames. "This place..." she began, her voice calm yet thoughtful. "It's a forgotten corner of the world, a relic of a time when battles raged and lives were lost. A place where the past refuses to stay buried."

She paused, her gaze distant, as though she was recalling a memory from long ago. "The battlefield you walked through was once a place of great power, but now it's nothing more than ruins. A graveyard for the foolish and the brave."

I felt a shiver run down my spine. There was more to this place than I had realized. "And you? How did you come to live here?"

"Just like everyone fighting on the battlefield I was also the part of it but luckily I survived and uptill now I am living here"

"Did you not tried to get out of these battlefield?" I questioned her as there is no sane person who will live here.

"I want to, but I can't," Mira said, her voice low as she stared into the fire, the flickering flames casting an eerie glow on her ancient face. "There's an ancient teleportation device far from here. It could take us out of this battlefield, across the world. But the journey to it is filled with monsters. I alone wouldn't survive." She paused, her fingers absently moving the firewood. "And even if I do make it... there's the Archwarden."

I watched Mira carefully, still processing everything she had said. Her face, as wrinkled and worn as it was, held a depth of knowledge I couldn't begin to fathom. She reached for another piece of firewood and placed it on the embers. The crackling fire cast long shadows over her tired face.

"The Archwarden," she said softly, her eyes distant. "This battlefield is his domain. He's not just another monster. He's the one that binds this place together. He keeps all of us here—trapped."

A silence hung between us for a moment. The weight of her words settled in.

Mira's eyes remained fixed on the fire as she spoke, her voice laced with a quiet, bitter edge. "So, the best option is to sit here and wait for death to come?" She shook her head slowly, as if the question itself was a painful reality she had long come to terms with. "That's what most do, you know. They sit and wait, hoping for an end that never comes."

She walked over to where I sat, kneeling beside me with a calm determination. "Let me treat your injuries."

As she bandaged my shoulders, the rhythmic motion of her hands felt almost reassuring. Her touch was surprisingly gentle, despite the years of hardship she'd endured.

Once she finished, Mira moved to the fire, sitting down with a soft sigh. "Sleep. You need it."

I wanted to say more, to ask her about the things she had hinted at, but she simply got up and walked to a room, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I lay back, the exhaustion pressing down on me like a physical weight. Closing my eyes, I replayed everything Mira had told me. "I didn't want to spend the rest of my life here," I thought, feeling the weight of that looming future. "But sometimes, they say, you need to sit still and let your mind settle before you can think clearly."