Shadows of War (Part 1)

Several hours later, I found myself tiptoeing into the lake, a sharp gasp escaping my lips as icy water coiled around my ankles like shackles. My teeth clenched on instinct, muscles locking up against the shock.

"Argh! Why is the water so damn cold?!" My voice cracked across the empty shore, the sound swallowed by the night, but I didn't care—I was already suffering.

I hadn't even planned on bathing, but a cursed cricket had decided to land on my face in the middle of the night, effectively shattering any chance of sleep. After days without a proper wash, I was sticky with sweat, grime clinging to my skin like a second layer. With most of the camp asleep and only a few standing guard, I seized the moment and slipped away. My dignity was in shambles, and my hygiene? Officially dead. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

But the water? It was trying to murder me.

A violent shudder wracked my frame as I forced myself deeper, the icy grip of the lake sinking into my bones. Is this what dying feels like? My hands trembled as I scrubbed myself with frantic speed, fully convinced that if I lingered even a second longer, hypothermia would claim my soul.

Every few seconds, I peeked over the jagged rocks, paranoia crawling up my spine. What if someone stumbled upon me like this? Half-drowned, dripping, shivering like a pathetic rat pulled from a storm drain? The thought alone was enough to make me want to evaporate on the spot.

The moment I staggered out of the lake, I dressed with the urgency of a fugitive escaping certain doom, wrapping myself in every dry scrap of clothing I owned. My fingers barely worked, stiff with cold, and my lips felt numb, but at least I was somewhat clean. Kind of.

I shuffled back to the firepit, curling in on myself as I huddled close to the dwindling embers, desperate for warmth. Useless. My body refused to cooperate, and my damp hair clung to my face like a soggy mop, adding insult to injury. Maybe—just maybe—if I caught a cold, they'd let me rest for a day.

Of course, my immune system had other plans.

"Even my own body is against me," I grumbled before sleep finally dragged me under.

"—Tuk…"

A voice wove through my dreams, distant at first.

"Tuk, wake up!"

I jolted awake with a sharp inhale, heart slamming against my ribs. My hands flew out, instinctively clutching onto something—someone. It took my dazed mind a few seconds to register that it was Leon, his clothes bunched up in my fists as if I were ready to swing.

The nightmare still clung to me, its echoes curling in the back of my skull. That faceless, grinning thing from my first day in this world—it had been creeping closer, whispering.

This place… it just kept gifting me new traumas.

"Are you okay?" Leon's voice was gentle, but urgency laced his tone. "Sorry for waking you so abruptly, but we have to go now."

I wiped the cold sweat from my forehead, still disoriented. Around me, the camp buzzed with movement—tents being packed up, warriors strapping on their gear.

"Everyone's been preparing. We're entering the border of Homonhon."

Ah, right… war. Maybe that's why I dreamed of that scene again.

Leon offered a small, amused smile as he helped me up. "By the way, I didn't know you had curly hair. That's rare—but it suits you."

My hand flew to my head. Damn it. I forgot to tie my hair before sleeping. The damp strands had dried into a tangled mess, wild and untamed from last night's lake bath. I fumbled to fix it while trudging after Leon, my body leaden with exhaustion.

I should've cut it when I had the chance.

Keeping long hair in this kind of environment was a nightmare.

***

As we traveled, the scenery couldn't seem to decide what season it wanted to be. Some trees had autumn leaves, others bloomed like it was spring. The ground kept switching between rock-hard and summer-mud levels of squishy.

The warriors? They didn't even blink at the weirdness. They barely reacted to the strange creatures rustling in the bushes, lurking in the trees—meanwhile, I jumped at every twig snap.

But what really tested my sanity? Every single lake, river, or waterfall we passed.

Like clockwork, the warriors would strip down and dive in, utterly unbothered by the fact that they were, well… free in the breeze.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't not notice. My brain shrieked every time, but I bit my tongue—causing a scene would only make things so much worse.

Just meditate, I told myself. This is normal. Think of it as some weird Adam-and-Eve era.

Yeah. Sure. Totally normal.

***

After what felt like an eternity of trudging through dense forest, the trees abruptly gave way to an endless expanse of ice and snow. The stark contrast made my head spin. One moment, we were surrounded by towering trees and damp earth, the next, we were standing in a frozen wasteland. The sun glared down harshly, yet the wind cut through my cloak like a blade.

Wait—why is it snowing now?

The thought barely had time to settle before the commander's voice rang through the cold air, sharp and commanding.

"Heads up, warriors! Any moment now, the battle begins. Keep your spirits high and show them the strength of the empire!"

"FOR THE EMPIRE!" The warriors' roar shook the icy ground, their voices thunderous with conviction.

I couldn't bring myself to join them.

All I could think of was the end.

Please, just let this end.