chapter 12.5

The winding path stretched between towering trees, their branches swaying gently with the passing breeze. The rhythmic clatter of hooves against damp soil was the only sound breaking the eerie silence that hung in the air. The ground, still soft from last night's rain, carried the rich scent of wet earth mixed with the fading fragrance of drying leaves beneath the veiled sunlight. The sky remained overcast, casting a muted glow upon their journey, while the occasional rustle of shifting foliage whispered like unseen voices hidden within the forest's depths.

Arwen rode with poise atop her white steed, her gaze locked onto Alcard's back as he led the way ahead. Their previous conversation lingered in her mind, filling her with unanswered questions. The quiet weight of curiosity grew unbearable until she finally spoke, her voice gentle but deliberate enough to be heard over the soft rustling of the wind.

"Alcard," she called, her tone cautious. "Earlier, you said Bloody Potion is both a blessing and a curse. What did you mean by that? Are there side effects?"

Alcard slowed his horse slightly, his silence stretching between them as if debating how much he should reveal. He turned his head just enough to glance at her, his crimson eyes unreadable. There was a pause—long enough for her to notice the fleeting hesitance in his gaze—before he finally exhaled a slow breath.

"Bloody Potion grants us strength," he admitted, his voice steady but deeper than usual. "It allows us to fight against the monsters from the South. Without it, we wouldn't survive. But like anything that seems too good, it comes with a price."

Arwen frowned slightly, sensing an underlying gravity to his words. "A price? You mean, there's a cost for using it?"

Alcard directed his attention back to the road, his posture remaining vigilant as he elaborated. "If consumed too often, or in the wrong dosage, Bloody Potion begins to break down the body from within. The blood thickens, clotting in the veins, causing pain so unbearable it feels like your heart is exploding. Some lose control over their bodies, plagued by hallucinations and agony beyond measure. Others go mad before meeting an excruciating death."

His words settled between them like a lingering shadow, pressing against the once peaceful atmosphere. Arwen stared at him, her brows drawn together in concern. "That's… horrifying," she whispered. "And you all have to drink it regularly?"

Alcard shook his head slightly, guiding his horse to firmer ground. "Not too often," he clarified. "We only take it once every few months, just enough to keep us strong. But the choice isn't entirely ours. Without it, our bodies weaken far too quickly. So you see, it binds us like chains. That's what makes it a curse."

Arwen released a slow breath, trying to comprehend the weight of his words. All her life, she had been taught that The Wall was a mighty stronghold standing between Middle Earth and the horrors beyond. But no one had ever spoken of the sacrifices required to maintain that defense.

After a brief silence, she spoke again, her curiosity still unquenched. "Who makes Bloody Potion? Do all Outcasts know how to brew it?"

A humorless smirk tugged at the corner of Alcard's lips, devoid of warmth. "Not everyone knows," he said. "Only a select few in The Wall have that knowledge. Oldman is one of them." His voice carried a distant weight as he continued, "Even I don't know the full process. What I do know is that the ingredients are rare and can only be found in the South. That's why expeditions into those lands are always our top priority. And that's also why many of us never return."

Arwen gave a slow nod, absorbing the implications of his words. Life in The Wall was far grimmer than she had ever imagined. The Outcasts weren't just warriors battling the darkness; they were also prisoners to a lifeline that came with its own torment.

Wanting to steer the conversation away from the heaviness settling between them, Arwen attempted a different topic. "Then, what about the social order in The Wall?" she asked, hoping to lighten the mood. "Is there politics among you? Power struggles, like in the kingdoms?"

Alcard chuckled softly—more like a breath escaping through his nose than an actual laugh. "Politics?" he echoed, a touch of mockery in his tone. "There's no such thing in The Wall, Arwen. We're too busy staying alive to care about who holds power."

She blinked in mild surprise. "None at all?"

He shook his head, his gaze never leaving the road ahead. "Every day is a fight. Every night is a battle. There's no room for ambition or power struggles. We are all bound by the same fate, forced together by a world that discarded us."

Arwen fell silent, mulling over his words. The world she knew was built on schemes, manipulation, and the endless pursuit of control. But here, in The Wall, everything was stripped down to its most basic form—survival. "So… your life is only about enduring?" she asked softly.

Alcard glanced at her briefly, his red eyes glinting with something unreadable. "Enduring and protecting," he corrected. "The world may not care about us, but that doesn't stop us from doing our duty. We are the last barrier between Middle Earth and annihilation."

His words echoed within her, settling deep in her thoughts. For the first time, she saw him not just as an Outcast, but as a soldier burdened with a duty that no one acknowledged.

As the sky began to shift into deep shades of orange and red, Alcard remained focused, leading their path forward. Arwen, however, remained lost in contemplation.

The Wall wasn't just a final defense—it was a symbol of sacrifice, one that the rest of the world chose to ignore.

The journey continued in silence, but the air between them had changed. Arwen no longer felt like she was merely traveling with a hired protector. She was walking alongside someone who had given everything for a world that had abandoned him.

As night slowly took over the sky, their horses moved steadily through the twilight, guided by the path that stretched endlessly before them.

Arwen knew this journey wasn't just about reaching Edenvila anymore.

It was about uncovering truths she had never dared to seek.

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