A Path Unseen

Morning came slowly.

Asvorn lay in the softest bed he had ever touched, staring at the wooden ceiling above him. The scent of fresh linen surrounded him. It felt… unreal.

Yesterday, he was nothing. Sleeping on dirt, starving, being laughed at.

Now, he was in a warm room, his stomach full, his body resting properly for the first time in years.

And it was all because of her.

Lyara.

He sat up, rubbing his face. The events of the night before played over and over in his head.

She saved his life. Fed him. Paid for his room.

Why?

She had no reason to. People like her didn't even glance at people like him. But she helped him without hesitation.

Asvorn exhaled, feeling the weight of it all settle in his chest.

I need to thank her.

The common hall of the inn was lively in the morning. Adventurers sat around, talking, eating, and preparing for their day.

Asvorn spotted Lyara sitting near a window, calmly drinking from a cup. Sunlight streamed in, casting a glow on her dark violet hair.

He walked over, hesitating for a second before speaking.

"Uh… good morning."

She glanced up, raising an eyebrow. "You're alive."

He let out a small chuckle. "Yeah… I am."

There was an awkward pause before he continued. "I just wanted to say… thank you."

She set her cup down. "For what?"

"For saving my life. For helping me. For… everything."

Lyara studied him for a moment, then shrugged. "It wasn't a big deal."

"It was to me," he said, his voice firm. "If you hadn't been there, I would've died."

She didn't respond immediately. Instead, she leaned back in her chair, watching him with an unreadable expression.

"So what now?" she finally asked.

Asvorn swallowed. "I… I want to get stronger."

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Why?"

The answer came easily. "Because I don't want to be worthless anymore."

Lyara sighed, shaking her head. "That's a vague reason."

Asvorn clenched his fists. "I want to be able to stand beside you."

For the first time, Lyara looked surprised. It was brief—just a flicker in her golden eyes—but he saw it.

Then, she smirked. "Hah. That's a bold thing to say for someone who got nearly eaten by a Dire Fang."

Asvorn scratched his cheek, embarrassed. "I know. But… I can't stay like this. I need to do something."

Lyara didn't laugh at him. She didn't mock him.

She just nodded. "Then go do it."

It was that simple.

His next job was another gathering quest. Nothing dangerous. Just collecting herbs in the forest.

Boring. But safe.

Asvorn took the request and left the city, walking down the dirt road leading back to the woods.

He was different from yesterday.

He had eaten. He had rested. His body still felt weak, but it was better.

And his mind was clearer.

As he searched for the herbs, he kept thinking about Lyara. The way she moved, the way she fought.

I want to be like that.

No… I want to be strong enough to stand beside her.

He didn't know how. He had no talent. No bloodline. Nothing.

But still—

He wanted it.

The thought burned in his chest.

The wind shifted.

Asvorn paused, gripping the strap of his bag. Something felt… off.

The forest was quiet. No birds. No rustling leaves.

His skin prickled.

Then—

A scent. Faint. Almost hidden.

Smoke.

His feet moved on their own. He followed the smell, pushing through the thick underbrush.

Minutes passed. Then, he saw it.

A cave.

The entrance was hidden behind tangled vines, its mouth yawning like a dark abyss.

The smell of smoke was stronger here, but there was no fire. No embers.

Just an overwhelming feeling that this place was… different.

His heart pounded.

The air around the cave felt heavy, like it was pressing against his skin.

What is this place…?

He took a cautious step forward.

Then another.

The darkness inside seemed to call to him.

His breathing quickened.

Every instinct screamed at him to turn back. To run.

But his legs wouldn't move.

He swallowed hard, staring into the abyss.

And then—

Something moved inside.

The shadows shifted.

A low whisper echoed from the depths.

His blood ran cold.

And yet…

He took another step.

Closer.

His fingers twitched.

Then—

Darkness swallowed him whole.