As Raynard fixed his gaze on the phantom, its form appeared to emit an inner radiance, enveloping him in a comforting embrace of warm light. He couldn't help but notice the striking resemblance between the phantom's features and his own, its expression exuding serene tranquility.
"The time of reckoning has come," echoed the phantom's voice in Raynard's mind, its words carrying a weighty significance. Raynard's anticipation mingled with a tinge of apprehension as he awaited further explanation.
"What do you mean?" Raynard inquired, his impatience evident in his voice. "What is happening to my friends?"
The phantom regarded him with an enigmatic gaze, its eyes penetrating deep into his soul. "You are weak," it cryptically replied, its voice resonating in the silent expanse between them. "Your strength lies not in your physical prowess."
Raynard's brow furrowed in confusion at the phantom's words, his mind struggling to grasp their meaning. "Then where does my strength lie?" he demanded, frustration creeping into his voice.
The phantom's expression remained impassive, bathed in an ethereal glow. "Your awakening was not complete," it solemnly intoned, its words hanging in the air like a heavy fog. "It won't be now, nor in the upcoming future. Your ■ ■ ■ Ebonwood."
A cryptic disturbance interrupted the phantom's words, halting its message abruptly.
"Oh, it seems like I have overstepped my boundaries…" whispered the phantom next.
"Anyways, not like you'll remember any of this either way. What you do need to know is that… ■ ■ ■"
A blinding flash engulfed the dreamscape, leaving Raynard disoriented and confused upon opening his eyes amidst the soldiers lining up for their march.
"Wha…"
Confusion.
Raynard scanned his surroundings frantically, struggling to recall speaking to someone… something?
But all he could remember was a blinding light and nothing else.
"You okay, Ray?"
He turned around to find the striking figure of Emma, with her long, flowing blond hair that cascaded down her back in gentle waves, catching the sunlight in a shimmering cascade of golden hues, looking at him worriedly. Her piercing blue eyes, that seemed like they could see through anyone or anything were now showing worry…
Her voice interrupting his thoughts,
"Ye-yeah, I'm fine," he replied hurriedly, the remnants of confusion lingering in his mind as he tried to piece together his fragmented memories.
"I have never seen you look this pale, are you sure you are okay?" Emma asked, her concern evident.
Before Raynard could respond, Commander Ethann's voice rang out, signaling the start of their march.
As the soldiers gathered in formation, Raynard shook off his lingering confusion and focused on the task at hand. With each step, the rhythmic sound of boots hitting the ground echoed in his ears, a steady cadence that propelled them forward.
The march was long and arduous, the sun beating down on them relentlessly as they trudged through the rugged terrain. Sweat dripped down Raynard's brow, mingling with the dust kicked up by their boots as they pressed on toward their destination.
Along the way, they encountered numerous obstacles – fallen trees, rocky outcrops, and treacherous ravines – but they persevered, their determination unwavering in the face of adversity.
As they drew nearer to their destination, the tension in the air grew palpable, a tangible sense of anticipation hanging over the ranks of soldiers.
Raynard could feel the weight of responsibility and confusion pressing down on him, his every movement fueled by a fierce determination to see their mission through to its end, while a part of him was apprehensive.
.
.
.
As Commander Ethann signaled for the soldiers to set up camp, the weary troops took a moment to catch their breath before beginning to erect their tents.
Raynard seized this opportunity to approach a towering figure amidst the chaos, a soldier with vibrant green hair and a burly physique that belied his youthful appearance.
There was an air of mystique about him that drew Raynard's attention.
"Liam," Raynard called out to the soldier, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "Do you feel as lost and confused as I do?"
Liam turned to face Raynard, his emerald eyes reflecting the weariness of a seasoned warrior. "Aye," he replied solemnly, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "But we cannot afford to dwell on our doubts now. We must press on and face whatever challenges lie ahead."
Raynard nodded in agreement, though he couldn't shake the feeling that their confusion wasn't entirely the same. As night fell, an eerie sense of deja vu washed over him, leaving him unsettled amidst the encroaching darkness.
As night descended upon the camp, casting long shadows across the forest, a palpable sense of unease settled over the weary soldiers. The flickering light of the campfires cast dancing shadows upon the trees, their twisted forms looming like specters in the darkness.
Raynard couldn't shake the feeling of foreboding that clung to the air like a suffocating shroud. It felt as though the very fabric of reality was unraveling around him, leaving him adrift in a sea of uncertainty.
As he looked around at the faces of his comrades, he saw the same apprehension mirrored in their eyes. They were seasoned warriors, accustomed to facing danger head-on, but this was different. This was something beyond the realm of mortal understanding, something ancient and primal that stirred in the depths of the forest.
Liam, ever the stalwart leader, stood at the edge of the camp, his green hair illuminated by the flickering light of the fire. Despite his outward composure, Raynard could see the tension in his shoulders, the furrowed brow that betrayed his inner turmoil.
"Are you alright, Liam?" Raynard asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching them from the shadows, something malevolent and hungry.
Liam turned to face him, his expression grave. "I don't know, Ray," he replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "There's something... off about this place. I can feel it in my bones."
Raynard nodded, his heart pounding in his chest as he scanned the darkness beyond the edge of the camp. He felt as though they were being watched, scrutinized by unseen eyes that glinted in the darkness.
Suddenly, a rustling sound echoed through the trees, sending a shiver down Raynard's spine. He gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, his senses on high alert as he scanned the forest for any sign of movement.
But the forest remained eerily silent, the only sound the crackling of the campfire and the faint rustle of leaves in the wind. It was as though whatever had been lurking in the shadows had vanished without a trace, leaving behind only a lingering sense of dread.
As the night wore on, Raynard found himself unable to shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at the edges of his consciousness. He knew that sleep would not come easily tonight, not with the specter of danger lurking just beyond the edge of the camp.
As the fire burned low and the night grew darker, Raynard steeled himself for whatever the night may bring, not knowing that this feeling of unrest would not go away anytime soon…
This was Raynaud's first of what would become many 'returns'.
At this point in time he didn't know that this feeling of unease he felt would become a feeling he would later become accustomed to.
This would be the start of a horrifying nightmare. A nightmare that would engulf him whole.