Vision

“You know,” Haruki said, glancing at her from the corner of his eye, “you don’t have to follow me. You told me you were just in the capital to restock supplies, didn’t you?”

Kiera shrugged, smirking. “Yeah, well. Not like every day I get to meet an alien from another planet.”

“Alien’s kind of a strong word,” Haruki muttered. “I don’t even have antennas.”

“Anten-what now?”

“Oh, right, of course. You wouldn’t know. On Earth, we have these movies about creatures from outer space. Green-skinned men with huge heads, big black eyes, antennas, and a lot of sci-fi doohickeys.”

“You’re losing me there. Continue.”

“They travel with their spaceships, and usually these ships have huge laser cannons. Which are basically cannons firing off rays of burning light. That’s the stereotypical image of these aliens anyway.”

“I see,” Kiera tapped her chin. “Well, we’ve got our fair share of trashy fiction on Sunpeak as well. Stories about outsiders from beyond the stars. But here, they’re a lot less green and a lot more… well…”

She raised her palm, and flame bloomed there like a living ember. It coalesced, sculpting itself into the grotesque outline of a hunched creature. The head was bulbous, and its eyes sunken into a glassy exterior, with fins curling awkwardly at the side of its neck. Here, Haruki was looking at a misshapen fish-man, with sharp teeth jutting from its crooked mouth.

She held the fiery construct between them, letting it twist its head unnaturally to leer at Haruki.

“They’re usually more like this. Slimy, cold-blooded fish people, with the kind of faces only a mother could love.”

She then grinned:

“I modeled his face after you, by the way.”

Haruki stared at the monster, deadpan. Before bursting forth:

“Hey, now! My head isn’t that round. This looks like a tumor. You should get your eyes checked.”

Kiera laughed, snapping her fingers, and the fish-man dissolved into sparks. Before she continued mocking him by summoning forth a construct of an oversized spyglass. Looking in the distance, she giggled:

“I can see plenty well, thank you very much. I can even see the future, too. Rapid aging, early balding, you look pretty good there, buddy.”

He shook his head, smiling despite himself. But as they walked over a hill…

Something shifted.

The air seemed to thin, like the world itself was turning off its lights. Haruki’s sight tunneled, and suddenly the open fields and sky vanished. He stood in an ethereal place, seeing what seemed like a lonely cottage in the woods. Its walls were pale and weathered by time. Smoke curled faintly from its chimney, and within, warm light flickered.

He could hear faint voices, soft and mundane, two people speaking with the ease of family. It was a picture of peace, small and fragile.

Then, without warning, that peace was shattered. The wall instantly cracked inward, splinters flying like shrapnel. A leg then came into view – long, jointed, bristling with coarse black hair – now forcing its way through. Then another, and another after that. Before finally revealing:

A spider!

Impossibly large, with its mandibles clicking as it squeezed its grotesque bulk through the opening. The voices inside turned to screams, sharp and terrified, echoing in Haruki’s skull.

Soon after the attack, Haruki returned to where he was – walking behind Kiera. As if nothing had happened. The vision had dissolved into mist.

For a moment, his heart still hammered against his ribs. His palms felt clammy, and his throat was drying. But slapping himself awake, he told himself firmly that – he was simply tired. Nothing more, nothing less.

He really did not want to deal with this now. He told himself that it wouldn’t have mattered anyway.

Nothing he did ever seemed to matter.

So he forced his steps into rhythm with Kiera’s once more.

The road sloped gently downward as they passed through the weathered gates of the village, its collection of timber-framed houses bathed in the soft amber light of late afternoon. Smoke curled lazily from chimneys, the scent of woodfire and simmering stew carried on a cool breeze.

Haruki spotted Deacon Loto almost immediately, standing near the well talking to the villagers, his posture remaining calm yet firm and subtly watchful of all things around in that unassuming way that made him seem to belong everywhere and nowhere all at once.

“Ah, you made it.” Loto’s expression warmed, and he approached after saying goodbye to the villagers. “Sorry I didn’t meet you in the city. Got called away on urgent business. All taken care of now.”

“That’s okay,” Haruki said sheepishly. “I… really just need some help.”

“Yes, that I promised you. Let us go back to the capital then. Will your friend here be tagging along with us as well?”

Kiera straightened up and dusted herself off before extending her hand to shake.

“Pleased to meet you, sir. My name is Kiera. I’m a Follower.”

Loto nodded, smiling:

“Pleasure is all mine.”

Kiera then scratched her head, turning to Haruki:

“Well, you’re probably going to be safe now in his hands. So I guess you don’t need me anymore.”

“Well, we find safety in numbers,” Loto stepped in. “You’re free to join us on the way back if you wish. That is, of course, if you have nothing else planned. I would like to compensate you for your time anyway.”

“Oh, that’s nice of you, sir. I…”

Then, slicing through the evening calm, a scream tore through the air.

It came from far off, echoing faintly over the fields, but it was sharp enough to still the entire street. A dog started barking frantically, a window shutter slammed closed, and the faint laughter from moments ago vanished like mist. Haruki instantly froze. The sound now pressing onto him like a needle. Kiera, on the other hand, readied herself, with her hands now warming up with fire.

And that same fighting spirit could be seen in Deacon Loto’s eyes. But there was also a cautious anxiety subtly hidden within.