When Andrew woke up, he noticed the sky was dim. It had to be night, though he had no idea what the exact time was. He could not move at all, and although his mind was clear, every part of his body refused to respond.

He knew this was the aftermath of injuries that were far too severe.

His greatsword, Godslayer, was nowhere to be found. A spike of panic hit him, and he forced his neck to turn, even though it sent pain ripping through him.

All he saw was a silent, empty stretch of wilderness he did not recognize. He was propped against a large boulder, and beside him a small campfire crackled quietly.

"You're awake. How do you feel?" a tense voice suddenly asked beside him, filled with concern and worry.

Andrew instinctively called out, "Aspen, is that you?"

The person fell silent for a moment before replying flatly, "I'm not Aspen."

Footsteps approached from behind him, and a tall, slender figure walked into view. She was carrying a few sticks of firewood.

Valerie!

Andrew was