Following Harlen’s Trail

The sun hung low in the sky, its light distorted by a haze that seemed to cling to the air itself. The Waste stretched on endlessly, its cracked, ashen soil offering no comfort, no sign of life.

Dren squinted into the distance, his steps faltering as the sharp lines of an outcrop came into view. Something about it felt wrong, though he couldn’t say why.

“That’s where he went,” Anora said, her voice resolute.

Sani lagged behind, muttering, “And why do we care again? Harlen made his choice.”

Anora shot him a glare but didn’t respond.

As they approached, the figure slumped against the largest rock came into focus. Dren’s stomach twisted. Harlen.

His body was folded in on itself, knees drawn up, hands clutching at his chest as if fending off an unseen attack. The sight stopped them all in their tracks.

“Is he—?” Tanin’s voice trailed off, the question unnecessary.

Dren stepped forward, his hands trembling slightly. He crouched beside Harlen, reaching out to touch the man’s shoulder. His skin was ice-cold, his face locked in a contorted grimace that seemed more fear than pain.

“No wounds,” Dren murmured. “No blood. Nothing.”

Anora knelt beside him, her expression grim. “What could’ve done this?”

Sani shifted uneasily, his eyes scanning the horizon. “The Waste kills in ways we can’t see. Maybe he just… gave up.”

“Harlen doesn’t seem like the type to give up,,” Dren snapped, his voice sharper than he intended.

Tanin crouched a few feet away, inspecting the ground. “There’s no sign of a struggle. No tracks except his. It’s like he just… stopped.”

Anora stood, brushing dirt from her hands. “We need to bury him. We can’t leave him like this.”

Dren nodded, his throat tight. The group worked silently, digging a shallow grave in the unyielding soil. When it was done, they stood in uneasy quiet, the freshly turned earth a stark reminder of the danger they faced.

Anora broke the silence, her voice low but firm. “Whatever happened here, we keep moving. Staying here won’t give us answers.”

Dren glanced at Harlen’s grave one last time before turning away. The oppressive stillness of the Waste seemed to press down on them as they continued their march, the weight of unanswered questions following close behind.