The first light of morning painted golden streaks across the pale mist, softening the moss-covered trail with a gentle glow. The earthy scent of the forest faded, replaced by the smell of smoke, rusted metal, and dried grain—signs of civilization.
[Kael]
The village looks… fragile.
Kael walked in silence. His boots, caked in dried mud, sank slightly into the packed dirt path. His body ached after nights of restless sleep in caves and clearings, but his gaze remained steady.
"Nerath."
The name echoed with the weight of an ancient omen. Just a name among many, yet now it felt like an unlikely refuge—or another trial.
Two poorly armed guards at the entrance eyed him with suspicion. One raised his spear with forced bravado.
Guard (Joren):
"Stranger from the woods? Got a name?"
Kael stopped, lifting his eyes.
Kael:
"Kael. Just Kael."
[Joren]
"This one's seen ugly things. But his eyes don't waver."
Joren—the younger guard—gripped his spear with damp fingers. His mouth was dry. The stranger was too calm. Tired, yes, but with the same rigidity as veteran warriors.
The other guard, Barun, scratched his beard and grunted:
Barun:
"Ain't a good time for wanderers. Animals've gone missing. People too. And those left… don't trust easy."
Kael studied them, then glanced around. Children peeked through gaps in the wooden houses. Women gathered herbs or hauled firewood with downcast eyes. The air carried an ancient kind of fear—not of the unknown, but of the inevitable.
Kael:
"I'm not here to bring trouble. Just answers. And maybe… a reason to keep walking."
[Maiven]
His voice is firm. But something's broken in it.
A woman with wheat-colored hair appeared beside the gate. She wore simple, elegant robes adorned with copper leaf brooches. Her eyes swept over Kael—from his mud-stained boots to the storm hidden behind his gaze.
Maiven:
"Let him pass."
The guards hesitated but obeyed.
Maiven:
"I'm Maiven. Healer and watcher of this village."
Kael:
"I've heard your name. A man in the woods said I might find help here."
Maiven:
"An elf, perhaps?"
Kael:
"Something… like that."
She didn't smile, but the corner of her lips twitched. "Either he's a fool with luck or a fool with a secret."
Maiven:
"If you stay, you'll need to prove you're not a burden. Or a threat."
[Kael]
Tests. Always tests. But maybe… that's fair. I'd do the same.
He followed her past stone houses with dried herbs hanging from the eaves. He felt eyes on his back—some wary, others hungry for change.
Kael:
"The village is isolated?"
Maiven:
"The nearest trade road was blocked by landslides. And… no one comes here when curse rumors spread." She glanced at the treeline. "The howls at night aren't from ordinary wolves. And by morning, someone—or something—is always gone."
They stopped before a larger hut near an ivy-covered altar. A tall, broad-shouldered man emerged from the shadows. His left arm was bandaged, his dark hair tied back with a red cloth.
Maiven:
"This is Vaelen. Our protector."
[Vaelen]
Lean stranger, but not weak. Moves like a fighter, breathes like a survivor.
Vaelen crossed his arms.
Vaelen:
"Another drifter seeking redemption or glory?"
Kael:
"Neither. Just answers."
A direct reply. No posturing. A good sign. But words aren't enough.
Vaelen:
"Words mean nothing here. Show me what you're made of."
Without warning, he tossed Kael a wooden staff.
Vaelen:
"Come. No blades. Let's see if your body backs up your mouth."
[Kael]
He caught the staff. Tested its weight. Adjusted his stance.
Open guard. Left arm forward. Short breaths. Observe first… then act.
Vaelen struck—no hesitation, no mercy. A downward swing. Kael sidestepped, spinning the staff to block the next attack. The impact reverberated through his bones.
[Vaelen]
Clean blocks. Precise counters. No hesitation. This isn't some rookie.
He feinted, testing Kael's reactions. Every counter was measured—not brute force, but precision.
[Kael]
His feet are heavy. Aggressive stance masking defense. If I open his left flank…
He pivoted, using his elbow to redirect the staff, forcing Vaelen back. A strike to the thigh. Not deep—but a warning.
The square buzzed with murmurs.
[Maiven]
He thinks like a warrior. But doesn't fight like a brute. That's… rare.
Vaelen, panting, dropped his staff.
Vaelen:
"Enough."
Kael:
"I just want to help."
Vaelen:
"Help has a price. And trust… is the steepest of all."
[Kael]
Then make me pay. But don't ask me to turn my back.
[Maiven]
In the distance, wind chimes made of bones and twigs rattled. Maiven led Kael silently past humble shacks. Some villagers watched through cracks; others pretended not to see. Distrust clung like mold to every doorframe.
Maiven (to Vaelen, low):
"You tested him too soon."
Vaelen (eyes on Kael):
"Better to know what he's made of while we can still control him."
[Kael]
Control, huh?
Kael kept his face neutral, but inside, his father's voice thundered:
"A true noble never seeks control. He inspires trust—even in those with reason to fear him."
But that… was a long time ago.
Kael:
"Where do the attacks happen?"
Maiven:
"North and east borders. Creatures come at night—always different. Always hungry." Her voice tightened. "Our defenses are failing. And our hunters… are dying."
They entered a log-reinforced building. Inside, two wounded men and a child lay on makeshift beds. The air reeked of dried blood, bitter salves, and burnt herbs.
[Vaelen]
Even now, he doesn't look at them with pity. Or horror. Just… purpose.
Vaelen watched Kael kneel beside a youth clawed across the abdomen.
Kael:
"This wasn't done by any normal beast."
Maiven:
"Nor by just one. There's magic in these wounds. But we can't trace it."
Kael:
"I can try. But I'll need to go out at night."
Vaelen scoffed.
Vaelen:
"You volunteering as bait?"
Kael:
"I've been worse."
[Kael]
The pain of a claw is quick. The pain of loss… that never fades.
As he examined the wounds, memories surfaced unbidden: Elene, her hair matted with blood, sprawled in rubble; Lyara, guilt in her eyes, forcing a smile for his sake; and his father, frozen in stone and legend.
He closed his eyes.
Not here. Not again.
[Vaelen]
Night fell with cruel speed. Ground-hugging mist draped the village like a funeral shroud. Vaelen led Kael to the palisade marking the forest's edge.
Vaelen:
"Stay within the torchlight. Step beyond, and not even I can protect you."
Kael (drawing a short sword):
"I'm not expecting protection."
The blade was plain, unadorned. But as he gripped it, a faint blue aura slithered along the edge.
[Vaelen]
An aura. Didn't expect that. So he's trained. And well.
Vaelen:
"How long can you sustain that energy?"
Kael:
"Until it runs out."
Vaelen didn't smile, but his glare lost its edge.
Vaelen:
"Good answer."
Silence. Then—crackling twigs. A guttural breath. A sound between a growl and a predator's hiss.
[Kael]
Left flank. Trying to push me out of the light.
He spun, dodging a shadowy lunge. The creature was low but fast—a fusion of wolf and serpent, with spiral fangs and venom-green eyes.
His sword sliced its flank, spilling black ichor. But before he could steady himself, two more emerged from the dark.
[Vaelen]
Shit. It's a pack. He's surrounded.
Vaelen charged, club in hand. His first swing crushed the spine of the largest beast. The second was hurled against the palisade by Kael's precise counterstrike.
Maiven appeared moments later, hands glowing blue-green. A beam of energy froze the last creature mid-leap. A coordinated strike shattered it midair.
[Maiven]
He moves efficiently. But… he holds back. Why?
Maiven (panting):
"Why didn't you finish with an area attack?"
Kael wiped his blade on his thigh.
Kael:
"Because… there was a child watching. Over there."
He nodded toward a pair of frightened eyes peeking between the logs.
"There's always someone watching."
[Vaelen]
He knows. And chooses not to be a monster—even though he could.
Silence. The three stood still, listening to the wind.
Kael (sheathing his sword):
"Trust has to be earned. But there's a higher price: doing nothing."
[Narrator – External Perspective]
That night, the name "Kael" was whispered among the village elders. To the children, it was a hero's name. To Maiven, a riddle. To Vaelen… a potential leader.
But to Kael himself, it was just a reminder of the past he still had to face. Because every step forward—no matter how just or heroic—led him back to the same void:
The emptiness left by all he'd lost.
[End of Chapter 13]