《The Lord of The Tower》 Chapter 1~ Fragments of a Lost World This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Chapter 2~ In the Wake of Stars The sky above was alive with color. A mesmerizing aurora danced across the horizon, casting a shimmering glow on the clear night sky, glittered with countless stars. The snowy landscape reflects its beauty, with trees standing tall decorating its vast, endless scope. It was peaceful; it was another quiet night across this harsh yet beautiful land. Shooting stars streaked across the expanse, leaving trails of light that seemed to linger in the air. White clouds drifted lazily, adding to the ethereal beauty of the night. ¡­ It was supposed to be yet another uneventful night for the guards, one filled with quiet and hardly any significant events. Perhaps a beast or two might stumble into the village, but the archers on the towers would quickly dispatch them. Kiran thought it would be the same. He sat humming quietly on the edge of his tower, taking in the endless landscape and marveling at the world''s beauty. He gazed up at the sky, his thoughts drifting to his love waiting for him back home. Peace and contentment were etched across his face as he daydreamed about his future. Yet his expression suddenly changed. Peace turned to horror as he witnessed a river of shooting stars streaking across the sky. His heart raced. ''The elders¡¯ prophecy¡ªit¡¯s coming true.'' He descended the tower in a hurry, almost stumbling in his haste. Running beside the tall fence connecting every archery tower, he soon reached a clearing. It was the training ground, a vast expanse of land with only one house in the center. He sprinted towards this house made of lumber. Two guards stood at the door, their expressions stern as they blocked his way. Kiran slowed down, breathing heavily as he approached them, breathless. ¡°Shooting stars! The prophecy¡ªit¡¯s happening!¡± he panted. Shock appeared on the guards¡¯ faces. One of them quickly entered the house. His quiet footsteps echoed through the hall until he reached a room where a man lay on a fur bed. The man twitched, his eyes snapping open. In less than a second, he grabbed his spear and quickly rose, ready to defend himself. ¡°Sire, it¡¯s me!¡± The guard shouted, sweating profusely as the spear''s point hovered inches from his neck. ¡°Why did you enter? Did I not tell you to only come in an emergency?¡± The young elder growled, his voice threatening. ¡°Sire, there¡¯s been a sighting of shooting stars¡ªmany of them!¡± The man''s eyes closed, and he fell into silence, his face frowning deeply. The silence spread as the elder lost himself in thought, the sound of the guard''s racing breath the only noise in the room. ¡°Send word to the other elders immediately! An emergency gathering needs to be held as soon as possible,¡± the man ordered. A sigh of relief escaped from the guard as he rushed out of the room, relief washing over him. The elder stood there in the dark, thoughts drifting as he considered the future. ¡®May the peace last!¡¯ ¡­ As dawn''s first light crept over the horizon, five individuals gathered in the great hall at the village center. The hall, larger and more imposing than the rest, stood as a symbol of their authority. The cold stone floor echoed with their hurried footsteps as they approached the giant wooden doors. These were the elders, each with their own group, walking through the hall, each with their own agenda. First to walk in was Rina, the eldest and most revered. She was an imposing giant old woman; she walked with a stick, her back straighter than an arrow. Her movements were slow but deliberate. Behind her was her group of people. They were a small group of her attendants, mostly women with children and crippled warriors, following closely, carrying smaller sticks. These were the top builders who maintained the village, tasked with keeping the fences and pits in order. Rina¡¯s silver hair, tied back in a loose bun, contrasted with her deeply lined face, each wrinkle a testament to her many years of service. Walking behind her was Elder Jorim, a giant of a man with muscles rippling beneath his bare, cold-reddened skin. Despite the freezing temperatures, he wore nothing on his upper body, a sign of his strength and resilience. His head, fully white, stood tall and proud as he carried a massive hammer. Behind him were his five apprentices, equally muscular, carrying hammers as well, their eyes fierce and unwavering. Walking alongside him was a young man; he was a noticeable figure clad in full-body leather armor. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.He carried a spear made from iron, a rare and precious metal. This was the Guardian, Alaric. Guards in formation followed after. They marched behind him with disciplined steps, walking in sync, their footsteps all in rhythm. Some carried with them iron spears and others tall blades. Alaric''s face, hidden behind a leather mask, was a mystery to many, his voice a low rumble that commanded respect. Following right after was Lyra, the youngest of the lot. She was known to be a hot-headed woman who many didn''t dare cross. She walked confidently in light leather armor; her thick hands and sharp eyes revealed her prowess. A bow and quiver of arrows were strapped to her back; behind her were two ladies similarly armed. Lastly, Varek, the village healer, entered. His footsteps made no sound, yet his cane tapping slowly notified those around him of his presence. Aged and hunched, he walked with the aid of a long wooden staff. Though blind, he needed no one to lead the way and walked on his own. A stack of parchments made from animal hide hung from his side, containing the wisdom and knowledge his family had accumulated for generations. His beard, long and white, swayed with each step as he moved forward, his blind eyes ever watchful. No one followed behind him; his lonely figure was in contrast with the others; his figure was that of a lone dark knight. Reaching the hall''s doors, the guards following Alaric scattered, all headed into their own assigned positions. Two opened the grand doors for them, allowing only the elders to pass through. The doors creaked on their hinges, revealing a dimly lit chamber beyond. Walking toward it, each elder stood in front of their designated throne. The thrones were arranged in distinct formations, each side representing a faction. On one side sat Elder Varek, his sinister presence evoking both fear and respect. His throne, hewn from cold, unyielding stone, had a dark flower engraved at its apex, dark roses twining around it, flourishing despite the lack of natural light¡ªa testament to his eerie influence. Beside him, an empty throne stood, a scale engraved at its top. On one side of the scale rested a menacing skull, while a flowering tree adorned the other, symbolizing the delicate balance between life and death. Opposite them were two imposing figures, Jorim and Alaric, their presence exuding strength and authority. Jorim''s throne bore the engraving of a hammer, with an array of hammers behind it¡ªeach one representing a previous blacksmith leader. Alaric''s throne was marked with a spear, surrounded by an assortment of weapons embedded in the ground: long swords, daggers, and spears, some succumbing to rust, like fallen warriors left to time''s relentless march. The final side housed the two women, Elder Rina and Elder Lyra, their expressions a blend of wisdom and determination. Their seats, taller and more regal, faced the entrance, and the great contained fire. Rina''s throne featured a brush, behind which thousands of ancient scrolls were arranged in tubes planted in the floor, scattered like seeds of knowledge waiting to be harvested. Lyra''s throne bore the engraving of a bow, surrounded by countless arrows embedded in the floor, each arrow attached with a letter¡ªthe last words of fallen archer warriors, a somber forest of final farewells. The great fire in the center cast flickering shadows, illuminating the elders and their thrones in a dance of light and dark, a metaphor for the balance of power and wisdom guiding their decisions. ¡­ The atmosphere crackled with tension, like a storm on the horizon. Jorum took a step forward, his muscular frame casting a long shadow in the flickering firelight. Making a prayer gesture with his hands, he loudly declared, ¡°The meeting shall commence!¡± The elders nodded in approval and sat down, except for Alaric. His sharp and piercing eyes scanned the room like a hawk searching for prey. ¡°I initiated this emergency meeting because an urgent report was brought to my attention,¡± Alaric began, his voice echoing through the chamber like distant thunder. ¡°Last night, a river of shooting stars was spotted.¡± His tone grew grave. ¡°It¡¯s been fifty years; they will soon be coming!!¡± Elder Rina, her age-worn face a map of wisdom and worry, nodded, leaning heavily on her stick. Her eyes, like deep wells of memory, held a distant sadness. ¡°My scribes have estimated that this year is the blood year. It has indeed been nearly fifty years since the last sacrifice,¡± she said, her voice drifting as if recalling the echoes of the past. Chapter 3~ Shadows of the Past The chamber was steeped in an ancient, foreboding atmosphere. The elders¡¯ voices, once vibrant with power, were now subdued, weighed down by the years and the heavy mantle of responsibility. The flickering flames in the great hearth cast long, wavering shadows that danced eerily on the stone walls, a silent reminder of the ever-looming darkness. Varek¡¯s voice, smooth and insidious, cut through the silence like a blade. ¡°Our ancestors knew the price of survival. They understood that only by offering life to the heavens could we stave off the wrath of the stars. But now, who among us has the courage to choose the next sacrifice?¡± His words were sharp, each one a poisoned arrow aimed at the hearts of his fellow elders. A thick silence descended upon the chamber, oppressive and suffocating. The elders exchanged glances, their faces masks of contemplation, hiding the turmoil within. The crackling of the fire was the only sound, a subtle but relentless reminder of the decisions they must make. Lyra, her eyes as sharp as the arrows she wielded, shattered the silence with her voice, cold and resolute. ¡°This is not a matter to be taken lightly. The balance of our village hangs by a thread. Any misstep could send us into the abyss.¡± Her tone was firm, but there was a tremor of doubt beneath the surface, a flicker of uncertainty that belied her strong exterior. Jorim, his brow furrowed in deep thought, added his voice to the discussion. ¡°Time is a luxury we do not have. We must act swiftly. The stars will not wait for us to make up our minds.¡± His words were spoken with urgency, but beneath them was a current of fear, a fear that gnawed at him from within. Alaric, standing tall and imposing, spoke with a voice that resonated with the authority of his position. ¡°We face a dual threat. The stars demand appeasement, but we must also fortify the village. Spring is upon us, and with it comes the threat of beast metamorphosis. If our defenses fail, we will be swept away.¡± His words were a stark reminder of the peril they faced on all sides, the relentless pressure that bore down on them. Varek, ever the opportunist, seized the moment. ¡°We must also look to the future. Elder Tharion¡¯s health is failing, and the village cannot be left without a leader. His successor must be chosen soon, before it is too late.¡± His voice was laced with a sinister intent, his eyes gleaming with unspoken malice. Rina, her voice tinged with sorrow, sighed deeply. ¡°Tharion has served us well, but his time is drawing to a close. According to our customs, we must choose his successor before he leaves us.¡± Her words carried the weight of inevitability, a resignation to the unyielding march of time. Varek¡¯s smile was a thin, predatory line. ¡°It is only fitting that his wife, Nara, take his place. She has been by his side, she knows his duties, and she will honor his legacy.¡± His tone was smooth, persuasive, but there was a hardness to his words, a subtle pressure that he exerted on the others. Lyra¡¯s temper flared, her voice rising in indignation. ¡°We know what you¡¯re playing at, Varek. The bloodline must be preserved. Tharion¡¯s son, Zarek, is the rightful heir. He should take his father¡¯s place.¡± Her words were fiery, but there was a desperation to them, a plea for the preservation of tradition. Varek¡¯s laughter was low, mocking. ¡°A child? Too young, too inexperienced. And let us not forget the omens of his birth. Thousands of shooting stars marked the day he was born. He is cursed, a harbinger of destruction. He should be given to the stars, as was his destiny from the beginning.¡± His words were like a serpent¡¯s hiss, venomous and dangerous. The chamber fell into an uneasy silence, the tension thick enough to choke on. The elders¡¯ faces were unreadable, their thoughts hidden behind carefully controlled expressions. Alaric¡¯s voice, steady and unyielding, broke the silence. ¡°To end a Guardian bloodline would be a grave mistake. The last time such a line was severed, disaster followed. We must not act rashly. The stars must be appeased, but not at the cost of our future.¡± His words were a beacon of reason in the storm of emotions that raged within the chamber. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Jorim, though his body was strong, looked troubled, the weight of responsibility pressing down on him. ¡°We cannot afford to lose another Guardian. The price would be too high. The stars demand a sacrifice, but we must find another way.¡± His voice was heavy with the burden of his role, the fear of failure etched into his every word. A sudden knock at the door shattered the tense atmosphere. The heavy wooden doors creaked open, and despite the tradition that no one could enter once a meeting had begun, a figure stepped into the room. He was tall, his presence commanding. His head was shaved, a thick beard framing his weathered face, and one eye was concealed behind a rough leather patch. Aren strode into the room, his footsteps echoing in the chamber. Two men with similarly shaven heads bowed to the elders before leaving, their departure as silent as their arrival. Aren, ignoring the murmurs of disapproval, moved to the fire in the center of the room. He carried a bundle of wood, which he placed into the flames. The fire flared up, crackling and hissing as if in recognition of his presence. ¡°Apologies for my lateness,¡± He rumbled, his voice deep and resonant, like distant thunder. ¡°Matters beyond the village detained me.¡± His words were casual, but there was an undercurrent of authority, a sense that he did not need to explain himself. Varek¡¯s voice was filled with disdain as he sneered, ¡°We did not expect you, Aren. You seldom attend these meetings, so we began without you.¡± His words were meant to wound, but Aren was unfazed. Aren, the village shaman, lived on the outskirts of the village, beyond the protective walls. He and his followers guarded the spiritual and physical boundaries of the village, their presence both feared and respected. Without turning from the fire, Aren spoke, his voice calm but commanding. ¡°I¡¯ve heard your discussions. You were loud enough that even those outside could hear.¡± His tone was admonishing, yet there was a hint of amusement in his voice. He turned to face the elders, his gaze sweeping across the room. ¡°I agree that a sacrifice may be necessary, but it should not be Zarek. His fate is not to appease the stars.¡± His words were spoken with conviction, a challenge to those Aren¡¯s statement hung in the air, a bold declaration that sent ripples through the chamber. The elders shifted uncomfortably in their seats, exchanging glances filled with unspoken thoughts. Varek¡¯s blind eyes narrowed, a flicker of something dark passing across his face before he composed himself. ¡°You speak as if you know the will of the stars, Aren,¡± Varek said, his tone measured but laced with venom. ¡°But the omens are clear. The boy¡¯s birth was marked by the heavens themselves. Such signs cannot be ignored. We must act in the best interest of the village, even if it means making difficult decisions.¡± Aren¡¯s one good eye bore into Varek, unyielding. ¡°Signs can be interpreted in many ways, Varek. But the stars have guided me for many years, and I know their whispers well. Zarek is not to be sacrificed. His bloodline is too valuable, too intertwined with the very fabric of this village.¡± Rina, who had been silent, now spoke, her voice weary but firm. ¡°Aren is right. The Guardian bloodlines are our strength. We cannot afford to lose another. To sacrifice Zarek would be to cut away at our roots. We must find another way.¡± Varek¡¯s lips curled into a sneer, though he quickly masked it with a more neutral expression. ¡°And what would you suggest, Rina? We cannot simply ignore the omens. If we do nothing, the stars may exact their wrath upon us in ways we cannot predict. Besides, they are coming soon!¡± Lyra, ever the pragmatist, interjected, ¡°yes, they are coming, but we must be careful, Varek. Sacrificing Zarek could destabilize the entire village. The people revere the Guardian bloodlines. If they see us cutting down one of our own, it could lead to unrest, or worse...¡± The room fell into a deep, contemplative silence. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows that danced across the stone walls. The elders were lost in thought, weighing their options, considering the consequences of each possible action. Alaric finally broke the silence, his voice steady and commanding. ¡°If we must appease the stars, we must do so wisely. Sacrificing Zarek could bring short-term relief, but the long-term damage could be catastrophic. We must choose our course of action with great care.¡± Varek, sensing an opportunity to sway the others, leaned forward slightly. ¡°Then perhaps we should look to another solution. If we cannot sacrifice Zarek outright, we can still neutralize the threat he poses. We can¡­ guide him¡± he paused, ¡°ensure that his actions align with the village¡¯s best interests!¡± Chapter 4~ Voices of Doom The weight of his words hung like a heavy shroud over the chamber. The other elders understood the unspoken message: manipulate Zarek, control him, and if necessary, eliminate him quietly. It was a dark path, but one that might preserve the village¡¯s fragile stability without openly defying the stars. Aren¡¯s sharp gaze swept across the room, catching the subtle shifts in the elders¡¯ expressions. He could see the seeds of doubt and conspiracy starting to sprout in their minds. When he spoke, his voice carried a quiet warning. ¡°Tread carefully, Varek. To plot against one of our own is to invite the very chaos we seek to avoid. The stars are not to be manipulated, and neither are the lives of our people.¡± Jorim, his brow furrowed, leaned forward. ¡°We are leaders, not tyrants,¡± he said gravely. ¡°The people look to us for guidance, for wisdom. If we lose our way, so too will they. Our duty is to protect the village, yes, but also to lead it with honor. We cannot forsake that for the sake of fear.¡± Rina nodded in agreement, though her lips pressed into a thin line. ¡°The stakes are high, and the risks even higher. We must consider every option, but we cannot allow fear to drive us into rash actions.¡± Alaric¡¯s voice was calm, but his words carried a darker undertone. ¡°Then we must find balance. Perhaps there is a way to test Zarek, to determine whether or not he truly poses a threat. If he passes, we spare him. If he fails¡­¡± He left the sentence hanging in the air, but the implication was clear to all. If Zarek failed, they would have the justification needed to remove him, one way or another. The fire crackled, sending a cascade of sparks spiraling upward. The room seemed to grow heavier with each passing moment, the decisions looming before them like an approaching storm. Each elder wrestled with the possibilities, the consequences of the path they might have to walk. Aren¡¯s expression remained inscrutable, though his mind raced. He knew he could not stop the wheels already set in motion, but perhaps he could delay them. Distract them. Protect Zarek from the shadows closing in around him. His thoughts turned to the ancient rituals, the forgotten protections that might shield the boy from the others¡¯ machinations. But for now, the seeds of conspiracy had been sown, and the elders, despite their reservations, were beginning to align themselves with Varek¡¯s dark suggestions. The meeting neared its end, and one by one, the elders rose from their seats, each lost in their own thoughts. As they left the chamber, the atmosphere was thick with unresolved tension. The flickering flames cast long, distorted shadows on the walls¡ªdark reflections of the twisted thoughts now occupying the elders'' minds. ¡­ Far from the village, beyond the mountains and the dense, untamed forests, over a vast and storm-tossed sea, another figure stood in quiet defiance of the chaos around him. The ship groaned as it fought against the tempest, waves crashing against its sides with relentless fury. Water swept across the deck in torrents, but the man perched atop the mast remained unmoved. He was a formidable presence, his silhouette stark against the blackened sky. A wide-brimmed hat, worn from years of exposure, was pulled low over his eyes, shielding him from the relentless downpour. His beard, long and braided with various trinkets, swayed in the wind, the charms clinking softly despite the roar of the storm. In his hands, he held a small, ornate lamp, its surface etched with strange symbols. He shook it gently, his lips moving in a silent chant. The sea raged below, and the sky churned above, but the man remained calm, his focus unwavering. The bottle began to glow faintly, a pale light piercing through the sheets of rain. His fingers moved with precision, tracing intricate patterns in the air, as though drawing invisible connections between the storm and the small object in his grasp. His chant grew louder, though the words were lost in the wind. For a brief moment, the storm seemed to pause, as if the forces of nature themselves were listening. Suddenly, the man¡¯s eyes snapped open, glowing with an intense light. The storm surged in response, yet his gaze cut through the darkness, searching the clouds as if seeking something hidden within. ¡°The time is near,¡± he whispered, his voice hoarse but filled with resolve. ¡°The winds carry change, and the sea trembles in fear of what is to come.¡± He raised the lamb higher, shaking it once more. The liquid inside swirled violently, casting eerie reflections across his weathered face. His expression remained calm, but his eyes gleamed with a knowing intensity. ¡°The old ways will drown beneath the tide,¡± he muttered, his voice low and ominous. ¡°And the new will rise from the depths, whether we are ready or not.¡± Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. The ship lurched beneath him, yet he stood firm. He tilted his head back, letting the rain strike his face. For a moment, he listened to the rhythm of the storm as though it were speaking to him. ¡°The sea knows,¡± he whispered to himself. ¡°It whispers of great upheaval. The waters will rise, and with them, the buried truths will emerge.¡± He lowered the lamb , cradling it with care. His eyes narrowed as he gazed into the distance, where the horizon vanished beneath a thick veil of rain. ¡°It begins soon,¡± he murmured. ¡°And when it does, none will escape the storm¡¯s wrath.¡± With that, he descended the mast, his movements slow and deliberate. He crossed the rain-soaked deck, his boots striking the wood with a steady rhythm. The sea raged on, but the man walked with calm purpose, disappearing into the shadows of the ship. Above, lightning ripped across the sky, illuminating the vast, endless sea. Deep within the swirling clouds, something stirred¡ªsomething that would soon break free, sweeping the world into its chaos. --- Far from the sea and land, beyond the raging water, the sky scraping mountains, and the dense, untamed forests, inside a grand hall adorned with shimmering white marble, a different kind of power stirred. A vast chamber stretched endlessly, the walls polished to perfection and glowing with an ethereal light that reflected off the floors. At the center, on a towering golden throne, sat an imposing figure. His presence dominated the room, radiating authority and control. The throne was intricately carved with symbols of ancient royalty, its surface gleaming like molten gold under the soft illumination of the hall. His form was draped in a deep crimson robe, the fabric shimmering like blood in the firelight. His crown, a symbol of absolute rule, glinted with embedded jewels that reflected every flicker of the surrounding flames. Before him, hundreds of figures stood at attention, their armor gleaming with silver and gold. These were the Royal Guards¡ªunflinching, disciplined, and loyal to the very marrow of their bones. Their helms obscured their faces, yet the weight of their unwavering presence filled the hall. The ruler''s voice soon boomed across the chamber, each word measured and deliberate. "The 1000-year descend has ended," he declared, his voice echoing through the marble hall, thick with authority. "The next patch has been selected by the stars." His eyes, sharp and calculating, scanned the rows of armored guards before him, each one a soldier honed for battle, sworn to serve without question. "They must be brought back," he announced, his tone unyielding. "The time has come to reclaim what is ours. Send word to the corners of the world¡ªprepare for their return." A murmur rippled through the ranks of the Royal Guards, but no one spoke out of turn. They were the elite, trained in silence and obedience. They knew the importance of the task ahead. ¡­ Hidden far from the grandeur of the marble hall, in a place few dared to tread, a dark cave lay concealed behind a roaring waterfall. The cave was shrouded in perpetual shadow, with only the faintest slivers of light seeping through the curtain of water, casting eerie reflections on the jagged walls. In the heart of the cave, amidst the darkness, sat a solitary figure. The witch¡¯s form was hunched over a bubbling cauldron, the only source of light in the otherwise pitch-black chamber. The cauldron glowed with a sickly, unnatural light, casting a twisted halo around her as thick, dark gas rose from the mixture, swirling menacingly in the air. Her face was sharp and angular, her skin pale and drawn tight over her bones, giving her a gaunt appearance. Her eyes gleamed with malice as she watched the potion bubble and churn, the dark fumes radiating an unmistakable aura of danger. A sinister smile curled her cracked lips as she muttered softly to herself, her voice a raspy whisper that seemed to resonate with the very darkness around her. ¡°Another failure,¡± she hissed, her words dripping with malice. ¡°Another patch of unfortunate souls, destined to be thrown into the abyss.¡± The witch closed her eyes, and as she did, her long, tangled hair began to float upward, strands glowing faintly with a dark, eerie light. Her entire body seemed to hum with energy as if drawing power from the very shadows themselves. The air in the cave grew thick, oppressive, as the witch delved deeper into her dark magic. Her eyes snapped open, glowing a dull red as if lit from within. She looked exhausted, her body trembling under the weight of the power she wielded. Her voice, now hoarse and filled with weariness, echoed through the cave. ¡°None will make it,¡± she croaked, her tone final, as though the fates of those souls had already been sealed. The potion in the cauldron hissed, and the fumes grew thicker, swirling faster as if feeding on the witch¡¯s dark thoughts. She let out a dry, mirthless laugh, the sound echoing off the walls like the cackle of a distant storm. She knew the truth. The climb, the struggle, the hope¡ªit would all be for nothing. The abyss awaited them, and she, the keeper of this secret knowledge, would bear witness to their inevitable demise. With a final, tired sigh, the witch leaned back, her hair slowly settling as the glow around her faded. Her eyes remained open, heavy with the weight of what she had seen, her vision clouded by the darkness of the future. She knew that the forces at play were beyond even her control, but she reveled in the chaos that would unfold. And so, the cave returned to silence, the only sound the steady drip of water from the ceiling and the faint bubbling of the dark, glowing potion that still churned in the cauldron. ¡­ Meanwhile, outside the elders¡¯ chamber, Zarek remained oblivious to the storm gathering around him. He walked through the village, his thoughts far from the elders¡¯ plots. The villagers moved about their daily routines, their faces worn by the hardships of life in a world that had long forgotten warmth. Children played near the edge of the forest, their laughter a fleeting escape from the village¡¯s harsh realities. Zarek watched them with a faint smile, remembering a time when he too had played with such carefree abandon, before the weight of his birth and the whispers of the elders had begun to weigh him down. As he wandered, a young servant girl approached, breathless. ¡°Your father is asking for you,¡± she panted, her voice tinged with urgency. ¡°It¡¯s urgent.¡± Zarek¡¯s stomach tightened, a cold sense of dread settling in. He nodded, following her back to his father¡¯s home, his mind racing with possibilities, none of them good. As he walked, the village seemed to close in around him, the familiar paths growing strange and ominous. The air felt colder, the shadows longer, as if the future had already been written in a language he could not yet understand. The storm was coming, and Zarek¡ªthough he did not yet know it¡ªstood at its center. Chapter 5~ The Burden of Sacrifice The warmth of the fire barely touched the icy dread gnawing at Zarek¡¯s heart as he stepped into his father¡¯s house. The familiar scent of burning wood mingled with the cold, musty air, failing to dispel the chill that clung to him like a second skin. His thoughts were a tangled mess, frayed and scattered, as he tried to reconcile the past with the present. It had been six long years since he last saw his father, right after the agonizing death of his mother. The wooden walls, adorned with relics and symbols of their lineage, loomed over him like silent judges. Each piece was a reminder of the bloodline he was born into, yet now, they seemed to mock him, as if to say he no longer belonged here. The room, once a sanctuary, now felt like a stranger¡¯s domain¡ªfamiliar yet alien, filled with memories that were both cherished and cursed. On a fur bed lay the man who had once been a towering figure in Zarek¡¯s life. His father¡¯s once robust frame had withered away, leaving behind a frail, ghostly figure. Beside him stood Nara, his father''s wife, and Elder Varek, her father. Their faces were masks of concern, but Zarek could see the undercurrents of ambition and calculation swirling beneath their expressions, like predators biding their time. Disgust and unease coiled in Zarek¡¯s gut as he looked at them. ''These are the ones who replaced us,'' he thought bitterly. ''This is the family he chose over us.'' ¡°Zarek, you¡¯ve come at last,¡± Nara began, her voice a soft murmur that barely rose above the crackling fire, yet carried an unsettling undertone. ¡°It¡¯s been so long since we last saw you, but that isn¡¯t what matters now. There¡¯s something far more urgent that you must know.¡± Zarek approached cautiously, the tension in the room thickening with every step. His eyes flicked between his stepmother and her father, both of whom seemed to exude a coldness that made his skin crawl. ¡°What is it?¡± he asked, his voice steady despite the unease creeping into his bones. Nara¡¯s eyes gleamed with a mix of urgency and something darker¡ªsomething that sent a shiver down Zarek¡¯s spine. ¡°The council is considering a sacrifice,¡± she said, her words like the hiss of a serpent. ¡°They believe you might be a suitable candidate. Your birth under a bad omen has put you at great risk. You must be careful, Zarek. Very careful.¡± Zarek nodded slowly, forcing a smile that didn¡¯t reach his eyes. He knew better than to trust these people. Beneath his calm exterior, a storm of anger and disbelief churned. ''As if isolating me wasn¡¯t enough. Now they want to sacrifice me?'' Varek, his blind eyes unseeing yet strangely penetrating, nodded in agreement. ¡°In life, one does not choose their destiny, nor how they are brought into this world. One must live with no regrets,¡± he intoned, his voice carrying the weight of a truth that felt more like a noose tightening around Zarek¡¯s neck. A stirring came from the bed as Tharion, Zarek¡¯s father, struggled to sit up despite the pain etched across his face. ¡°Leave us,¡± he commanded weakly, his voice barely more than a whisper, yet full of authority. ¡°I need to speak to my son alone.¡± Nara and Varek exchanged glances¡ªglances filled with the silent communication of those who have conspired together for far too long. Their pride was clearly stung by the dismissal, but they complied, stepping out of the cabin. As the door closed behind them, the atmosphere in the room shifted, the tension giving way to an oppressive silence that bore down on Zarek like a physical weight. ¡°Zarek, Time is brutal,¡± Tharion began, his voice rasping like the dry whisper of autumn leaves. He reached beneath the furs and pulled out three heavy, worn-out gold keys. ¡°These keys represent the three guardians of our family. They are not of great material value, but they are our legacy, passed down through generations.¡± Zarek took the keys in silence, their weight feeling almost insignificant in his hand, yet laden with the burden of his family¡¯s history. ¡°Why are you handing me this now, Father?¡± Tharion''s eyes softened, a flicker of regret crossing his weathered face. ¡°Death is fast approaching,¡± he said quietly, his voice filled with a resignation that sent a chill down Zarek¡¯s spine. ¡°Son, death is the shadow that follows us all, always closer than we realize. Time slips through our fingers, but in the end, it¡¯s not the years that matter¡ªit¡¯s how we choose to live before the shadow catches us.¡± Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. He paused, drawing a shaky breath that seemed to rattle in his chest. ¡°The day you were born, a stream of shooting stars crossed the sky. The elders saw it as a bad omen and wanted to sacrifice you that very night, but I refused to bend down to those superstitions.¡± Raising his hands as if grasping something, he continued ¡°I called in nearly all the favors our family was owed, and they relented. Not because they were kind, it was because no one from above came!!¡± Remaining quiet, Zarek just sat down and watched his father, he honestly held a grudge against him for throwing him away, for banishing him from his home. Yet, meeting his father after many years, it felt like nothing has changed, his father was still the same. His thoughts drifted, yet they were quickly brought back. A story he had never heard, an explaining for most of his misfortune was being revealed. The room was thick with the heavy scent of smoke and old memories, the dying fire casting a weak, flickering glow on the stone walls. Zarek stood at the foot of his father¡¯s bed, every muscle tense, a storm of emotions boiling beneath his calm exterior. He felt as if the world was closing in on him¡ªcrushing him beneath the weight of revelations he hadn¡¯t been ready to hear. His father¡¯s voice, frail and broken, hung in the air like the ghost of a once-mighty king. ¡°Your mother and I,¡± Tharion mumbled, his voice trembling with the weight of long-buried grief, ¡°we tried, Zarek. We tried to bring more children into this world, hoping they would succeed where I failed. But the stars¡­ the stars were cruel. Each child we brought into this world died within days, and the last¡­ the last took your mother with her.¡± The silence that followed was suffocating, like the calm before a storm that could destroy everything. Zarek¡¯s chest tightened as he fought to breathe, to comprehend the depth of his father¡¯s sorrow. The years of distance between them now seemed like an impenetrable chasm, one Zarek could never cross. His father had been lost to him long before today. Tharion coughed, the sound rattling in his chest like dry leaves in the wind. When he pulled his hand away from his mouth, it was stained with blood. A bitter smile crept across his lips. ¡°Our world was once a paradise,¡± he whispered, his eyes distant, lost in memories of a time Zarek could only imagine. ¡°People lived long, prosperous lives, but we angered the stars. And in a single day, everything was destroyed. Only the Titans¡¯ sacrifice saved us from total ruin.¡± Zarek¡¯s heart pounded in his chest. He had heard this tale a hundred times, perhaps a thousand, but this time it was different. This time, it felt more like a warning than a legend. Tharion''s voice grew quieter, as though the secrets of the past weighed on him like chains. ¡°The animals, they were cursed too¡ªgranted the power to evolve, while we were left to freeze in the eternal cold. But as I grow older, Zarek, I find myself doubting the truth of it all. What if the stars didn¡¯t curse us? What if we cursed ourselves?¡± Zarek clenched his fists at his sides, his mind racing. He needed answers, not riddles. ¡°What do I need to do?¡± he asked, his voice hard and steady. Tharion¡¯s hand tightened on the coarse blankets, his knuckles turning white with effort. ¡°You must leave the village, my son,¡± he said, each word laced with urgency. ¡°You must escape before it¡¯s too late. The others will come for you when I am gone. You must be gone before that happens.¡± Pausing, he remained quiet for a short while as if contemplating something, ¡°There are forces at work beyond this village¡ªforces you cannot yet understand. Outsiders¡­ they will come. And when they do, they will bring with them misfortune and misery.¡± He looked Into Zarek¡¯s eyes, his gaze piercing, filled with the weight of a father¡¯s final plea. ¡°Take what you need and go. Seek the world beyond our borders. Accomplish what I could not.¡± His breath grew labored, his coughs more violent than before. ¡°The spear,¡± he rasped, nodding weakly to the corner of the room where a finely crafted weapon leaned against the wall. ¡°Take it. It¡¯s yours now. It¡¯s your inheritance¡ªyour legacy. Use it well, and honor yourself.¡± Zarek reached for the spear, his hands trembling as he gripped the cool metal. It felt heavier than he expected¡ªheavier not just in weight, but in the burden it now symbolized. His father¡¯s life was slipping away before his eyes, but the future stretched before him like an endless, unforgiving road. Tharion coughed again, his voice barely a whisper now. ¡°Your mother¡­ your mother believed in you. She named you Zarek, hoping you would shine brighter than any star in the sky. She believed you were destined for greatness. Prove her right, my son. Prove us both right.¡± Zarek swallowed hard, his throat tight with concealed emotions. He knew this would likely be the last time he would see his father alive. The cold air outside the home was a bitter contrast to the warmth of the dying fire, a reminder of the harshness that awaited him beyond the village walls. ¡°I don¡¯t believe in the stars,¡± Zarek said, having finally gathered his courage to speak, yet his voice was low and unsteady. Tharion smiled, his hand slipped from the blanket, his strength gone, his eyes half-closed as he drifted into darkness. ¡°Go, Zarek,¡± he whispered, his voice barely audible. ¡°Go¡­ and claim the world as if it¡¯s yours.¡± With a heavy heart and the weight of his father¡¯s words on his shoulders, Zarek turned and stepped out into the biting cold. The wind howled in his ears as he gripped the spear tightly, the first step of his journey heavy with the knowledge that from this moment on, he was truly alone. Chapter 6~ Whispers in the Shadows The wind howled through the village, carrying whispers of fear and uncertainty. Nara and Elder Varek emerged from Tharion¡¯s cabin, their expressions dark and brooding as they stepped into the night. The rain had started to fall, a light drizzle that dampened the earth but did little to quench the fire burning in their hearts. They lingered at the entrance, their ears straining to catch the fading remnants of the conversation between Zarek and his dying father. The moment the voices within the cabin fell silent, a cold understanding passed between Nara and Varek. Her eyes, once soft with an illusion of kindness, now gleamed with a cold, merciless light. Her hands clenched at her sides, her nails biting into her palms. Pain no longer mattered¡ªonly the fierce determination that gripped her. She looked at Varek, who stood tall and unmoved by the storm around them, his blind eyes seeming to pierce through the veil of darkness. ¡°We must act now,¡± Nara whispered, her voice low and resolute. ¡°If Zarek escapes, he will return stronger, more dangerous than ever. We must make the village believe that the stars demand a sacrifice, and that sacrifice must be him.¡± Varek¡¯s lips curled into a slight, bitter smile. ¡°The boy carries his father¡¯s legacy, and that is something we cannot allow him to reclaim. His existence threatens everything we have built.¡± Nara nodded, her expression hardening. ¡°Then we must act quickly. Fear will guide the people to our will. They will follow the path we lay before them, as long as it is paved with survival.¡± She motioned to the shadows, where their closest attendants stood waiting. They emerged without a word, their faces cold and impassive, their loyalty unquestionable. ¡°Spread the word,¡± Nara ordered, her voice cutting through the night like a blade. ¡°Let them know the elders are considering the stars¡¯ will. Fear will spread, and with it, our power.¡± The attendants nodded, their expressions unchanged as they melted into the darkness, vanishing like ghosts into the village. But one man remained¡ªTorak, the most cunning and ruthless of them all. His presence lingered, his sharp eyes catching every detail, every movement. Varek turned to him, his voice a dangerous whisper. ¡°You have a different task.¡± ¡­ The village buzzed with hushed whispers. Guards stood at their posts, murmuring to each other about the ominous rumors. ¡°I heard we might need a sacrifice,¡± one guard whispered, his voice tinged with fear. ¡°Yeah, and it might have to be another guardian blood like last time,¡± another added, glancing nervously around. Meanwhile, far away, near the village entrance, an old man sitting on the stump of a thick tree was using a sharp dagger. In his hand was a block of wood that he was shaving, sculpting it to his will. His muscles rippled with each shave, sweat glistening on his brow as he concentrated. A young boy rushed up to him, breathless. ¡°Master Orin, some of the villagers are saying that the elders want to sacrifice Zarek to quell the stars¡¯ anger!¡± the boy exclaimed. A ripple shot through the eyes of the elder, anger slowly building up as he got up. He laid his blade to the side and wiped his forehead. ¡°What a bunch of fools,¡± he chuckled. ¡°A sacrifice every fifty years for stars that don¡¯t give a damn about us.¡± He picked up his blade again and resumed striking the wood, now with more force, the sharp sound now echoing through the forest and drifting away. ¡­ In another part of the village, a middle-aged woman was salting and hanging meat to dry. Her daughter ran up to her, her eyes wide with worry., ¡°Mother, the other kids are saying Zarek has to be sacrificed to appease the stars!¡± she cried. The woman¡¯s hands froze, the piece of meat slipping from her grasp and falling to the floor. ¡°What? No, that can¡¯t be true,¡± she whispered, her face paling with shock. --- Away from the village gossip and its people, there on the village edge stood a sturdy wooden fence and tall archery towers. Beyond the fence lay a flat, rocky field where men trained in groups. ¡°Duck! Get up! To the right and to the left!¡± Shouts echoed as the men navigated a series of obstacles, each one designed to test their endurance and agility. The field was dotted with all kinds of obstacles, wooden hurdles, pits filled with mud, and narrow beams that required perfect balance to cross. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. The man issuing the commands was one of the Elders, his full-,, body armor gleaming under the harsh sun. Despite the weight of his leather armor, he moved effortlessly, not breaking a sweat, his rough and solid voice cutting through the air. ¡°Move faster! Stay low!¡± he barked, his breath steady despite his constant movement. As the men continued their grueling training, a guard sprinted across the field, urgently whispering something into Alaric¡¯s ear. Though his expression was hidden by his helmet, his abrupt halt and his following command revealed the gravity of the message. ¡°Stop!¡± he yelled, calling his right-hand man. ¡°Brannik, take over the training,¡± he ordered before hurrying away, leaving the men to continue under Branning''s stern guidance. ¡­ Far away from this training ground, on the other side of the village stood a building made entirely from bricks, with only the roof covered and made from wood. This was the smith where Jorim worked. The fire burned brightly, and people rushed around. Men threw rocks into the furnace to melt before taking them out and starting to forge. Despite his apprentices carrying hammers, they were allowed to fully forge anything without Jorim¡¯s help and assistance. Their jobs for now were only to help him. The smith was busy like usual, with men rushing to bring in carts of rocks that needed to be filtered, men filtering the rocks, men throwing wood to keep the furnace hot, and men rushing to get water to replace the water Jorim was using to cool the hot metal. In the midst of all this, a young girl came rushing over, calling for her grandfather. Doting over this, his granddaughter, Jorim, ordered everyone to stop, no longer caring about the thing he was forging. The girl rushed over with fear in her eyes and hugged her grandfather, both confusing and startling him. ¡°What happened?¡± Jorim said lovingly. The girl didn¡¯t answer; instead, she burst into tears, snot, and teardrops, soon smudging her face. She leaned over her grandfather¡¯s ear and whispered something that only he heard. Immediately, his face darkened, and he briefly shivered despite the smith being extremely hot. ¡°Continue without me!¡± He screamed and carrying his granddaughter, he left the smith with her in his arms. ¡­ Hidden beneath a seemingly normal pit that was neither too close to the outskirts nor too near the center of the village was a cave. In this concealed sanctuary, an old woman sat at a desk made of rocks. She crushed a piece of chalk, storing the powder in a rock bowl containing a little water. Taking a long pine needle, she mixed the concoction before dipping it. Nimbly, she grabbed a piece of leather parchment, ready to write. Just as the first drop touched the parchment, a young man barged in. ¡°Grandma, there is an emergency,¡± he blurted out, causing her to shift her whole body to look at him, smearing the chalk all over the leather parchment. ¡­ Clouds hovered above, casting a serene yet foreboding shadow over the village. Away from the village and its problems, hidden in the depths of nowhere, with only trees surrounding it, an unusual clearing could be found. There, a wooden shrine was erected. Water rushed down a nearby stream, occasional bird whistles filled the air, and the tall grass moved gently with the wind as they concealed the place. Sitting in the middle of the shrine was a man in a meditative pose. He hummed quietly. Even with his eyes closed, he could vividly see far into the forest. He quietly listened, using his other senses to perceive the world around him. He saw a large bear with its cubs hunting huge fish in the river; the bear¡¯s fur was a deep, rich brown. The fish splashed in the clear water, their scales glinting in the sunlight. Nearby, a fox stealthily approached a bird, each of its steps calculated and silent. In the sky, a huge eagle with wings spread wide swooped down, catching a snake hidden in a tree. The snake slithered through the branches, its scales shimmering, as the eagle¡¯s talons closed around it. As all this unfolded in his mind, a sudden knock on the wood door snapped him out of his trance. ¡°Come in,¡± he said calmly. Ten men appeared seemingly from nowhere, as if they were ghosts, each bowing respectfully. ¡°Elder, your prediction has come true.¡± Aren¡¯s eye opened, his face darkened, and he stood up, his imposing figure casting a long shadow. ¡°I¡¯m smelling something¡ªsomething rotten,¡± he muttered, his voice carrying a dangerous edge. ¡­ Trouble was brewing, and unaware of the events unfolding around him, Zarek moved swiftly through the village, clutching the three golden keys tightly. He didn¡¯t know why, but it felt as if he was running out of time. The future is paved with dangers lying ahead, and the role he will play in the fate of the village is yet to be known. Questions are many, yet answers are few. Chapter 7~ Veil of Deceit The village was shrouded in the shades of sun by the time he headed back home, the cold air was biting at Zarek¡¯s skin as he sprinted through the winding paths, clutching the three heavy gold keys his father had given him. Though the keys themselves were small, they felt as though they carried the weight of entire generations¡ªa weight Zarek had never asked for, but now could not escape. His breath came in short bursts, misting in the night air as he ducked into the familiar darkness of his pit. It was a small, earthen place¡ªhumble, yet the only sanctuary he had ever known. The weight of his father¡¯s words echoed in his mind, their meaning sinking into him like a blade. Zarek had never truly forgiven his father for the years of silence, the distance that had grown between them like an unspoken rift. And yet, now that his father¡¯s end was near, the regret of that distance felt like a cruel twist of fate. ¡°Why now?¡± Zarek thought, his hand tightening around the keys. The thought gnawed at him, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. His father wasn¡¯t supposed to die¡ªnot yet. Not like this. He moved quickly, his hands steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside him. Lifting the worn leather cover, he retrieved the few belongings he had managed to hold onto over the years. First, he reached for the large animal hide bag that had seen countless journeys through the wild. Its surface was weathered and scarred, but still strong¡ªjust like him. Carefully, Zarek packed the items he had gathered over the years: dried plants, preserved insects, unique stones, all small fragments of a world he had long been trying to understand. His two sets of clothes were next¡ªplain, simple, but necessary for survival. He folded them neatly, placing them atop the samples, each movement deliberate, as if organizing his belongings could somehow bring order to the chaos inside his mind. Finally, he lifted the three gold keys. Worn and heavy, they bore the scars of time¡ªjust like the legacy they carried. Zarek fashioned a necklace from a strip of leather, threading the keys onto it with slow, measured movements. He slipped the necklace over his head, the keys resting against his chest like a silent vow, a promise he wasn¡¯t sure he could keep. But as the cold metal pressed into his skin, the uncertainty grew too heavy. He removed the necklace and buried it beneath the contents of his bag, tucking the keys far out of sight. For now, at least, they were safe. But safety was fleeting, and he knew it. Zarek stood and tossed a log onto the fire pit at the center of his pit. Sparks flew as the flames roared to life, casting flickering shadows across the walls. The warmth of the fire crept over him, but it did little to ease the chill that had settled deep in his bones. He stripped off his worn leather shoes, setting them by the fire to dry. His tunic followed, then his trousers, leaving him bare to the night¡¯s cold air. Despite his years spent alone, the physical demands of survival had left their mark on him. His body was lean, muscled¡ªeach scar a testament to the harshness of the world he lived in. Wrapping himself in his fur blankets, Zarek allowed himself a moment to relax. His breath steadied as he lay down, the fire crackling softly beside him. But even in the quiet of the night, the weight of what lay ahead pressed down on him, as heavy as the keys buried beneath his furs. He had barely begun to drift off when a noise broke through the stillness¡ªa rustling outside his pit. Zarek¡¯s eyes snapped open, his heart hammering in his chest as he strained to hear. The sound grew louder, accompanied by the low growl of some unseen creature. Zarek sat up, his hand reaching instinctively for his spear. But before he could grasp it, a large shadow burst through the entrance of his pit, barreling toward him with alarming speed. His breath caught in his throat, but just as quickly as the creature appeared, it stopped¡ªits massive frame settling over him with playful intent rather than malice. ¡®What is that?¡¯ he thought, fear creeping into his mind. ¡®Could it be an animal? Or worse, a beast?¡¯ Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. Without any warning, a four-legged animal entered, its shadow reflecting in the firelight. Zarek held his breath, and he instantly got up, ready to defend himself. The creature rushed over, jumping on him before he could even point his spear, throwing him on his back into the warm embrace of his covers. An old manly voice crackled behind the creature, sending a terrifying chill but bringing great comfort to Zarek. ¡°That¡¯s enough, you beast!¡± the voice called out. The creature stopped licking Zarek playfully and returned to its master¡¯s side. Zarek exhaled in relief as the creature retreated, allowing him to sit up. He recognized the figure standing in the doorway¡ªhis Uncle Mako, a short man with a wooden leg that creaked as he moved. Carrying something behind him, he sat down without asking for permission. Following him was a giant woman, carrying a water pouch and a big leather bag filled to the top. ¡®Uncle Mako!¡¯ Zarek thought with relief. He playfully sneered at the creature, "You are a disgrace to all beasts.¡± The creature ignored him, continuing to stand next to its master. Finally, taking a good look at his guest and especially the supposed beast that had visited him, Zarek sighed a sigh of relief. ¡°Uncle Mako, your visits are always a little unexpected.¡± he said. Suddenly recalling that he was completely naked, he quickly sat down and covered himself with his blanket, feeling embarrassed. The woman laughed heartily. ¡°No need to be embarrassed,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ve seen you running around bare-bottomed since you were a child.¡± Instead of her words comforting him, Zarek¡¯s cheeks flushed red, he quickly pulled the fur blankets tighter around himself, and he stuttered, trying to think of ways to change the subject. The lighthearted moment didn¡¯t last long. Coming to his rescue was another figure, an old man who entered right behind them, surprising everyone. ¡°Enough, Yara!!¡± he said, addressing the woman. ¡°No need to embarrass the young man.¡± ¡°Orin!!¡± Yara exclaimed before she quickly smiled and said nostalgically under her breath, ¡°I can¡¯t believe how fast these kids are growing up!¡± Greeting each other, and feeling a little crowded, everyone took a seat near the fire, except Zarek, who remained covering his privates with the blanket while exposing his upper body. Everyone put down what they brought next to them, and their faces turned serious. The mood shifted immediately, and the room grew tense. Orin wasted no time. ¡°We¡¯ve all heard,¡± he said gravely, his eyes meeting Zarek¡¯s. Mako and Yara exchanged solemn looks, and Zarek¡¯s stomach twisted with unease. He looked around at the gathered faces, confusion and dread mounting. ¡°What is going on?¡± Mako spoke first, his voice heavy. ¡°Your father¡­ Tharion¡­ he¡¯s dead.¡± The world seemed to tilt beneath Zarek¡¯s feet. He clutched the fur blanket tighter around him, his breath catching in his throat. ¡°Dead??... He is Dead? How? I just met him!!¡± Orin¡¯s gaze didn¡¯t waver. ¡°Murdered. They found a dagger in his chest.¡± Yara, her tough exterior nearly cracking, added, ¡°They found a dagger impeded into his chest!¡± pausing and with a saddened face, ¡°some are saying it¡¯s yours!!¡± The blood drained from Zarek¡¯s face. He quickly got up not caring about those around him and began looking underneath his scrambled out of bed, tossing aside the blankets as panic took hold. ¡°My dagger!¡± he exclaimed, searching desperately beneath his furs. ¡°It¡¯s gone!¡± Yara knelt beside him, her voice soft but firm. ¡°Someone is trying to frame you, Zarek. The village is already buzzing with rumors. We don¡¯t have much time.¡± ¡°The stars were spotted last night,¡± Mako intoned, his voice as heavy as the weight of the truth he carried. ¡°The time for the sacrifice draws near, and now... you''ve become the easiest target.¡± Yara¡¯s tone sharpened as she leaned closer. ¡°Human nature is cruel, Zarek. Anyone with a sliver of wit knows you didn¡¯t do it, but that won¡¯t matter. People will stay silent.¡± Orin¡¯s face twisted with a grim certainty. ¡°They won¡¯t defend you. After all, you were the last to see him. Instead, they¡¯ll push for your sacrifice, convinced that the old omen is rising once again to claim its due.¡± His laugh was hollow. ¡°Superstitions... foolish but deadly. When fear grips the heart, it cuts deeper than any blade.¡± Mako¡¯s nod was slow and deliberate. ¡°The sacrifice¡ªthe one that comes every 50 years¡ªis upon us. The shooting stars were seen last night, and with them comes the storm. People are afraid, Zarek. They¡¯ll stay quiet, lest they draw the gaze of those who would harm them... or worse.¡± Zarek¡¯s eyes darted between them, his thoughts swirling as the truth pressed down on him like a vice. Mako¡¯s expression grew more somber, his voice laced with caution. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter whether they believe you did it or not. The whispers are spreading too quickly, and whoever is behind this... they have power. Perhaps even one of the elders. No one will dare to speak against them. Not now.¡± Silence thickened around them. The weight of their words settled in Zarek¡¯s chest like a stone sinking into deep waters. He felt the familiar cold of inevitability creep into his bones. Without a word, he sank back down onto his bed and covered himself again, pulling his blankets around him as if they could shield him from what he now knew was coming. His heart felt as heavy as the keys hidden beneath the furs. He knew all too well where this was heading! Chapter 8~ Unseen Shadows The pit was cast in shadows, the air inside heavy with the weight of what had just been said. Zarek sat, his eyes dull, the shock of it all still sinking in. His mind reeled. ¡®someone is framing me?¡¯ Mako¡¯s voice broke through the thick silence. Without a word, he reached into his worn cloak and pulled out a parchment. It was yellowed with age, fragile in appearance yet invaluable. ¡°Here,¡± he said softly, unfolding it before Zarek. ¡°This is a map¡ªsomething not easily obtained. It¡¯s been in my family for generations.¡± He held it out, his hand steady despite the tremor of emotion in his voice. ¡°It leads to a hidden cave behind a waterfall, far from here. The path is narrow, difficult, but once you reach the cave, you¡¯ll be safe.¡± Yara opened the leather bag she had brought. ¡°This is filled with beef jerky,¡± she explained. ¡°It should last you about one to two months. Go and hide yourself and don¡¯t come out until the beast tide is over. And this,¡± she handed him the water pouch, ¡°This is a water pouch. Young warriors are given one before they depart, their mother makes them one as a token of their love¡­ I guess I will have to give it to you early.¡± Mako stepped forward again, this time holding out a set of leather armor. Its surface was scratched and worn, but still gleamed in the dim light of the fire. ¡°This was meant for my son¡­¡± he began, his voice catching briefly. ¡°¡­ but¡­ he never returned!¡± he said, his face a little tired, ¡°take it, may you have a better shot at surviving.¡± The air grew still, the only sound being the crackling of the fire. Zarek¡¯s throat tightened. The weight of the gifts, of the care shown to him, pressed down on him. He looked at them with wide, saddened eyes and said, ¡°Thank you¡­¡± His voice barely carried over the fire¡¯s quiet hum. Orin, who had remained silent until now, suddenly stood. ¡°You¡¯ve all made me look bad!¡± he bellowed, a half-smile crossing his face as he strode out of the pit. The others looked after him with curious eyes. He returned swiftly, carrying a large round object wrapped in cloth. He smirked as he set it down in front of Zarek, unwrapping it slowly to reveal a round wooden object laced with metal. ¡°This,¡± he said, pride in his voice, ¡°is my bow-shield. It¡¯s something I¡¯ve been working on for some time now. See?¡± He demonstrated how the shield could quickly convert into a bow. The string was hidden in a small compartment along the rim, and with a few quick motions, the transformation was complete. ¡°It¡¯s not meant for large predators, but for smaller animals¡­ like wolves,¡± he said, nodding toward the creature resting at Mako¡¯s feet. ¡°Defend yourself with the shield, strike with the spear, and if they flee, finish them with arrows.¡± He continued, ¡°This will shield you from sudden animal attacks. I¡¯ve tested it, but it also allows you to shoot from a limited range. Noone really uses a shield that often, but it will come in handy. Don¡¯t go using it against large predators; one of their hits will knock you out and it won¡¯t be long before they kill you.¡± As Orin spoke, Zarek¡¯s mind wandered. His thoughts swirled like leaves in the wind¡ªhis father¡¯s death, the crushing weight of responsibility now upon his shoulders, and the looming danger of the village¡¯s ancient superstitions. His hands tightened into fists beneath the blanket. ¡®Ha, they really are mounting a mule more than he can lift¡¯ he thought while sneering inwardly. Orin¡¯s voice snapped him out of his daze as the older man pushed the bowshield toward him. ¡°I entrust this to you, Zarek,¡± he said with uncharacteristic solemnity. ¡°Be strong, boy. Don¡¯t give up. Never give up.¡± Silence soon descended on the place, broken only by the crackling of the fire. Mako and Yara rose to their feet, their expressions grim. Zarek had hoped they would stay longer, but he knew that time was not on their side.Mako spoke first, his voice low but firm. ¡°Zarek, pack your things. You need to leave now, before anyone notices. We¡¯ll slip away quietly, just as we came. The elders won¡¯t be far behind.¡± Zarek nodded, though his mind was still clouded with confusion and disbelief. Yara stepped forward then, wrapping him in a tight embrace. She leaned in close, her breath warm against his ear as she whispere, ¡°You are a bright star. Don''t let others taint you.¡± She then stared into his face, her reflection swimming in his dark, black eyes. Hugging him again, she used one of her hands to rub his thick, dark black hair, which was coarse yet soft to the touch, each strand reflecting the firelight like tiny threads of obsidian. Tears fell onto his head as she held him tightly, making sure he didn''t see her face. Her voice broke into a song¡ªsoft, filled with emotion. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. A star so bright, in darkest night, Hold fast to hope, embrace your might. With words as tools, the strong express, Their hearts'' desires, their thoughts confess. A son once lost to fate''s cruel hand, May you find strength, and firmly stand. For words are weapons, sharp and true, They shield the weak, they pierce right through. Bright as the dawn, through shadows you tread, Do not let fear and doubt be fed. One son lost to the void¡­ so deep, May you be the one the stars let keep. Though wolves may howl and winds may wail, Hold your course, and you will prevail. Speak your truth, let your voice be heard, In times of silence, trust in your word. Luck be your guide, on this perilous night, In your heart, keep our love alight. Though tears may fall, and farewells be said, Remember the light in the path you tread. With words, you¡¯ll carve a path anew, And find the strength to see it through. When simple words can¡¯t mend your plight, Use colors bright, let them take flight. Express yourself, as I have done, And in those hues, you''ll find the sun.¡± Yara''s voice trembled as she finished, her tears mingling with the firelight. She held him close, her heart aching with the weight of the words and the uncertainty of the future. Zarek felt the strength of her embrace, the warmth of her words seeping into his soul. He drew back slightly, looking into her eyes. The depth of her love and fear mirrored his own, and for a moment, he felt a flicker of hope¡­ hope for the future! ¡°Thank you, Yara,¡± he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. ¡°I won¡¯t forget.¡± She nodded, unable to speak, her tears falling freely now. She rubbed his hair gently, as if to imprint this moment in her memory forever. Mako cleared his throat, breaking the spell. ¡°It¡¯s time, Zarek. Tread carefully and travel the world like you always wanted. We will go now before the elders come.¡± With a heavy heart, Zarek watched everyone leave before getting up to gather his belongings, the weight of his father''s words pressing down on him. The firelight flickered and danced, casting shadows that seemed to mirror the turmoil in his heart. He put on his clothes, wore the leather armor over them, and grabbed the parchment, the water pouch, and the leather armor, feeling the immense responsibility thrust upon him. Orin waited for him outside till he was done, he helped him strap on the leather armor, ensuring it was secure. ¡°Be strong, boy,¡± he repeated, patting him on his shoulder, his voice a mixture of sternness and affection. ¡°Never give up.¡± The wind outside howled as Zarek prepared to leave. The night was eerily quiet save for the distant rustle of the trees. Shadows danced as the fire flickered behind him. Without another word, Zarek stepped into the cold night, the firelight disappearing behind him like a fading memory. ¡­ Far away¡­A dimly lit chamber, cloaked in shadows, housed five figures standing before a glowing crystal ball. Their faces were hidden, their expressions masked by darkness, but the air was thick with a sense of purpose. The crystal ball swirled with light, and as it spun, a man stepped forward. His presence was commanding, his movements deliberate. He reached out with a steady hand and touched the crystal¡¯s surface. As soon as his fingers made contact, the light within intensified. The image inside the crystal began to shift, revealing a scene of thousands of shooting stars streaking across the sky. The stars seemed to fall upon a distant village nestled between towering mountains, winding valleys, and shimmering rivers. The village was isolated, hidden from the rest of the world like a long-forgotten secret. The image zoomed in further, focusing on a single figure standing at the edge of a dense forest. The young man had long, dark hair, and his dark brown eyes gleamed with a strange intensity as he gazed up at the night sky. ¡°He,¡± the man said, his voice a whisper yet full of authority, ¡°is our target. We must bring him back before the stars align.¡± The others nodded in silent agreement, their faces unreadable as they watched the figure in the crystal ball. The man who had spoken placed both hands on the ball now, his eyes narrowing in concentration. Suddenly, light began to swirl around them, enveloping each of the five figures in a radiant glow. As the light intensified, their bodies began to shift and change. When the glow finally subsided, they stood clad in shining armor, their forms imposing and formidable. The man whispered something, his words barely audible. As he did, a small door appeared in the darkness, unfolding itself as though summoned by his voice. The door creaked open, revealing a lush green hill bathed in moonlight. Without a word, they stepped through it, emerging into the cool night air. Waiting for them on the other side were five beasts¡ªmassive creatures, sleek and powerful, with coats that shimmered in the light of the moon. The beasts rushed to greet them, their eyes glinting with intelligence. Each of the five figures mounted their beast, the man who had spoken earlier pausing to whisper once more. His words were a low, incantatory murmur, and as he spoke, the air around them seemed to hum with energy. Slowly, a giant gate materialized before them, its surface ancient and worn, as though it had been standing for countless eons. With a groaning creak, the gate began to open, revealing the path ahead. The five figures exchanged a final glance before urging their beasts forward, disappearing into the night as the gate closed silently behind them. Chapter 9~ They Have Arrived!. The air was suffocating with urgent tension, the elders hurriedly made their way to the great hall. Their faces, etched with lines of worry and confusion, mirrored the collective unease that hung in the air. Some muttered under their breath, others exchanged furtive glances, all wondering what could have caused such an abrupt gathering. Some were already privy to the news, but they were still in denial. Upon entering the hall, they were met with an ominous sight. Elder Varek stood there hunched, his figure casting long unsettling shadows in the dim light. Guards were stationed inside, a violation of the sacred custom that forbade their presence in the elders¡¯ hall. Yet, the elders were not focused on that, instead, their eyes quickly shifted to something even more alarming...a body, shrouded in a white cloth, lay motionless on the floor. Besides it was Varek who remained silent, his face a mask of grim determination. Standing to his right was his daughter. She was sobbing quietly, her tears streaming down her cheeks. Illuminated by the flickering glow of torches, casting long shadows on the stone walls, the scene was unsettling. The elders¡¯ faces became stern and weathered, they were etched with concern and determination. They exchanged anxious glances, their unease now deepening. Some of them knew the situation, yet they were still in disbelief. ¡°What happened, Varek? Why have you summoned us here?¡± Jorim demanded, his voice a mix of irritation, worry, and denial as he was still in shock. Without a word, Varek knelt down and pulled back the cloth, revealing the fragile, lifeless body beneath. Gasps echoed through the hall as the elders recognized the face of the deceased. Lyra stepped back terrified, her hand flying to her mouth. ¡°it¡¯s¡­ Tharion!¡± The hall fell into a tense, oppressive quiet, the gravity of her words sinking in. The elders knew that whatever was to come, it would test the very fabric of their community. Lifting the cloth further, a dagger was soon revealed, protruding from Tharion¡¯s chest; its hilt adorned with intricate, ominous designs. The sight of it sent a chill through the room. Rina¡¯s eyes widened in shock. ¡°Who could have done this?¡± Alaric clenched his fists, his voice trembling with a mix of anger and sorrow. ¡°Who would dare to kill one of us in our own homes?¡± Elder Jorim shook his head in denial. ¡°what motives did they have!.¡± The initial shock began to give way to a profound sorrow. Tharion had been a respected elder, a pillar of their community. His death left a void none of them were prepared to face. The heavy doors creaked open, and Aren entered, his presence commanding immediate silence. He crouched down to examine the body, his face unreadable. He removed the cloth completely and put it to the side. What met him and everyone else was the body of Tharion, his long brown hair spread out like a fan. His body was thin but firm with muscles, covered entirely in fur. The scene was both serene and tragic, the flickering torchlight casting eerie shadows on his still form. After a tense moment of just staring, he looked up, his gaze icy. ¡°Everyone, except for the elders and two guards, leave the hall!!¡± Aren ordered, his voice leaving no room for objection. The room emptied swiftly, leaving only the elders and the two guards standing in a somber circle. Aren placed his hands on Theron''s body, and with deliberate care, he removed the leather covering the upper body. He proceeded with his bare hands to rip the tunic he was wearing, revealing the fatal wounds. His eyes closed, and he began humming. Noone dared to speak, they knew not to interpret a shaman while he works. He placed some stones down and continued humming, blue lights began revolving around him spooking those near, and causing them to distance themselves. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. It took some time, but without any warning, his eyes snapped open, his mouth started moving. He began to glow with the same color revolving around him as he began to speak¡­ his speech no longer flowing like normal, but in rhymes as if describing an event he was currently seeing, ¡°A toxic fate... ejected with hate! The killer on the loose... he doesn''t have an excuse! Poison in the vein... it brought great pain. Betrayed by kin... or a foe within? Suspicion in the air... deceit everywhere.¡± The other elders listened intently, the shadows of the flickering torches dancing across their faces. Their eyes were taking turns looking at the still warm corpse! Their emotions were unstable as they all felt conflicted on what to do, someone murdering an elder in his home wasn¡¯t something they have seen! Varek stepped forward, his face solemn. ¡°I and my daughter were ordered to leave the resident so Zarek and Theron could speak privately. As we attended to our duties in the village, the servant who brings water to Theron home stumbled on the gruesome seen, she found him dead, a dagger embedded in his heart.¡± He said, stressing the fact he was nowhere near Theron before his death, ¡°We were then notified, they called us while we were taking care of some wounded hunters, they can testify that we were with them for the majority of the day! I¡¯ve asked around and Nobody nearby saw anyone enter the cabin, they only saw Zarek leaving!¡± Alaric narrowed his eyes. ¡°Bring the hunters!¡± he ordered Two injured hunters, bandages visible on their arms and legs, were brought before the elders first. ¡°These men can confirm our whereabouts,¡± Varek continued. ¡°We were tending to their injured, and my daughter was with me helping.¡± The first hunter, a tall man with a rugged face, nodded. ¡°It¡¯s true. They were both with us, tending to our wounds after a difficult hunt." The second hunter, a younger man, added, ¡°We saw them the entire afternoon. They didn¡¯t leave our side.¡± Jorim, his voice gruff, questioned them. ¡°And you¡¯re certain of this? No chance they could have slipped away?¡± The first hunter shook his head. ¡°No, Elder Jorim. They were with us the whole time.¡± Aren straightened himself, the light revolving around slowly died and faded. He gathered the stones and stored them away. his voice carrying an edge of finality, spoke up. ¡°We must act swiftly. Tharion¡¯s death is a grave matter, and we cannot delay in uncovering the truth.¡± The elders exchanged uneasy glances, their minds spinning with suspicion and doubt. Varek seized the moment, stepping forward with a grave look in his eyes. ¡°Zarek was the last to see Tharion alive, and the dagger in his chest¡­ belongs to Zarek¡± Lyra¡¯s eyes narrowed as she fixed her gaze on Varek. ¡°And you believe Zarek would do this? To his own father?¡± Varek¡¯s expression hardened. ¡°I do not make accusations lightly. But the signs point to him. We cannot ignore what¡¯s before us.¡± Alaric frowned. ¡°That¡¯s a serious accusation, Varek. We cannot condemn the boy without solid evidence that the dagger is his.¡± Jorim nodded in agreement. ¡°Zarek has always been an outcast, but that doesn¡¯t make him a murderer.¡± Rina added. ¡°Enough!! There is no point of this, we need to bring Zarek here and question him ourselves.¡± She said, and turning around toward the guard who was escorting the hunters out, she ordered, ¡°bring Zarek here!!¡± The guard nodded, and rushed on his way. The elders continued their deliberation, their voices low but urgent. They debated possible motives and suspects, their words tinged with fear and suspicion. Possible leads popped up, possible clues, and even possibly names, and a name that the elders didn''t expect to hear was that of Zarek It took a few minutes later, but when the guard that was dispatched to fetch Zarek returned, his face was pale and his voice trembled. ¡°Elders, Zarek¡­ Zarek is gone. His belongings, everything¡­ they¡¯ve vanished.¡± The hall fell into stunned silence once more, the weight of the situation pressing down like an iron fist. The elders stood frozen, the implications of Zarek¡¯s disappearance heavy on their hearts. Shocked gasps and murmurs filled the room as the elders processed the news. Aren¡¯s rhymes still echoed in their minds, and it seemed as if they all understood the underlying meaning. Aren, noticing the shift in the atmosphere laid down the stones again, his eyes now filled with a red glow, and he began to silently pray. It took him merely a moment before he spoke, ¡°The killer is on the loose, he has no excuse! The signs are clear, fate draws near. Beware the night, for stars'' might. They are upon our doors, wishing for wars. We must steer clear, for trouble is near!¡± The words sent a chill through the gathered elders, the gravity of Aren¡¯s prophecy settling over them like a suffocating shroud. The room was thick with suspicion and dread. Varek took the opportunity to press forward. ¡°Zarek must be captured. He is a danger to us all. We should have dealt with this years ago when the stars first warned us.¡± Alaric stepped forward, his voice resolute. ¡°We must not act in haste, Varek. We will find Zarek and bring him back here to answer for this. Only then can we uncover the truth.¡± Jorim nodded firmly. ¡°We owe it to Tharion to find the truth, but we also owe it to Zarek to give him a chance to explain himself.¡± The tension in the room remained thick as the elders prepared to move. But before they could act, the hall doors flew open, and a guard stumbled in, his face pale as death. ¡°They¡­ they have come!¡± he gasped, terror dripping from his voice. The elders turned to face him, their expressions hardening. The time for deliberation was over. The storm had arrived. Chapter 10~ Captured Whispers and murmurs spread like wildfire among the guards stationed outside the elders¡¯ hall. ¡°Did you hear?¡± one guard whispered anxiously to his comrade. ¡°The messengers of the stars have arrived!¡± Another guard clenched his spear tightly, his face pale under the flickering torchlight. ¡°This isn¡¯t supposed to happen yet... Something¡¯s wrong,¡± he muttered. ¡°Last time they came, disaster followed,¡± a third guard added in a hushed tone. ¡°I hope we aren¡¯t facing that kind of calamity again.¡± Inside the hall, the elders turned to the panicked guard who had rushed in, their faces etched with confusion and fear. ¡°Who has come?¡± Elder Lyra¡¯s voice cut through the thick tension, her brow furrowed in worry. The guard¡¯s eyes darted between the elders, his voice shaky as he tried to respond. ¡°The... the messengers of the stars... they¡¯ve arrived!¡± A stunned silence fell over the room, the words settling like a heavy weight on the air. Elder Varek¡¯s face drained of color, his voice tight with fear. ¡°It¡¯s too soon!¡± he exclaimed. ¡°They shouldn¡¯t be here yet!¡± The room buzzed with rising dread as the elders exchanged looks of disbelief. Even those who had once appeared composed now showed signs of faltering under the weight of the news. Elder Rina was the first to break the silence. ¡°If this is anything like last time¡­¡± Her words trailed off, leaving an ominous tension hanging in the air. Aren quickly regained his composure and turned to the guards standing at the entrance. ¡°Escort them to my residence immediately,¡± he ordered, his voice stern and sharp. ¡°And make sure they stay away from the village! Do whatever they ask, but do not anger them. I cannot stress this enough!¡± The guards nodded hastily, retreating with worried expressions as they went to fulfill Aren¡¯s command. Turning back to the elders, Aren¡¯s voice dropped to a grave tone. ¡°We don¡¯t have much time. We must find who Zarek, they will probably look for him¡ªthe fate of our entire village depends on it!¡± The elders exchanged uneasy glances, their earlier anger and sorrow now replaced by fear. The weight of the village¡¯s survival bore down heavily on their shoulders as they prepared to act. --- Zarek moved swiftly through the shadows of the village, his steps light and deliberate as he kept close to the towering wooden fence. He couldn''t help but glance up at its looming height. The fence, standing strong at five meters tall, had withstood the onslaught of countless threats¡ªboth man and beast. As he continued to move, the faint sound of footsteps caught his attention. ¡°Yip... Yip... Yip... Yip...¡± The rhythmic stomping of the village guards echoed through the night, their leather armor gleaming in the torchlight as they made their rounds. ¡®How will I leave with the guards watching the gates?¡¯ Zarek wondered, panic starting to creep into his mind. The memories of the beast tide, the terrifying growls and roars that echoed through the village each , flooded his mind. It was always the same¡ªa time of chaos, when the creatures of the forest awakened and surged forward in a desperate bid for survival. Suddenly, a strong hand clamped down on his shoulder. Zarek¡¯s heart raced as he prepared to defend himself, but before he could react, another hand covered his mouth. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. He turned his head, eyes widening as he recognized the deep gray eyes of Brannik, Elder Alaric¡¯s right hand. Before Zarek could protest, Brannik struck him sharply on the back of the head, and darkness overtook his vision. The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was the flicker of torchlight reflecting off the armor of the approaching guards. As the darkness swallowed him, thoughts of regret and guilt filled Zarek¡¯s mind. ¡®will they turn me in? Is this how my journey ends? It¡¯s pathetic, but I guess I have lived enough, I was supposed to be dead anyway!!¡¯ he wondered as his dark eyes shook, his eye lids slowly closing. Dark thoughts slowly started filling his mind as he imagined himself being tied and sacrificed. ¡®I hope it¡¯s for the greater good¡­¡¯ that was his last thought before he saw a flicker of his mother¡¯s figure in the torchlight¡­ everything then went black. ¡­ Zarek found himself taken back to a place he never wanted to visit, a time he never want to go back to, this was one of the nightmares that plagued him since he was nine years old. His mother was pregnant, and he was being bullied by other kids his age. They taunted him, saying he was not welcomed or loved by the village. The accused him as being the cause of all the destruction and misfortune in the village.¡°You¡¯re better off dead!¡± one of them sneered. Zarek ran home, snot streaming down his face as he held back his tears. ¡°Mother, is it true that the stars don¡¯t want me?¡± he asked, his voice trembling. His mother, a gentle and kind woman, hugged him tightly. ¡°Zarek, ignore what others say. You are a shining beacon of hope,¡± she whispered, her voice soothing. Tears fell involuntarily from his eyes.¡°Is it better that I¡¯m dead?¡± he asked, his voice breaking. His mother hugged him tighter. ¡°Never think that, Zarek. You are our hope. Your father and I named you Zarek because we believed you would shine the brightest.¡± Yara, standing behind, was angered by the boy¡¯s words. ¡°Who told you that?¡± she demanded, storming off to teach the bullies a lesson. As the wind picked up, lifting his mother¡¯s black hair with it, Zarek vision blurred, and he found himself transported to another painful memory. Tap! Tap! His father was pacing outside their home, women rushing in and out. It was the day his mother was giving birth. Grunts of pain echoed from inside, and his father paced nervously while Zarek watched him quietly. ¡®Will this be like the last time?¡¯ he wondered. ¡®will I become a bigger brother or will they die again¡¯ Suddenly, the grunts stopped. Both father and son sighed in relief, they were too used to this routine by now. They thought it was over, but as time passed with no news, their relief turned to worry, then rage. Zarek¡¯s father slammed the door open. Inside, all the women were surrounding his wife, crying. Yara, upon seeing him, started wailing loudly. Zarek stood at the entrance, frozen. The midwife stumbled as she got up, kneeling in front of Zarek¡¯s father. ¡°I couldn¡¯t save her, my lord,¡± she sobbed. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, she lost too much blood!¡± Tears streamed down her face. All the women knelt, repeating their apologies. Zarek¡¯s father was in shock, falling to his knees. ¡°Why?¡± he mumbled, then screamed, ¡°Why must the stars do this to me?¡± Zarek stood in shock, his blood freezing. His father turned to him with a glare filled with hatred, a glare that terrified him. ¡®Was this all my fault?¡¯ he stuttered in his thoughts. Before he could remember anything else, water splashed in his face, jolting him awake. ¡­ The sound of rushing water pulled Zarek back to consciousness. He awoke with a start, coughing violently as water poured down his face and into his lungs. It rushed into every hole and crevice it could find. Gasping for breath, Zarek blinked away the water and looked around. His eyes settled on a pair of brown leather boots standing in front of him, polished and pristine. His gaze slowly traveled upwards, taking in the sight of the armored figure sitting before him. His vision centering on a the armor this figure was wearing, which didn¡¯t look worn out, instead they looked as if they were well taken care of. As he looked up further, he got a glimpse at the sitting armored figure. He was wearing armor that covered every part of his body, from his feet all the way to his head. Only two things could be seen, some strands of gray hair that was sticking out, and a pair of sharp sky blue eyes that were steering into the depth of their onlookers souls. Standing near him was a man on his right, he was standing a little behind him, shadow covering most of his features. To his left was a woman, her figure was striking, she was slender, and despite the cold, her attire exposed much of her fair skin, showcasing a body both strong and alluring. It left little to the imagination. The minimal leather armor she wore hugged her curves tightly, her long, toned legs and defined waist were on full display, with her armor highlighting the gentle curve of her hips and the swell of her chest. Her long, dark brown hair was tied back, drawing attention to her sharp, calculating green eyes. She confident stood there, casually leaning on a long carved staff. Attempting to lift his hand, he failed! *Shink!!* was the only sound that reverted into his ears. Looking down, he saw realized with horror that his wrists and ankles were bound tightly and shackled, thick chains binding his hands and feet. He was kneeling on a cold, hard floor, tightly tied, unable to get up. The figure sitting before him chuckled darkly, while the woman beside him smirked with amusement. Chapter 11~ Whispers of Accusation ¡°Did you hear the news? Zarek was caught trying to escape!¡± one guard whispered to his comrade.¡± I heard it too! They say he was taken down just as he was trying to slip out of the village,¡± another replied, eyes wide with disbelief. The guards had gathered in small groups, murmuring amongst themselves. To many of them, the idea of Zarek¡ªa boy they had always known as quiet and outcast¡ªattempting to flee the village, especially after the death of his father, was beyond shocking. ¡°But that¡¯s not all. Rumor has it, he was the last one seen with his father before he died,¡± the first guard continued, lowering his voice even further. ¡±Are you saying¡­ Zarek killed his own father?¡± another guard asked, his face growing pale. ¡°It seems like it. The elders¡¯ servants are saying there¡¯s enough evidence to accuse him of the murder. It¡¯s hard to believe, but the village is buzzing about it. Some even claim they saw Zarek sneaking around the village late at night before his father was found.¡± The guard listening clenched his spear tighter. ¡°How can that be? Zarek barely ever spoke to anyone. Why would he murder his own father?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± the first guard responded, shaking his head. ¡°But they say the proof is undeniable. The elders have him now. They¡¯ll get the truth out of him soon enough.¡± ¡°Poor kid,¡± one of the younger guards whispered, barely audible above the murmurs of his comrades. ¡°To think I used to see him running around the village fence gathering herbs, barely noticeable, and now¡­ now he¡¯s accused of murder.¡± Another guard nodded solemnly. ¡°This whole situation is a mess. His father was a respected elder, and now¡­ with Zarek caught trying to escape¡­ it¡¯s hard to say what comes next. Even if he didn¡¯t do it, him trying to escape paints a different narrative¡± ... Within the chamber, Zarek knelt in chains, his hands and feet bound tightly. The flickering torchlight cast dark shadows over the stone walls, and the cold air was thick with tension. Across from him stood the elder, his sharp blue eyes piercing through the gloom. The elder¡¯s voice cut through the silence like a blade. ¡°Don¡¯t concern yourself with where you are, boy,¡± he said coldly. ¡°You should be more concerned with why you are here.¡± The man standing beside the elder stepped forward, his face obscured by shadows. ¡°You¡¯ve been accused of killing your father,¡± he announced, his tone final, carrying the weight of judgment. Zarek¡¯s heart dropped, the words echoing in his mind, filling him with dread. He struggled against the chains, his voice breaking as he cried out. ¡°I didn¡¯t do it!¡± He shouted, his eyes burning with desperation as he glared at Brannik, the man who had caught him. The woman to the elder¡¯s left stepped forward, a cruel smile curling at her lips. Her emerald eyes gleamed in the torchlight as she began to speak, her voice filled with accusation: ¡°A boy running away in the dead of night, Within him, a bundle of fright. Caught unexpected, he struggles with might, Why was he running, and for whom does he fight? A father¡¯s death, so sudden, so grim, Yet the son departs, not caring for him. What secrets do you harbor, what truth do you hide, Leaving behind, in the shadows, you bide? Your father¡¯s end, with poison and pain, A son¡¯s duty neglected, is this your gain? To flee the scene, and leave without care, The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Is this the legacy that you dare to share?¡± Zarek¡¯s breath caught in his throat, the weight of his father¡¯s death pressing down on him. Every word felt like a blade, cutting deep into his soul. His father¡­ gone¡­ And now this? ¡°I... I didn¡¯t do anything...¡± he stammered, his voice trembling. The woman¡¯s voice grew sharper, cutting through his words like a blade: ¡°Yet here you are, in chains and despair, Your actions speak louder than the words you declare. Why did you flee, what drove you away, From the body of Tharion, cold and grey? Your keys, so heavy, your burden so great, What role did you play in sealing his fate? The stars may demand, and the village may cry, But only the truth can absolve this lie.¡± Gathering his courage and recalling the words of Yare, Zarek replied in kind, his voice steadying with resolve: ¡°A shackled lad in despair, They accuse him of fleeing without a care. A father¡¯s death, with poison and pain, Meeting him after years, what did I gain? They treat me like an outcast, no place to fit in, The only regret, not dying with kin. For whom did I fight, why did I leave, Questions they ask, but they won''t believe. My father''s last words, elders he named, Each one with a debt, none left unclaimed. I make a deal, for benefit both, To find the truth, to honor an oath. Hear my plea, understand my plight, Help me clear my name, reveal the night.¡± The room fell silent, the flickering torches casting eerie shadows on the stone walls. The elder and the strange woman exchanged glances, their expressions shifting from skepticism to contemplation. The elder smirked, his tone turning mocking as he replied in a similar way: ¡°A boy or a devil, what fate do you see, A deal you propose, but it won¡¯t come free. Your father, a cunning fox in the night, Now trapped in his own game, without a fight. A serpent¡¯s wiles, a fox¡¯s den, A son¡¯s plea lost among men. The game is played, the pieces set, Fate¡¯s cruel hand, a devil¡¯s debt. The matter is tangled, beyond your hand, You''ve fallen prey to a sinister plan. In the web of vultures, you twist and turn, The fire of deceit, let it burn and churn.¡± Zarek¡¯s hope wavered, the elder¡¯s words twisting in his mind like a cruel joke. His fate seemed sealed, his attempts to fight back futile. The elder gave a slight nod to Brannik, who approached Zarek silently, his footsteps echoing ominously in the hall. Standing right behind Zarek, he leaned down and whispered, his voice a low, haunting rhyme as if mocking him: ¡°A tragic path must you walk, They''ve caught you now, you must be in shock. Your fate is determined, steel your heart, A sacrifice you will become, you were smart. To escape, to run, to leave this curse, What you thought was bad might be worse.¡± With a swift strike, Brannik hit Zarek hard at the back of his head. Zarek crumpled to the floor, the cold stone biting into his skin as his vision darkened. He could hear the faint murmurs of the elders above him, but their words were lost in the growing blackness that swallowed him whole. ¡­ Outside the village, the guards and villagers stood in stunned silence as the glowing figures grew closer, their strange light illuminating the forest edge like fireflies in the night. The tension was thick, and fear rippled through the crowd. ¡°Who are they?¡± one villager whispered, clutching their torch tightly. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± another replied, voice trembling. ¡°But they glow¡­ like something not of this world.¡± The guards atop the archery towers exchanged uneasy glances, their hands shaking as they gripped their weapons. One guard dared to speak, ¡°Are they beasts? Why do they glow?¡± ¡°No, not beasts¡­¡± another guard muttered back. ¡°Something much worse, perhaps.¡± The five riders appeared as silhouettes in the blinding light, mounted on massive beasts with dark coats and gleaming horns. Their armor shone in the light, their identities obscured by the glowing radiance surrounding them. ¡°STOP!¡± one guard called out from the tower, his voice trembling with uncertainty. But the riders didn¡¯t stop¡ªthey advanced, their pace steady and unrelenting. ¡°STOP OR WE WILL SHOOT!¡± a man amongst the guards threatened, his voice loud and steady. Still, the riders ignored him, they continued pushing forward. The man lit an arrow and let it fly¡ªa warning shot. The arrow landed at the feet of the lead rider, startling the beasts and bringing them to a halt. The smaller rider riding in the back tightly held his reins and approached, his eyes wild and filled with malice, gripped a dagger tightly, he raised his hand. Energy crackled around him as if he was ready to unleash fury on the village. The lead rider raised a hand, prompting the smaller man to stop. He removed his helmet, revealing a face marked by a star-shaped symbol on his forehead. His silver eyes glinted in the torchlight, his blonde hair shining in the eerie glow. ¡°We come with a purpose,¡± the man announced, his voice calm and commanding. ¡°Stand down, and we will explain.¡± Terror rippled through the crowd. Orin, standing in the front after firing the arrow, could feel his heart pounding in his chest, but he stood proud and firm and didn¡¯t back dow. He knew what the star-shaped mark meant. He had heard the stories, but to see it in person¡­ it filled him with dread. The smaller rider¡¯s eyes darted to his leader, then to the Orin, his dagger still glowing with energy. For a moment, it seemed as if the air itself had stilled, the tension so thick it was suffocating. The villagers held their breath, unsure whether the next moment would bring peace or devastation. The torchlight flickered in the darkness, casting long, distorted shadows on the village walls, as if the very air around them was bracing for something terrible to come. Chapter 12~ The Challenger The small rider hesitated, his wild eyes darted toward his companions, who shook their heads. He didn¡¯t lower his dagger, instead, he in turn, observed the wild men who were crazy enough to face him with low quality spears and arrows. It was a standstill, the flickering torchlight casted uneasy shadows, illuminating the messengers¡¯ disdainful eyes. Their expressions were unseen, yet the look they gave was full of contempt, their contempt evident in their postures. They looked down on the guards, viewing them as mear ants. ¡°Lower your weapons!!!¡± Brannik shouted as he quickly approched, clearing the way and rushing toward the front. Having just arrived and seeing the star on the man¡¯s forehead, he understood full wall that everyone will get wiped out if any of the riders wished. ¡°Conceal your dagger, Rael, they wish us no harm!!¡± the blond haired man commanded. The short man though reluctant, complied, the energy around him dissipating as he sheathed his dagger. The guards watched with bated breath, their fear palpable. ¡°What is your purpose?¡± Brannik questioned, his gaze never wavering from the five riders. ¡°We are here for the Challenger,¡± the man replied, his voice echoing with authority. ¡°Notify your elders.¡± Brannik studied the man, his eyes narrowing. ¡°And who are you to make such demands in our village?¡± he asked despite already knowing the identity of the five! Rael¡¯s hazel eyes gleamed, fire seemed to swim in them. ¡°We are the messengers of those from above, do not ask what you already know!!¡± The tension was thick, but Brannik finally nodded. ¡°Very well. I will send someone to inform the elders¡­ but I will have to apologize for not being able to let you in till I hear back!¡± not waiting for their response, he turned his head toward one of the guards near him and nodded. His eyes were clear, they hinted an order that quickly was relayed to the guard, who after understanding the message bowed and dashed off to deliver the news. The leader of the riders shook his head. ¡°We have no intention of causing harm. We seek only what has been foretold.¡± He announced, before he along the others tuned back and distancing themselves. Once enough distance was made, the riders exchanged looks, their expressions a mix of pity and scorn as their eyes continued to observe the villagers in front of them. ¡°Why are they so barbaric?¡± one of the women asked, her voice tinged with disbelief. ¡°They are contaminated,¡± the third man among them said, his tone matter-of-fact. ¡°That¡¯s why they live this way. They cannot learn the arts and are merely remnants of the past.¡± ¡­ The guard soon returned, his face still panicking and his heart racing; he whispered into Brannik¡¯s ear and waited for a response. After receiving a nod, he approached the five messengers and bowed respectfully. ¡°Please, follow me,¡± he said, holding a torch to light their way. The messengers didn¡¯t ask him their destination, instead, they followed him into the forest, their beasts moving silently through the underbrush. Animals scattered as they sensed the formidable presence of these intruders. The path led them alongside a river, its gentle flow a stark contrast to the tension in the air. Eventually, they reached a clearing where a huge cabin stood, a large structure that seemed out of place in the primitive village. The guard bowed again, indicating to the cabin. ¡°Rest here for the night. I will return in the morning to escort you.¡± If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. The middle-aged leader nodded, and watched the guard retract his steps and leave. Finally, he gestured to his companies, and they all dismounted. The girl with the glowing eyes let out a tired sigh as her light dimmed. The now quiet young man whispered a few words, and a dim red light traveled the area around them. ¡°No danger,¡± he announced, having completed a complete scan of the area. The leader nodded in satisfaction, he whispered a few words, and hay was conjured out of nowhere. He turned to the man besides him and nodded. Understanding the hint, the man proceed to tie their beasts. The boy assisted him, and soon the beasts were securely fastened with food and water in front of them. The group entered the cabin, it was pitch black, and everything was dark. ¡°Lara!!¡± the leader called, and the girl who had flickered the light earlier snapped her fingers, igniting all the dormant torches inside. The cabin was vast and well-constructed, far superior to the villagers¡¯ homes. However, the young man still looked around in disdain. ¡°This place is filthy,¡± he muttered, a scowl on his face. He whispered something, and a red, glowing fire began to spread throughout the cabin. The flames did not burn anything but instead cleansed the area, disintegrating bugs, removing dust, and purifying the air. The girls nodded in approval, smiling at the transformation. The cabin, though now clean, lacked furniture. The middle-aged man whispered an incantation, making an unlocking gesture, and objects began to appear out of thin air. Five beds, complete with furnishings, materialized. Lyra gestured with her hand and light covered the beds who she controlled to float into separate rooms. Satisfied, the messengers removed their helmets, revealing their faces. Their skins were pale as if they hadn¡¯t seen the sun in years, they hair came in a variety of unique colors, and they all had a white star etched into the middle of their foreheads. There were three males and two females. The males were of three different age groups, while the women, although similar in age, also stood out in their own unique ways. Rael, the youngest, had a fiery presence. His red hair was styled into a mullet hawk, giving him a rebellious look. His hazel eyes were a deep shade of brown, almost smoldering under the dim light. Every movement he made seemed to crackle with energy. Their leader appeared to be in his Fourtie, exuding authority and confidence. His blond hair reached down to his shoulders, catching the flicker of the firelight. His piercing silver eyes reflected a mix of wisdom and determination. The third male was a man in his twenties, caught between youth and full maturity. His hair was a dark, dirty green, cut short with the sides styled into a neat fade. His eyes, as black as ink, conveyed a constant sense of brooding intensity. His sulking face added to his enigmatic aura, making him seem like a shadow moving through the night. Lyra possessed an understated grace. Her blond hair was tied in a neat ponytail, but when released, it flowed down to the end of her back like a golden waterfall. Her clear blue eyes contrasted sharply with the night¡¯s darkness. She moved with quiet elegance, her steps barely making a sound. Next to her was another woman of similar height but markedly different in appearance. Her short, pink hair was striking against the dull surroundings, and her eyes were a unique shade of purple, like amethyst gems catching the light. She had an air of calm confidence, her demeanor both soothing and comforting. As they laid down their armor and prepared to rest, the room filled with the soft clinks of metal and the rustle of fabric. Their expressions relaxed slightly as they settled in for the night, the tension of their journey easing away. Rael was the first to leave and the others followed suit, each retreating to their rooms, leaving the cabin in a serene, temporary, peace. ¡­ Far away from the village, deep within the heart of the mountain, a solitary figure sat in a dark chamber. The walls were lined with glowing blue stones, their light faint but steady. In the center of the room, seated on a rock bed, a man meditated in silence. His breath was slow and even, his body perfectly still. Yet his lips moved in a barely perceptible whisper, mumbling words that were hard to decipher. The room was filled with an eerie stillness, broken only by the soft hum of energy surrounding the glowing stones. Suddenly, his voice grew clearer. ¡°Who... are they... here for?¡± he whispered, the words barely audible, yet full of tension. A storm of light circled around him, swirling faster and faster. The blue rocks began to move, levitating into the air as they floated above the man¡¯s head. The glow intensified, casting strange shadows across the chamber as the stones came together to form an image¡ªa crude drawing of a young man with long hair. The meditating figure¡¯s eyes snapped open, glowing with the same ethereal light as the stones. He studied the image for a moment, his lips curling into a knowing smile. ¡°It¡¯s just as I thought,¡± he whispered to himself. With a final nod, the stones fell to the ground with a heavy thud, their light fading rapidly. The room was plunged into darkness once more, leaving the man alone in the void, his presence an ominous shadow in the stillness. The only sound left was his slow, even breathing, as he sat, waiting for what was to come. Chapter 13~ Taken The first light of dawn crept over the horizon, casting a pale glow on the landscape as the world slowly came to life. The air was cool and crisp, carrying with it the scent of dew-covered grass and the earthy aroma of damp soil. Birds began their morning choirs, their melodies echoing through the trees, while the gentle murmur of a nearby stream provided a soothing atmosphere. It was a peaceful morning, the kind that whispered promises of calm and tranquility. But beneath this serene facade, the land stirred with an undercurrent of dread. Far from the peaceful scene of dawn breaking, many groups of covered knights made their appearances, appearing out of thin air and quickly moving with purpose through the foreign land, their armor gleaming coldly in the dim light. Each group was a grim force of inevitability, their presence carrying a fate that could not be denied. They rode in silence, the only sounds accompanying them being the clink of their armor and the steady rhythm of their mounts'' hooves on the hard ground. Each group heading toward their own destinations, sealing the fate of innoncent mortals who weren¡¯t expecting them. ¡­ In a village hidden deep within the earth, a place known only to those who sought refuge from the outside world. This village, carved into the walls of a vast cavern, was a sanctuary for those who wished to remain unseen. The entrance was concealed by a waterfall that tumbled down from the cliffs above, its roar masking the sounds of life within. The villagers had built their homes into the rock, using bioluminescent mushrooms to light their paths and their lives. The soft, pulsing glow of the mushrooms cast an eerie, otherworldly light throughout the cavern, illuminating the faces of those who called this place home. As the knights approached, their presence was noted by the village leader, an old man with a face as weathered as the stone around him. His eyes, dark and deep, held the weight of many years of wisdom and sorrow. He knew what was coming before the knights even spoke, and his heart sank with the knowledge. One of the knights stepped forward, his armor catching the dim light of the mushrooms. From within his gauntleted hand, he produced a small, glowing device. With a flick of his wrist, the device projected an image into the air¡ªa faint, ghostly visage of a young man, his features obscured but unmistakable to those who knew him. ¡°Do you recognize this face?¡± the knight''s voice echoed through the cavern, cold and devoid of compassion. The village leader closed his eyes, his shoulders slumping as the weight of the question settled on him, it was his grandchild. He nodded slowly, the motion almost imperceptible. The villagers, sensing the gravity of the situation, parted in silence to reveal a small figure standing at the back of the crowd. It was a boy, no more than seven years old, his wide eyes filled with confusion and fear. His mother clung to him, her hands trembling as she held him close. ¡°Please,¡± she whispered, her voice thick with desperation, ¡°don¡¯t take him. He¡¯s just a child.¡± The knight¡¯s gaze did not waver. He took a step forward, and the villagers stepped aside, leaving the boy and his mother exposed. The old village leader stepped forward, placing a hand on the mother¡¯s shoulder. ¡°We cannot defy the heavens,¡± he said quietly, his voice tinged with resignation. The mother¡¯s grip tightened on her son, but the knights were unmoved by her pleas. With a practiced, unfeeling motion, they pried the boy from her arms. The cavern filled with the sound of her anguished cries as her son was led away, the echoes of her pain lingering long after the knights had gone. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡­ Scenes like this were repeating across the vast broad lands. Scenes of helpless tears and heartaches were unfolding across every corner of the realm. In a vibrant village hidden deep within an ancient forest, where homes were made of luminous mushrooms, a stern village leader watched in grim silence as knights arrived to take a teenage boy. His father, too fearful to meet his son''s eyes, stood helpless as the boy was handed over, leaving behind a village suffused with sorrow and regret. High in the cold, isolated mountains, another village faced the same fate. The knights approached a small community clinging to the cliffs, where an elderly woman, held the last of her family. She clung desperately to her young granddaughter, while begging for her not to be taken away, but the knights, unwavering in their task, pried the girl from her grasp. As she was led away, tears streamed down her face, the grandmother''s sobs echoed through the mountains, marking the end of her world as she knew it. These tragic scenes of separation, fear, and despair repeated endlessly, village after village, as the knights carried out their grim mission across the land. ¡­ Far from the sorrow and misery that enveloped the villages, a group of five knights began to stir from their slumber. Their leader, was the first to rise, his movements slow and deliberate as he rubbed his eyes and cleared his throat. The weight of their mission hung over him, but he pushed it aside, focusing instead on the routine of the morning. Stepping outside, he inhaled the crisp morning air. The landscape was peaceful, the gentle murmur of a nearby stream providing a soothing backdrop. He walked towards the stream, his breath visible in the chilly air, and found a small, cleared area where he could take a moment for himself. With a mere whisper, a bathtub materialized out of thin air, and with a focused murmur, he drew water from the stream. The water floated towards him, bubbling and steaming as it neared, before settling into the tub. The warmth of the water contrasted sharply with the cold morning air. As he undressed, folding his tunic and pants neatly to the side, Thalan¡¯s pale skin and chiseled frame came into view, marked by numerous scars¡ªeach a testament to battles fought and survived. Unfazed by the chill, he immersed himself in the steaming water, closing his eyes and breathing deeply, letting the warmth seep into his muscles, easing the tension of the previous days. His brief moment of peace was interrupted as the door to their residence swung open. The boy with fiery red hair emerged, wearing only shorts, his well-defined body catching the early light. He smirked at the sight of man relaxing in the tub. ¡°Are you going to be in there all day, Thalan?¡± he teased, his voice playful yet impatient. Thalan smiled and stood, water cascading off his body in a series of small streams. A towel appeared out of nowhere, and he wrapped it around himself. ¡°All yours,¡± he replied, stepping aside. Real nodded and approached the tub, whispering a few words. Flames flickered around the water, not burning it but instead purifying and reheating it. He slid into the tub, sighing with relief as the warmth enveloped him. Before he could fully relax, a rustling sound caught their attention. Both men tensed, readying themselves for whatever might emerge from the shadows. The boy began muttering incantations, his fingers twitching in preparation for a confrontation. But Thalan, sensing a familiar presence, raised his hand to stop him. ¡°It¡¯s just the guard from yesterday,¡± he said. Sure enough, the guard emerged from the bushes, his expression a mix of wariness and determination. ¡°Elder Aren is waiting to speak with you,¡± he informed them, his tone respectful. Thalan nodded, gesturing for the guard to wait outside. The guard, understanding, took his post outside the cabin, his eyes occasionally drifting to the boy as he continued his bath. Returning to the cabin, Thalan retrieved a small bell and rang it. The sound was loud and clear, resonating through the morning air and startling those still in slumber. They stirred with annoyance but quickly became alert, the urgency of the day pulling them from their grogginess. The women in the group snapped on their armor with practiced ease, a quick flick of their fingers banishing the last traces of sleep from their eyes. Despite their readiness, their expressions were far from cheerful¡ªeach wore the weight of their mission in the set of their shoulders and the furrow of their brows. The quiet man with dark hair finished dressing and turned to Thalan. ¡°Will we need the beasts?¡± he asked, his voice low. Thalan shook his head. ¡°No, we¡¯ll likely just be visiting the nearby shrine,¡± he replied. Meanwhile, the red-haired boy, now feeling a great deal of irritation, found himself no longer in the mood for his bath. With a flick of his finger, he incinerated the remaining water, leaving the tub spotless. The guard, watching with wide eyes, could hardly believe what he had just seen. ¡®What did he just do?¡¯ he wondered, trying to wrap his mind around the mysterious powers these people wielded. Chapter 14~ Shades of Green The world was shrouded in a thick, impenetrable fog, a cold, dense veil that swallowed the horizon and cloaked the earth. In the midst of this oppressive gloom, countless figures drifted aimlessly, their forms barely discernible through the swirling mists. Among them was a young man, no older than 15, his slight frame lost in the throng. He moved with the others, though each step felt heavy with uncertainty. He didn¡¯t know where they were going or why they were there, but one fear dominated his thoughts: he couldn¡¯t see her. Where am I? he wondered, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest. Where is she? The fog seemed to stretch endlessly in every direction, and with each passing moment, his fear grew. He had heard his mother speak in hushed tones about those who wandered into the mist and never returned, but he refused to believe that would be his fate. He had to find her, had to make sure she was safe. Yet, as he scanned the indistinct shapes around him, all he saw were the vague outlines of strangers, their faces obscured, their movements slow and uncertain. The fog pressed in on him from all sides, its icy tendrils creeping into his bones, making him shiver uncontrollably. Desperation gnawed at his insides. He wanted to cry out, to scream her name until his throat was raw, but a deep, primal instinct held him back¡ªa silent terror that warned him that to make a sound in this place would be to invite something far worse than loneliness. Time became meaningless as he continued to drift with the others, his mind spinning with questions he couldn¡¯t answer. Where did they send us? What awaited us at the end of this journey? Am I even still alive or is this the after life? His mind continued to wonder, he was worried and the thought of being alone in this vast, uncaring world, without her by his side, was enough to bring his world crashing down. He clenched his fists, his small fingers digging into his palms, fighting back the urge to cry. He had to be strong. He had to find her. ¡­ It took time for all five to be ready, but once they were, they followed the guard through the dense forest towards the shrine. The morning air was sharp and invigorating, the scent of pine and earth filling their lungs. A sense of anticipation hung heavily in the atmosphere, as if the forest itself was holding its breath, waiting for something momentous to happen. They climbed the wooden stairs leading up to the shrine, each step creaking under their weight. As they ascended, they couldn¡¯t help but admire the serene beauty of their surroundings¡ªthe towering trees swaying gently in the breeze, their leaves whispering secrets to the wind, while distant birds filled the air with their melodious songs. The shrine, nestled in a quiet clearing, exuded an air of ancient mystery. It was nearly empty, save for a few attendants who moved with practiced grace, tending to its upkeep. As the knights walked through the meticulously maintained garden, they took in the vibrant flowers that added a splash of color to the otherwise muted landscape, their petals glistening with morning dew. They were led through a gate and along a winding path that brought them to an open hall where a man sat in deep meditation. A soft hum emanated from him, a sound that seemed to resonate with the very air around him. The light glowing around him cast an ethereal aura, a halo that startled the guests with its otherworldly beauty. The women exchanged skeptical glances, recalling their companion''s assertion from the previous night that these villagers couldn¡¯t wield the arts. The elder¡¯s eyes snapped open, and with a silent gesture, he invited them to approach and sit before him. The guard quickly brought out five cushions, placing them on the floor with reverence. The knights complied, settling themselves on the cushions, their curiosity piqued by the elder¡¯s presence. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡°You¡¯ve come earlier than expected,¡± the elder remarked, his voice calm and authoritative, carrying a weight that belied his unassuming appearance. The middle-aged man nodded. ¡°I didn¡¯t expect a villager to be familiar with our arts,¡± he said, his voice tinged with curiosity. Continuing, he answered the elder¡¯s unspoken question, ¡°This year is different. We are here for the challenger.¡± He did not elaborate further, leaving the statement hanging in the air like a thick cloud. The elder¡¯s eyes opened wide, ¡°so it has ended!¡± he said while visibly shaken. He then turned to the guard stationed nearby and nodded. The guard promptly exited, returning moments later with an array of dishes, each one more colorful and exotic than the last, the aromas wafting through the air, a blend of spices and herbs foreign to the guests. They didn¡¯t stand on ceremony, and since they hadn¡¯t eaten, the five guests dug in, though they maintained stoic expressions, their faces occasionally betraying their distaste for the unfamiliar food. As they dined, the elder watched them silently, sipping his tea slowly. His gaze was steady, taking in their reactions with an unreadable expression. He observed their leader, who ate quietly with a grace that masked his true feelings, never revealing any hint of discomfort or pleasure. Finally, the elder nodded, and his lips curled into a faint smile as he spoke. ¡°We know who you are here for. They will be ready later today. Your time must be valuable.¡± The unexpected statement made them all look up, but they remained silent, choosing to let their leader respond. Understanding the underlying message, the middle-aged man¡¯s expression changed for the first time, though he quickly concealed it and maintained his composure. Nodding, he said, ¡°We are indeed in a hurry and would appreciate it if that is true.¡± Aren nodded, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. Rising to his feet, his stern face softened into a smile. He whispered a few words, and an overwhelming light began to surround him, the intensity of it almost suffocating. Alarmed, the five guests stood up, but the elder waved them back down, indicating they should remain seated. The energy subsided, and from within the light, a sealed paper with a unique emblem emerged, floating down into the elder¡¯s outstretched hand. He handed it to the middle-aged man, who took it with a mixture of shock and disbelief. As he carefully examined the emblem, a ripple of astonishment spread through him, shaking the composure he had maintained up until that moment. ¡°Take it!¡± Aren said, his voice commanding yet calm, ¡°and hand it to him!¡± ¡­ Beneath a sky perpetually brushed with twilight hues, a single leaf spiraled down from a tree in a garden unlike any other. Each petal, each leaf, and each blade of grass was a stroke of color, as if the garden itself were a living painting. As the leaf drifted lazily toward the ground, its edges shimmering with every shade of gold and crimson, something peculiar happened. A man emerged from the leaf as though stepping out of a doorway, his form gradually materializing until he stood on the leaf itself, balanced with impossible grace. His clothes were an ever-changing tapestry of colors, blending seamlessly with the garden''s ethereal beauty. With a flourish, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out an umbrella¡ªa grand, ornate thing with a canopy of velvet and a handle inlaid with gemstones. It was far too large to have been stored in any pocket, yet he held it aloft with ease, allowing it to catch the wind. As the umbrella filled with air, the man floated upwards, performing a graceful flop in the sky before descending slowly towards the woman who awaited him below. She stood amid the vibrantly painted foliage, her form elegant and composed, a serene smile playing on her lips. Just before he touched the ground, the man let go of the umbrella, allowing it to drift away. It fell slowly, almost as if reluctant to part with him, and when it touched the earth, it disintegrated into a swirling pile of leaves, scattering across the ground. ¡°You hardly ever leave your Realm," the woman remarked, her voice as soft and melodic as the rustling of leaves in a gentle breeze. ¡°And you, always in your garden, tending to your colors," the man replied, his tone light, as though they were discussing the weather. ¡°Perhaps I find solace in the certainty of my realm," she mused, her eyes following the path of a leaf as it changed from green to deep purple in mid-air, responding to the shift in her thoughts. "Solace or control?" The man chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. With a snap of his fingers, a nearby tree shuddered and began to shed its leaves in a flurry of activity. The leaves swirled around them before settling into the shape of a grand chair behind him. He sat down, crossing one leg over the other, clearly pleased with his handiwork. ¡°Control is an illusion," she countered, flicking her wrist. A small teapot sitting on a nearby stone plinth suddenly sprang to life, sprouting tiny legs and arms. It toddled over to her, pouring itself into a cup that had similarly come to life, all while humming a gentle tune. Chapter 15~ Colorful Illusions "Illusions are all we have," the man replied, watching as the tree beside him began to change its colors, the leaves cycling through the seasons in mere moments, reflecting his shifting mood. He flicked his finger lazily, and the mug at his side stretched and yawned before pouring itself a cup of tea. ¡°And what of these visitors?" she asked, a note of curiosity in her voice. "They seem to come more frequently these days." "Ah, the visitors," he sighed, leaning back in his leafy chair. "They think they¡¯re seeking something grand¡ªsome secret to bend reality as we do. Yet they¡¯re but infants, stumbling in the dark." "And what shall we do with them?" she inquired, her expression unreadable. A rose beside her bloomed and withered within seconds, as though reflecting the fleeting nature of her thoughts. "Play with them, perhaps," he suggested, a grin spreading across his face. "Toy with their expectations, lead them down paths that twist and turn." "Or we could guide them," she offered, though her tone carried a hint of amusement, suggesting she was not entirely serious. "Show them the futility of their desires." "How dull," he remarked, though his eyes sparkled with mischief. "No, I¡¯d rather see how they react when their dreams are within reach, only to be snatched away at the last moment." "You are cruel," she teased, though she did not seem disapproving. Her hand waved through the air, and the colors of the garden shifted once more, taking on cooler, calmer hues. The leaves around them turned a soft blue, and the light of the perpetual twilight grew softer, more introspective. "Only as cruel as reality itself," he said, his voice almost a whisper as if sharing a secret with the wind. "But tell me, do you not wonder what it would be like to step beyond your garden, beyond your realm, and see the worlds these visitors come from?" She considered this for a moment, her eyes distant. "Perhaps... but why leave when everything I need is here? The world beyond is chaos, uncontrollable." "Chaos can be beautiful," he said, his voice a touch more serious. "It is in chaos that we find the rawest, most unfiltered truths." "Truths or delusions?" she asked, though now there was a hint of genuine curiosity in her voice. The tea in her cup rippled, changing colors from a deep, serene green to a vibrant red. "Does it matter?" he asked, leaning forward. "In the end, all that matters is the experience, the journey, and the moments we create along the way." She smiled at that, a slow, thoughtful smile. "Perhaps you''re right," she admitted. "Perhaps it is time to see what lies beyond the garden walls." "Then let us welcome these visitors properly," he suggested, standing up from his chair of leaves, which instantly disintegrated and swirled back into the air. "Let us show them the beauty of the unexpected." "And the danger of desires unfulfilled," she added, her voice laced with a hint of warning. Together, they flicked their fingers, and the garden around them began to shift, transforming into a landscape both beautiful and terrifying, a place where anything could happen, and nothing was as it seemed. As the first of the new visitors arrived, stepping tentatively into this strange, ever-changing world, the man and the woman watched with anticipation, ready to weave a tapestry of dreams and nightmares, of illusions and truths. And so, the game began, with some of its contestants unaware of their participation. ¡­ Waking up was a hassle, not much that I could recall. I was blind the moment I opened my eyes, the unrelenting glare of the sun beating down on me. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. The chirping of birds echoed faintly, noon was approaching. Inspecting my surrounding, I could help but not the fact that a lot seems to had happened. Blinking against the light, I inspected my luxurious chamber I was in, becoming more thrilled the more I realized where I was. Obviously I¡¯m not serious, I¡¯m for fuck sake in a deep pit, its stone walls towering way above me, with nothing but dirt beneath my feet. Realization dawned on me, this was what the villagers called ¡°The hole,¡± a holding place for offenders awaiting judgment¡­ it seems like I¡¯ve been captured¡­ oh well¡­ this is a ittle tragic. To think I was feets away from escaping my doom¡­ who knows, maybe this is for the better! Shaking my head to get rid of the gloomy thoughts, I stared up at the bright sky, the sound of approaching footsteps reverting throughout thee pit. Shadows fell over the edge, and I saw the faces of the elders peering down at me. Their eyes with a hint of pity and disdain, the same eyes that most of the villagers star at me with. Their faces were masked of stern disapproval, even Lyra did not spare me much of her time, she left quickly too, although she did look at me with guilt and shame. ¡°Bring him,¡± Lyra ordered, throwing the command before leaving. All the elders by then had turned and walked away, giving me only brief, disdainful glances. My heart started beating wildly, I felt betrayed, my hope of survival sinking further Two guards quickly threw down a wooden ladder. Every fiber of me screamed to resist, do not climb it, my heart commanded, but I knew better. The consequences of disobedience would be far worse. Climbing slowly, I felt the weight of my dread increase with every inch as I got closer to the surface. At the top, the guards without hesitation binned me done¡­ that was a new experience!! I¡¯ve never felt more humiliated. They roughly chained my hands and feet and led me away, as if I was going to run. Dragging the chains, I was paraded through the village, it was as if the elders were making a statement. My thoughts grew darker, killing intent growing in me the more I walked. I could feel the eyes of the villagers on me. They whispered and pointed, their accusations cutting deeper than any blade. I was too ashamed to meet their eyes, I kept my gaze fixed on the ground. It felt like a century had passed, but it was merely a few minutes. The terrain eventually changed to paved stones as we neared the center of the village. The great hall loomed ahead, guarded by imposing armored figures. ¡­ Zarek didn¡¯t dare look them in the eyes, instead, he chose to keep his head bowed and continued walking, dragging his chains along. The guards brought him to the massive doors of the great hall, the furthest point they were allowed to reach. One of them knocked, and a loud, authoritative voice echoed from within, ¡°He can enter!¡± Bowing and stepping back, they waited for Zarek to enter, when he took too long, they pushed him through the door, knocking him down to the floor. Kneeling, the heavy doors closed behind him with a deafening thud, sealing the only exit and reminding him of the fate that awaits. With great difficulty, he got up, steeled his heart and stepped forward. Every step he took echoed through the grand hall, the sound amplifying his anxiety. He looked up and saw seven thrones arranged in a semicircle, with a large fire burning in the center. This was the infamous fire everyone in the village knew about, believed to be the gate to hell caused by one of the stars that fell in ancient times. It had been burning for thousands of years, a symbol of their divine protection. The heat from the fire radiated out, warming the stone floor and casting flickering shadows on the walls. As he marveled at the sight, Aren¡¯s voice broke through his thoughts, commanding, ¡°Come closer, boy!¡± Zarek did as he was told, moving to stand in front of the fire, the elders¡¯ thrones surrounding him. All the seats were occupied except one. His thoughts raced, images of his father racing through his head. A sharp sound of a cane hitting the solid floor brought him back to the present. The eldest elder, Rina, spoke, her tone neutral, ¡°Tell us, boy, what made you kill your father?¡± The words hit him like a physical blow. ¡°I didn¡¯t kill him!¡± he shouted, his voice trembling with all kinds of emotion, from anger to sadness, to feeling betrayed. Varek got up and stepped forward while pointing his finger. ¡°You were the last to see him alive, and you ran away immediately after, if you didn¡¯t kill him, why and whom were you running from?¡± Zarek looked around desperately, considering what to say. ¡°I ran because¡­ because I was scared!!¡± he said, his voice weak, understanding fully well that his argument wasn¡¯t strong enough. Alaric, clad in full armor, leaned forward. ¡°who helped you escape, boy?¡± Zarek hesitated. ¡°No one!!¡± he replied, his eyes looking down, ¡°No one helped me do anything.¡± ¡°You dare lie boy!! ¡­ This boy tells a lot of lies, he knows far more than he is letting us. We must dig deeper,¡± Varek loudly insisted. Lyra, covered her face and shook her head. ¡°We need more than just your word, Zarek!! We need proof.¡± Zarek stood silent, his lips pressed tight. The elders¡¯ questions and accusations flew at him, but he stubbornly repeated, ¡°It wasn¡¯t me.¡± Jorim looked at him with narrowed eyes. ¡°You must speak the truth, boy. Its for your own good!¡± Chapter 16~ Tale of Dawn Under the soft light of dawn, as the first rays of sunlight filtered through the tall pines, a group of children gathered around an ancient oak tree. The cool air carried the scent of pine needles and damp earth. The children sat on the soft moss, their eyes wide with curiosity and anticipation. The old story teller, a man with a face etched with years of wisdom, settled on a nearby rock. His weathered hands, one resting on a wooden staff and the other scratching his white beard as he playfully stroked it. He began his tale in a deep, gravelly voice. ¡°Back when tigers smoked,¡± he started, his eyes twinkling, ¡°the world was different. It was a time of great battles when humans and devils fought for control over the earth.¡± The children leaned closer, absorbed by the story. ¡°For thousands of years, the fighting never stopped,¡± the grandfather continued. ¡°The devils were relentless, but the humans were brave. The ground was stained with blood, and the cries of the fallen echoed to the heavens.¡± He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. ¡°Eventually, both sides grew tired. The King of the Devils proposed a meeting with the King of Humans. They met at the edge of the world, where the sky meets the ocean.¡± The children were silent, imagining that distant place. ¡°The King of Devils offered a deal,¡± the grandfather whispered. ¡°He and his kin would take the inner world and lock themselves away in the deepest part of the earth, but the King of Humans must migrate all the human tribes and lock the entrance to the inner world using a forbidden ritual that requires the blood of every human tribe. If even one person was missed, the seal will be broken, and the Devils would be released.¡± The children shivered as the tale grew darker. ¡°Every fifty years,¡± the grandfather said, ¡°the King of Humans forces walks the earth, searching for disobedient children to offer as tribute, keeping the pact unbroken. He would gather the children of every tribe and send them into the middle world, a world of mystery where they are offered a slim chance of survival by the king of the devils. ¡± Pausing, the old man''s eyes became sharp as he looked around the crowed of children, "the king of the devil would test their inner beings, their values and purity... those deemed unworthy would be sacraficed and those deemed worthy would be spared. To this day, no one was deemed worthy!" The story ended in silence, the ancient tale lingering in the cool morning air. ¡­ Zarek¡¯s resolve wavered under the pressure, his concentration drifting away as the elders began to argue among themselves, some calling for his sacrifice, others demanding more proof. Varek, his voice cutting through the elders, spoke coldly. ¡°Confess, and perhaps mercy will be shown!¡± he pointed with his wrinkled hand toward Zarek. Tired of all the questions flooding him, and knowing he is destined to be the scapegoat, Zarek¡¯s emotions boiled over. He felt like screaming for his innocents, yet his throat grew dry, sweat slowly dripping from his forehead. Resolving his feelings and putting them aside, he once again recalled the words of Yara, and prepared to recite a rhyme. Words in the village were more valuable than gold, a promise said must be upheld; that was the custom, and to formally forward one¡¯s complaint, one must narrate their case. With shame and desperation, his voice echoed in the hall, and the elders grew quiet. ¡°To those ancient, and those that are old, I come forward, my words are bold. A person promise, is a mountain of gold, I won¡¯t bend and I won¡¯t fold. Today I bring forth my shameful claim, I know it doesn¡¯t make sense, but I¡¯m not to blame. We all know that my fate¡¯s been sealed, The truth is hard, but it¡¯s been revealed. Another bloodline gone, this is all a sham, Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. I¡¯m framed, I swear, it¡¯s all a scam.¡± He paused taking a deep break and looking at each elder in the face before continuing, ¡°From you elders, both wise and revered, One stands oldest, her wisdom is feared. There¡¯s Elder Rina, ancient and wise, With knowledge deep, she¡¯s seen through lies. But even she, with all her might, Can¡¯t see the truth hidden in plain sight. Elder Jorim, strong and bold, With hammer in hand, his heart grows cold. A creator of wonders, a builder of fame, Yet now he questions, castimg shadows of blame. Elder Alaric, the village¡¯s wall, Without his strength, the village would fall. In leather and iron, his stance is straight, He defends our home with steadfast weight. Elder Lyra, the archer¡¯s pride, With sharp eyes and skill, she won¡¯t let it slide. Her bowstring taut, her aim is true, Yet doubt and suspicion cloud her view. Aren, the seer with one missing eye, Sees beyond the veil, where truths and lies lie. He stands silent, judgment in his gaze, A sentinel in these dark, troubled days. But then there¡¯s you, blind to the light, A serpent¡¯s tongue, your heart full of spite. You twist the truth, you spin your lies, With hate burning deep in your sightless eyes. You want my blood, you seek my end, But know this, I will not bend. The stars above, they know the truth, Of innocence lost, of betrayed youth.¡± Not a word was spoken for a while, the hall was silent, the only sound was the crackling of the eternal fire. The elders exchanged glances, their thoughts hidden behind their stern expressions. Their faces showed a mix of shock, suspicion, and pity. Aren¡¯s expression was unreadable, his sharp eyes boring deep into Zarek. Rina¡¯s eyes softened momentarily, but she said nothing. Jorim¡¯s jaw tightened, his knuckles white around his hammer. Alaric¡¯s face was a mask of conflict, his grip on his spear tightening. Varek eyes seethe with anger as he stepped forward, his blind eyes seeming to see through Zarek. ¡°Your insolence knows no boundaries!¡± Interrupting him from saying anything further, Aren stepped forward, his voice steady and his eyes glowling : ¡°You speak the truth, but tell some lies, Your voice steady with its cries. A child of despair, sadly your cries are in vain, For your fate, it seems, has been preordained. I am no prophet, just a wise man, Yet I see the threads of this sinister plan. Evidence we hold, a dagger of blame, Two testified, someone spoke your name. The gods above, they watch and wait, To return you to their embrace, sealed by fate.¡± Aren¡¯s eyes dimed and he turned to the other elders, his tone icy and direct. ¡°No need to sugarcoat this¡­he is an educated child and knows what is bound to happen to him. Let us vote on two matters: his innocence and whether he will be sacrificed. Remember, the stars are above watching, so be fair. Let¡¯s start with his innocence. Who here deems him guilty?¡± Only two hands were raised. One was wrinkled and old, belonging to Varek and another was covered in leather, the hand of Alaric. Terror gripped Zarek¡¯s heart as he watched their hands rise, alarm bells ringing in his head. ¡°Now for his innocence!¡± Aren commanded. No hands were raised, amplifying Zarek¡¯s fear. His eyes widened with terror as he looked at the elders deciding his fate right before him. Aren¡¯s gaze swept over Zarek, his expression unreadable, yet chilling. He addressed the hall, his voice dripping with an eerie calm, ¡°And now, the final question: to be, or not to be? Who among us casts their vote for the boy¡¯s sacrifice?¡± Shock and disbelief filled Zarek¡¯s heart as he watched the elders raise their hands one by one. Elder Rina, her face a mask of sorrow, was the first to lift her hand. Elder Jorim, his expression resolute and unyielding, followed suit. Elder Alaric hesitated, his internal struggle evident, but eventually, he too raised his hand. Lastly, Elder Lyra, her eyes brimming with conflict and hesitation, raised her hand only after Varek¡¯s cold reminder. Silence enveloped the hall as Alaric rose from his seat, his presence commanding attention. Aren, his one remaining eye gleaming with cold detachment, sat down, taking his place with a slow, deliberate motion. ¡°Zarek Tharion,¡± Alaric¡¯s voice resonated through the chamber, each word dripping with finality, ¡°under the authority of the Elders¡¯ Council, you have been found guilty of the heinous crime of kin-slaying. For this unforgivable sin, the penalty is death¡­death by being sacrificed!¡± ¡°Guards, seize him,¡± Varek commanded, his voice icy and unyielding. Four guard rushed in, grabbing the boy¡¯s hands and feet. ¡°Two of you will escort him back to his pit and prepare him, while the others will spread the word to everyone. This afternoon marks the day of the holy sacrifice¡­the Giving Back Day!¡± Despair engulfed Zarek as he was dragged away. ¡®Was this it?¡¯ He screamed in his head, insanity creeping up to engulf him. His pleas fell on deaf ears, and he was left alone with his misery. The cold, unyielding stones of his prison awaited him, and the knowledge that his life was to be cut short filled him with an overwhelming sense of loss and betrayal. The stars above seemed indifferent, their distant light offering no solace. ¡®My fate was sealed by those who were meant to protect me!¡¯ he thought, gathering what little strength he had left. He decided to make a stances and speak his probably last words to the elders while being dragged away, his hands trembled, yet his voice steady. He began to recite a curse that came from the depths of his anguished soul: ¡°Cold are the hearts that judge me now, Elders of ice with unbroken vow. Corruption runs deep in the roots you tend, Your treachery will never mend. In shadows and whispers, you conspire, Fanning the flames of a funeral pyre. Mark my words, I curse you all, From beyond the grave, I¡¯ll watch you fall. Even in death, my spirit won¡¯t rest, I¡¯ll haunt your dreams, be your eternal pest. For stars above and earth below, Will bear witness to the seeds you sow. And in the night, when silence creeps, My voice will whisper as each of you sleeps.¡± The hall fell into a deathly silence, my words hanging heavy in the air. The elders¡¯ faces twisted with a mix of anger, guilt, and fear. I looked each one in the eye as I was being taken away, my resolve unbroken even after they sealed my fate. Chapter 17- Unhealed Wounds. Footsteps rushing as a young boy wandered through the dense forest, his voice hoarse from calling out. ¡°Father? Father, where are you?¡± His small, trembling body searched in vain for the familiar figure of his father. The boy¡¯s cries echoed through the trees, growing weaker with each passing moment. Finally, he fell to his knees, the weight of despair pressing him into the dirt. ¡°You lied,¡± he sobbed, his small hands clenched into fists. ¡°Father, you told me you would be back!¡± His tears fell freely now, each drop mingling with the earth beneath him. Memories surged like a flood, pulling him back to a time of innocent hope. A time before his father ever told a lie. ¡­Same day, but prior¡­ The boy clung to his father¡¯s arm, his small fingers wrapped tightly around the rough fabric of his father¡¯s coat. His father, a tall and strong figure, knelt down and ruffled his hair gently. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll be back, safe and sound.¡± He assured him, his voice filled with a confidence that should have been comforting. But the boy could see the tears streaming down his mother¡¯s face, each drop falling like rain. She stood silently behind them, her sorrow unspoken but visible. The two guards waiting on the entrance finally approached, their expressions solemn. ¡°It¡¯s time,¡± one of them said. The father nodded at his wife, a silent farewell passing between them. He gently released his son¡¯s grip and stepped forward, flanked by the guards. The boy¡¯s heart ached as he watched his father walk away, his form growing smaller with each step. ¡­ Today was the day the ceremony took place, a grand spectacle it was meant to be, a tradition ingrained in the fabric of their society by their people. Yet it had a darker truth, a truth everyone was a participant in, a truth that made the old crumble and was imprinted in the young who could only watch. No one was allowed to miss it. No one was allowed to cry or mourn. It was supposed to be a day of joy, a day to celebrate the stars¡¯ favor. The boy stood beside his mother, her hand gripping his tightly. He fought to hold back his tears, his nose running as he tried to stay composed. Before them, his father was laid on a luxurious bed carried by four men, his arms were lowered, shackles barely visible as they were tied to the ornate frame. He wore the finest clothes, a mockery of the situation, and was forced to smile at the crowd with happy eyes. The boy watched as his father¡¯s eyes found his. The man¡¯s smile wavered, and tears began to fall, betraying his stoic fa?ade. ¡­ Orin woke with a startle, his body drenched in sweat. He cursed under his breath, his hands trembling as he wiped his face. This nightmare from his childhood, plagued him relentlessly. It was a memory he could never escape, a shadow that clung to him despite the passing years. ¡°Damn it,¡± he muttered, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He stood up, feeling the weight of his past pressing down on him. ¡°Damn this curse,¡± he snapped, his voice a growl in the silence of his room. He knew he had to push through it, to keep going despite the relentless torment of his memories. The past was a chain, but it would not define his future. Pushing himself out of bed with a grim determination. He grabbed his axe, the familiar weight a comfort in his hands. As he prepared for the day, a rare smile touched his lips, recalling last night when he helped Zarek escape the fate that had claimed his own father. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. His thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the sound of hurried footsteps. His apprentice, face pale and eyes wide with panic, rushed into the room. ¡°Master! The elders have captured Zarek! He was trying to escape!¡± Orin¡¯s heart plummeted, the shock and terror gripping him like a vice. ¡°What?¡± he breathed, finding it hard to believe the words he just heard. The news was already spread in the village the day prior, but he kept his mind occupied and blocked everything unrelated to the uninvited guests that arrived. The boy continued, his voice shaking, ¡°They say his departing ceremony will be held later today!¡± Orin¡¯s blood ran cold as the reality of the situation settled in. Without a moment¡¯s hesitation, he changed direction and sprinted toward the hole Zarek was in, the very same place where his father had been held all those years ago. As he approached, the sight of countless guards swarming the area confirmed his worst fears. Orin pushed his way forward, desperation lending strength to his movements. ¡°Let me through! I just want to speak with him!¡± he shouted. The guards, unmoved by his pleas, blocked his path. But their leader, recognizing Orin, shook his head at them. ¡°Let him through,¡± he ordered, his voice carrying a note of reluctant respect. Orin rushed past the guards, his heart pounding in his chest. There, in the depths of the place, he saw Zarek. Chains bound the young man¡¯s hands and feet, and he lay on the cold, hard ground, his spirit crushed. ¡°Zarek,¡± Orin called softly, his voice a mix of sorrow and determination. Zarek slowly lifted his head from his knees, his eyes meeting Orin¡¯s with a weary gaze. They stared at each other for a long moment, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them. Zarek managed a faint smile. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Uncle Orin. I¡¯ll be fine.¡± Orin¡¯s world seemed to crumble at those words. His body trembled as the image of his father overlapped with Zarek¡¯s. He slowly nodded, and yet unable to find his voice, he could only turn away. As he walked back through the village, tears streamed down his face unconsciously, each step heavier than the last. He left the village, sorrow overwhelming him. ¡­ Zarek sat there, surrounded by guards who loomed at the edges, their eyes never leaving him. Despite the gravity of his situation, his dark humor was the only thing keeping him afloat. He inwardly mocked the guards. ¡®It¡¯s not like I was going to escape,¡¯ he thought. ¡®Not that I could.¡¯ ¡®Everything great must come to an end,¡¯ he mused bitterly. ¡®I¡¯m sure my many friends will miss me terribly.¡¯ He chuckled softly to himself, the sound hollow in the cold air. His thoughts turned to the people who had helped him, a pang of regret stabbing at his heart. He remembered their faces, their kindness, and he cursed himself for implicating them in his doomed escape. ¡®I never wanted to involve any of you.¡¯ Hunger gnawed at his stomach, a constant reminder of his plight. He cursed the guards who had confiscated everything he had, leaving him with nothing but his thoughts. ¡®Of all the things to take, did they really need my food?¡¯ he thought, shaking his head. Time was ticking, it waited for no one. The sun rose higher and higher, spreading warmth and light, yet, as time passed, Zarek felt miserable and his desperation and depression seemed to intensify the isolation he felt. His mind wandered to memories, regrets, and the slim hope that flickered in his chest. As noon¡¯s heat began to creep in, he heard the distant sound of drums, a low, rhythmic thrum that grew steadily louder. He muttered to himself, ¡°So, it has begun.¡± Four guards and two women approached his pit. One of the guards threw down a ladder and barked, ¡°Climb.¡± Zarek understood it was too late to do anything now, and he did as he was told. Once he reached the top, the guards and the women set to work. The guards removed his shackles, which had left deep bruises on his wrists and ankles. Zarek joked internally, ¡®I feel uncomfortable without the shackles. They¡¯ve become a part of me.¡¯ It was then the women¡¯s turn. Without asking for permission, they began to strip him of his clothes. Zarek inwardly blushed, thinking, ¡®We haven¡¯t even had our first date yet.¡¯ They stripped him naked and proceeded to wash him. The temperature was cold, and the water was even colder, biting into his skin. Yet, they disregarded his discomfort and scrubbed him thoroughly. The process was meticulous. The women used rough cloths and cold water, their hands moving briskly over his skin. Zarek clenched his teeth against the chill, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity as they worked. They then dressed him in luxurious clothes, more extravagant than anything he had ever seen, even on the elders. He wore a heavy tunic that was golden with red stripes, paired with pants of an identical design. The women then smeared pigment on his face, creating black, yellow, and red lines that felt ceremonial but suffocating as well. The guards pushed him to sit on a palanquin, a bed-like structure with corners to which they reattached his chains. The weight of the shackles returned, and Zarek joked inwardly, ¡®This is the best I¡¯ve been treated. They¡¯re spoiling me like a king.¡¯ They lifted the palanquin, and Zarek was carried through the village. Crowds had gathered, the sound of drums filling the air. There was festivity everywhere, a stark contrast to the dread that filled him. Zarek joked to himself, ¡®Look at how popular I am. Everyone¡¯s out to see me. I¡¯ll be greatly missed.¡¯