Arın (Uniformed Man) – POV
The uniformed man was gathering supplies for the journey, having lingered in this town longer than expected. He had been ordered to return home, and he always obeyed orders.
He had spent the entire day wandering through the market, yet he had not found what he was looking for—he didn't even know what it was. He kept walking.
As always, people were afraid of him and avoided his gaze, while some of the braver ones occasionally tried to block his path, eager to fight. The uniformed man paid them no attention—unless they continued to stand in his way.
In that case, he would draw his sword and clear his path.
By the time he approached the bridge, evening was settling in, and something was pulling him there—something unseen.
So he stopped.
He looked around, trying to understand what it was, and that was when he noticed something on the ground. He bent down.
It was a small yellow button—one from his sleeve. He would have to sew it back on; his uniform had to remain clean and proper at all times. That was an order, and orders were to be obeyed.
He picked up the button and placed it in his pocket. When he turned around, he saw her—the woman who had given him a name. İlyara.
He did not understand why he kept being drawn toward her. There was something about her he could not identify.
But there was one thing he was certain of.
Danger.
He saw İlyara turn her head and followed her gaze, noticing a drunk sitting on the bridge. The uniformed man began walking toward her, though he did not know why.
He stopped suddenly. Something was happening—the air around him was changing.
He looked at İlyara as she spoke to the drunk, but the man would not even look at her.
The uniformed man continued to watch from where he stood.
"Excuse me!"
İlyara had shouted, drawing the attention of those on the bridge. Then he saw her lower her head and apologize.
A being as powerful as her… apologizing. It was strange. He knew nothing that could stop her.
The uniformed man could not understand her.
He saw her expression harden. This was new, and he did not like it.
İlyara said "excuse me" again, this time in a harsher tone, and now she grabbed the drunk's arm.
The uniformed man sensed a change in his body. The hairs on his arms stood on end. He had not known his body could react this way—around her, it reacted strangely.
Better to stay away, he thought.
She interferes with me.
He was about to turn and leave when he felt a surge of power and looked toward İlyara.
She had lifted her head toward the sky, a faint glow in her eyes, her hands still gripping the drunk's arm. His body was trembling, and people on the bridge began looking at İlyara again—but no one stepped closer.
Then, suddenly, the trembling stopped. İlyara released his arm and remained still for a moment, her eyes still glowing.
A wide smile spread across her face. No one moved.
The uniformed man tilted his head slightly. This expression was new.
The man looked down at the ground where he stood for a moment, then slowly climbed onto the railing and stood there, perfectly upright, his back turned.
He took a step forward.
"Stop—"
İlyara's command was swallowed by the sound of the water. She gave more orders, one after another, but the drunk did not turn back—she could not bring him back.
There was no trace left of the wide smile on her face; tears were running down her cheeks instead.
Then he saw her collapse to her knees. Black smoke poured from the hand that had held the man, growing thicker as it spread and surrounded her.
"Ahhh!"
With İlyara's scream, the black smoke burst outward, spreading across the bridge and covering everyone. Those touched by it either began to cry or to scream, their voices mixing with hers.
When the uniformed man noticed the black substance moving toward him, he placed his hand on the hilt of his sword—but he could not draw it. He was frozen.
Then he realized he was being watched. He turned his head and met İlyara's glowing eyes.
Danger.
Move away.
He took a step back to distance himself, but immediately returned it to where it had been. His body was not obeying him.
İlyara covered her face with trembling hands and lowered her head. The pressure around him eased, and the uniformed man found he could move again.
He saw İlyara run away while people were still screaming and crying.
Then he felt something wet on his cheeks. He raised a hand to touch them, and when he pulled it away, it was wet.
The uniformed man frowned.
He drew his sword and sliced the air. The people on the bridge fell silent.
Chaos ruled the bridge as people tried to understand what had just happened.
One of them spoke in a trembling voice. "P-prophecy…"
"Prophecy… the Ancient's shadow…"
The eyes of the people on the bridge widened.
"When the child of the earth is born, the Ancient's shadow descends upon the world."
The words were almost a whisper, yet everyone heard them.
Everyone held their breath.
The uniformed man looked in the direction İlyara had gone. He turned away and took a step—then stopped again. His body refused to move.
He turned his head back toward the path she had taken, and the tension in his body eased enough for him to step forward. This time, he could move.
He stood where he was. His order was to return home, but his body would not obey.
He looked once more toward the road İlyara had taken.
And walked.
After İlyara.
---
The uniformed man walked through the town for a while, following what people were saying about İlyara.
He heard a sound and turned toward it. It was İlyara.
She had fallen, but quickly brushed the dust from her clothes and moved toward a horse. The uniformed man watched her mount it.
He quickened his steps when he saw a man running toward her, and this time, he began to run as well.
İlyara was already riding away at full speed. Another horse was tied nearby, and the uniformed man headed straight for it.
"Hey! Are you stealing my horse too?" a man shouted—it was the same one who had been chasing İlyara.
The uniformed man untied the horse, and just as he was about to mount it, the man grabbed his arm. He jerked his hand free and drew his sword, the force sending the man crashing to the ground.
When their eyes met, the man's widened in terror. He clasped his hands together in front of him.
"I'm sorry! Forgive me," he begged. "You can have the horse. Please don't kill me."
The uniformed man raised his sword, but did not strike. The sound of metal caught his attention, and he turned his head.
He saw the Taşkans chasing after İlyara. Leaving the man on the ground, he mounted the horse and rode after them.
The Taşkans turned when they noticed someone approaching from behind—but it was too late. They were already on the ground.
The uniformed man held his blood-stained sword in the air. It was a warning. Anyone who stood in his way would die.
He saw İlyara pass through the barrier. He sheathed his sword and urged the horse forward.
And he crossed the barrier.