Vael stepped closer to the wall where the doorway had vanished. He placed his palm flat against the cold stone, eyes half-closed in concentration.
A faint ripple of power moved through him.
He invoked the earth skill not with force, but with quiet focus. The stone beneath his hand trembled slightly, as though answering an old, familiar summons. For a moment, faint violet lines traced the outline of the hidden doorway, then faded away like dying embers.
Aamon watched in silence, then spoke in a low, respectful tone.
"Should we break in, my king?"
Vael withdrew his hand from the wall. His expression remained calm, almost distant.
"No need," he said quietly. "This does not lead anywhere. It is a portal."
The words had scarcely left his lips when a faint symbol began to glow upon the stone a delicate, intricate rune pulsing with soft violet light, as though the portal itself stirred in response to their presence.
Both Vael and Aamon reacted at once. Vael pressed his palm to the stone again. The earth skill surged through him, and the glowing rune dimmed rapidly, sinking back into the wall until it vanished completely. Aamon moved to his side, cloak shifting as he positioned himself to shield any lingering trace from view.
They had only just concealed the mark when soft footsteps approached from the darkness.
Miraleth emerged from the shadows, moving with eerie grace despite her blindness. Several figures in dark cloaks followed closely behind her, stepping out from the very portal where Haldir had vanished moments earlier. One of the cloaked figures stepped forward and slowly lowered their hood.
It was Morbelith the Whisperkin.
Aamon noticed her at once his posture stiffened ever so slightly, though his expression remained unreadable.
Morbelith's form shimmered like liquid shadow. In the span of a breath, her features melted and reformed. The silver-eyed woman vanished, replaced by the familiar face and build of Haldir bow slung across his back, expression calm and focused.
Miraleth stopped a few paces from the wall. She raised one hand, fingers tracing the air as though reading invisible threads.
"It is right there," she said softly.
Morbelith tilted her head, a sly smile playing on her lips.
"Why all this secrecy?" she asked. "I could have simply killed that woman and been done with it."
Miraleth's blind gaze remained fixed on the wall.
"Everyone has their own role to play," she replied calmly, "and right now you are fit for this job."
Morbelith asked, "What about Gruk and Aamon?"
Miraleth simply smiled and walked away.
Vael and Aamon, hidden in the shadows, realized with sudden clarity whom they were speaking of.
His mother.
Miraleth continued, her voice carrying the weight of prophecy.
"Now, nothing will interfere with the wheel."
As soon as the words left her lips, Vael's system flared to life of its own accord.
[Quest Pending…]
[Time Countdown: 24 hours]
The blue text hovered coldly in his vision.
Vael understood everything in that instant.
The pieces fell into place with terrifying clarity. Miraleth was not merely a prophetess following fate she was actively working to ensure the wheel turned exactly as written. The strange calmness during the fight, the calculated words… it all pointed to one truth.
They sought to remove every variable that could derail the prophecy.
And his mother the last anchor keeping him tethered to a normal life was now in their sights.
He turned slightly toward Aamon, voice barely above a whisper.
"We need to move. Now."
Back on the hill, a soft knock sounded at the door of the modest house.
Gruk froze mid-step inside the kitchen, head tilting slightly. His usual grin returned sharp, knowing.
He sensed someone he knew.
Vael's mother, still humming softly from the day's work, wiped her hands on her apron and opened the door with a welcoming smile.
The blade struck her chest before she could speak.
A sharp, wet sound cut through the quiet night.
Gruk's eyes widened in horror.
"No!"
He lunged forward, catching her as she crumpled. Blood bloomed across her apron, soaking through the fabric in seconds. Her breathing was shallow, ragged, each gasp a struggle.
Gruk held her close, voice cracking with a pain he had never known before.
"Stay with me… stay with me!"
The attacker stood in the doorway Haldir, bow still in hand, face pale with shock at seeing Gruk there.
Without hesitation, Haldir nocked another arrow, aiming at Gruk.
Gruk's expression twisted anger and sorrow warring on his face in a way he had never felt before. This raw, human pain was new to him.
Haldir loosed the arrow. Then another. And another.
Each one struck true, burying deep into Gruk's chest and shoulder.
"Nothing personal," Haldir said with a cold smile.
Gruk coughed once, blood on his lips, then began to giggle low at first, then louder, wild and unhinged.
"You puny human…"
He ripped the arrows out one by one, wounds closing almost instantly, flesh knitting together with demonic speed.
"You think you can kill me?"
Gruk released his aura.
A wave of pure demonic pressure rolled outward heavy, suffocating, ancient. The air itself seemed to darken.
Aamon and Vael, far away in the capital, felt it at once a distant but unmistakable surge.
Haldir's face drained of color. He finally understood.
Gruk was no ordinary warrior.
He was a demon.
Haldir turned to run.
Gruk was faster.
He blocked the path in an instant, exchanging blows with brutal force. Haldir fought desperately, but he was no match. Each strike from Gruk landed like a falling boulder ribs cracked, blood sprayed, bones splintered.
As Haldir thought he might escape, a figure appeared behind him.
Vael.
With terrifying speed, Vael delivered a single, powerful slap. The force was overwhelming. Haldir's body flew sideways and collapsed unconscious on the ground.
Vael's eyes fell on his mother.
She lay cold on the floor, blood pooling beneath her.
For the first time in this life, Vael cried out loud a raw, painful cry that tore from his chest and echoed through the quiet house.
Aamon stood frozen nearby, a single tear slipping down his cheek. He did not understand the feeling, only that it burned.
Memories flashed warm meals, gentle scolding, laughter in the kitchen, the simple kindness she had shown them both.
All gone.
Vael dropped to his knees beside her, voice breaking.
"If you hadn't forced me to join the guild… this would never have happened."
The house fell silent.
Only the sound of Vael's ragged breathing remained.
Aamon stepped closer, voice quiet.
"What should we do with him?"
Vael looked at the unconscious Haldir, eyes cold and empty.
"Kill him."
To be continued.