Chapter 4: Whispers of Shadows

The thick mist that blanketed Tiren Village swirled gently as Margo and Ashthi appeared at the village's edge. Ashthi took a deep breath, savoring the familiar scents of wet earth and aged wood. This was her home—though, in truth, she didn't feel much attachment to it beyond the power it represented. As they walked through the village, heads turned and villagers whispered, watching in both awe and unease. Margo Felivea had returned, and his daughter was with him.

They made their way to the village chief's house, which, of course, was Margo's home. It stood tall and imposing, its stone walls adorned with ancient runes. Inside, the furnishings were sparse but dignified, befitting the home of a powerful sword mage. Margo walked ahead, his footsteps echoing through the silent hall as he gestured for Ashthi to follow him.

The two made their way to the main hall, where a solitary fireplace cast flickering light across the room. Margo settled into the high-backed chair by the hearth, his form almost blending with the darkened shadows behind him. Ashthi took her place across from him, her face lit by the fire's glow, a faint, knowing smile on her lips.

Margo's eyes narrowed as he studied her, his gaze hard and inquisitive. "Ashthi," he began, his tone controlled but edged with curiosity. "Why did you ask me to spare that parson."

Ashthi returned his gaze, her smile unfaltering but her eyes sharp. "That parson you mean Divit." Margo said "so that was his name". Asthi said "Why not, Father?" she replied, her tone almost playful. "Divit… is interesting."

Margo leaned back, crossing his arms. "Interesting? Since when do you indulge in idle curiosities?" he asked, skeptical but intrigued. Ashthi had always possessed a dark fascination with the unknown, often exploring hidden secrets and testing boundaries, yet rarely did she get so invested in a mere captive.

Ashthi's expression softened, her smile growing wider yet remaining calculated. "Oh, don't worry, Father," she said. "It's not sentiment. Divit is unusual, isn't he? There's something about him I can't quite figure out, and that bothers me. I want to understand what makes him different, to dig beneath his surface and see what secrets he hides."

"Ah," Margo murmured, his eyes gleaming with approval. "You wish to learn from him. Like a puzzle you can't resist solving."

Ashthi tilted her head, her smile deepening. "Precisely. I've seen him; there's something… hidden within him, something more than just a villager or another prisoner. And I have a feeling it might be valuable."

Margo chuckled darkly. "Then you take after me more than I thought. But remember, he is a prisoner. Do not let your curiosity cloud your judgment. People with hidden strengths often become problems rather than assets."

"Of course," Ashthi replied smoothly, folding her hands in her lap. "I wouldn't dream of letting my interest compromise anything. Divit is like an artifact, Father. I want to study him, understand what power lies within him—nothing more."

Satisfied for the moment, Margo glanced toward the window, his gaze drawn by the faint silhouettes of trees outside, looming like phantoms in the mist. "Curiosity is valuable, Ashthi. But some mysteries only lead to disappointment."

"Do you remember the tale of the god of shadows, Hemona, and her pet, Erignite?" Ashthi asked suddenly, her voice soft and contemplative. Her eyes gleamed with a glint of mischief, as though she already knew the answer.

Margo smirked, his amusement plain. "Hemona, the god of shadows, and her pet Erignite, the shadow monster? The story says that Erignite roams the shadow realms, bound to ask any who find him a question. And if answered correctly, the prize is power enough to win the world." He scoffed, his voice tinged with skepticism. "An old fable, designed to entice children."

"Perhaps," Ashthi agreed, though her smile suggested she was unconvinced. "But not every story is born from myth alone. Some hold grains of truth, waiting to be uncovered by those who seek them."

Margo laughed quietly, his tone a blend of mirth and warning. "Ashthi, stories like that lead people to waste lifetimes chasing shadows. Power is forged, claimed through conquest, not handed out by some god on a whim. Even if Hemona exists, no ancient creature would willingly part with that kind of power. It's a tale, meant to instill false hope in the powerless."

Ashthi merely shrugged, her gaze drifting to the flames crackling in the hearth. "Even if it's just a tale, Father… shadows often hide the most interesting secrets." She paused, glancing back at him with a grin. "And it's not as if I'd abandon my studies to chase down a monster of myth. But Divit… Divit might hold clues to things we haven't yet imagined."

Margo's expression hardened, but he couldn't suppress a glimmer of respect. "I see," he murmured. "You believe this boy might be tied to something greater than himself. It would be poetic, wouldn't it? Finding a piece of this shadowed legend right under our control." He chuckled, his gaze sharpening. "But Ashthi, don't let your fascination become weakness. If Divit becomes more valuable dead than alive, don't hesitate."

Ashthi's smile faded, her expression turning serious. "I understand, Father. He's a curiosity. If he proves too much… I'll take care of him myself."

Ashthi tilted her head, her grin returning. "I think I understand, Father. And Divit… he may yet reveal something useful. If he's connected to any kind of power, even a fragment, I'll be the first to uncover it."

Margo's gaze softened slightly, but only for a moment. "Then pursue your curiosity, Ashthi. But do so wisely. Power, after all, is a weapon best wielded with precision."

Ashthi smiled, her thoughts already spiraling with ideas, questions, and plans. Divit was an enigma, a puzzle wrapped in secrets. And as she studied the dancing shadows cast by the fire, she knew she would soon unravel each one.

Chapter 4 end