Chapter 17: Threads of Fate

The forest of Vartes stretched endlessly before Ardyn, its towering trees blotting out the sunlight and casting the ground below in a perpetual twilight. The air was thick with magic, an ancient energy that seemed to hum beneath his feet. He walked cautiously, his greatsword slung across his back, his senses sharp.

"Of all the places…" Ardyn muttered, brushing aside a low-hanging branch. "Why do elves always have to live in the middle of nowhere?"

His journey to the Vartes Elf Kingdom had been long and arduous, driven by whispers of a sorceress who could wield demonic energy without succumbing to its corruption. If the rumors were true, she might hold the answers he sought—not just about the growing demonic forces, but about Trevor as well.

The forest suddenly grew quiet, the usual rustle of leaves and distant bird calls vanishing as though the world itself had paused. Ardyn's hand instinctively went to his sword, his sharp blue eyes scanning the shadows.

"Relax," a voice called out, soft but carrying a melodic lilt. "You'll scare the trees."

Ardyn turned sharply, his grip tightening on his weapon. A woman stepped out from behind a nearby tree, her movements graceful, almost ethereal. She was clad in flowing robes of deep crimson and black, her hair a cascade of silver that framed a youthful but wise face. Her eyes were a piercing violet, holding an unsettling mix of kindness and power.

"You're not an elf," Ardyn said bluntly, though he didn't lower his hand.

The woman smiled faintly. "Neither are you, Swordsaint."

"I've heard rumors," Ardyn said, his tone guarded. "Of a sorceress who wields demonic energy without losing her mind. Judging from your outfit and the faint release of demonic aura coming from you, I assume that's you?"

The woman tilted her head, a spark of amusement in her eyes. "People do like their titles, don't they? But yes, I am familiar with the energy you speak of. And you are Ardyn, the Swordsaint."

Ardyn raised an eyebrow. "You know me?"

"I make it a point to know anyone who walks so boldly between the lines of light and shadow," she said, her smile never wavering. "Come, we can talk more in a place that doesn't require you to keep your sword at the ready."

Reluctantly, Ardyn followed her deeper into the forest, the magical hum growing stronger with every step. They emerged into a clearing where a small, intricately designed hut stood, its walls covered in glowing runes. The air was thick with energy, yet it felt strangely calming.

"I am Kaelith," the sorceress said, gesturing for Ardyn to sit at a stone table outside the hut. "And yes, I wield demonic energy. But only because I understand its nature."

"And what's that?" Ardyn asked, sitting cautiously.

Kaelith's expression grew thoughtful. "Demonic energy is not inherently evil. It is chaotic, yes, and often destructive. But with the right balance, it can be controlled. Harnessed."

Ardyn frowned. "And yet, most people who try lose themselves."

Kaelith nodded. "Because they fight it. They fear it. To master it, you must understand it… and yourself."

Her words struck a chord with Ardyn, but he pushed the thought aside. "I'm looking for answers about another… a man who wields both divine and demonic energy."

"And you came to the elf village? You won't have found anything there."

Ardyn sighed, crossing his feet. "Well, I didn't know where to start and this man, Trevor, he's a mystery I can't ignore."

Kaelith's serene demeanor faltered, just slightly. Her violet eyes sharpened, though her smile remained. "Trevor? That's a name I haven't heard in some time."

"You know him?" Ardyn pressed.

Kaelith leaned back, her gaze drifting toward the forest. "You could say that. He's a student of mine… or rather, he was."

***

Back in Priestilia, Trevor stood in the training grounds with Beatrice and the Guardians. The arena was quiet, save for the faint hum of energy that still lingered from his trial. Trevor was sharpening his sword, his movements slow and methodical, as Beatrice paced nearby.

"You don't have to keep glaring at them," Trevor said without looking up.

Beatrice stopped, crossing her arms. "I wasn't glaring."

"You were," Trevor said with a faint smirk. "It's fine. Let them stew."

Beatrice sighed, glancing toward the platform where the Guardians were gathered, speaking in hushed tones. "They're still debating whether or not to trust you. After everything you've done."

Trevor shrugged. "I don't need their trust."

"Maybe not," she said, her tone softening. "But it would help."

Trevor finally looked up, his gray eyes meeting hers. "Trust isn't something I've had much luck with."

Beatrice frowned. "Trevor…"

He cut her off, his smirk returning. "Don't worry about me, Princess. I've dealt with worse."

Their conversation was interrupted as Sylvan approached, his youthful features lit with curiosity.

"Trevor," Sylvan began, "your control during the trial was… unique. It reminded me of something I've read about—a technique for balancing opposing energies."

Trevor raised an eyebrow. "You're full of questions, aren't you?"

Sylvan smiled faintly. "Curiosity is part of my role. But I have to ask—where did you learn to wield such power?"

Trevor hesitated, his expression flickering for the briefest moment. "I had a teacher once. She taught me how to survive when no one else could."

"Who?" Sylvan asked, his tone cautious but intrigued.

Trevor's smirk returned, though his eyes darkened slightly. "Someone who understood chaos better than anyone."

Beatrice watched him closely, sensing the weight behind his words. "This teacher of yours… are they still alive?"

Trevor's gaze drifted to the horizon. "I wouldn't bet against her."

Later, as Beatrice walked beside Trevor through the palace gardens, she couldn't hold back her curiosity any longer.

"That teacher you mentioned," she said carefully. "Was she the one who taught you to control… all of this?"

Trevor nodded, his expression unreadable. "She taught me more than that. She taught me how to survive when the world wanted me dead."

Beatrice hesitated. "Do you trust her?"

Trevor's smirk was faint but genuine. "More than most. But she's not someone you'd want to cross."

"Why not?"

He glanced at her, his gray eyes glinting with a hint of mischief. "Let's just say she has a way of reminding people that chaos isn't always a bad thing."

Beatrice frowned, but before she could press further, Trevor changed the subject, his tone light. "Enough about me. When are you going to stop worrying and start enjoying your victories?"

She sighed, shaking her head. "When you stop being so cryptic."

"Good luck with that," Trevor said with a chuckle, turning toward the horizon as the whispers in his mind stirred once more.

***

Back in Vartes, Kaelith watched Ardyn with a curious intensity.

"If you're looking for answers about Trevor," she said, "you'll need more than what I can give you. But I will say this—his path isn't one you'll easily unravel. He's not just a student. He's something far more dangerous."

Ardyn's eyes narrowed. "Dangerous how?"

Kaelith's smile returned, but her tone was cryptic. "You'll see soon enough."