Chapter 6: Echoes of the Forgotten

Eliam emerged from the crypt's entrance, stepping onto damp earth as the cool night air wrapped around him. The sky above was a deep shade of indigo, dotted with stars that seemed more distant than he remembered. A heavy mist clung to the ground, swirling like restless spirits as he moved forward.

The world felt different.

He inhaled deeply, adjusting to the weight of mortality once again. The scents of firewood, damp soil, and distant livestock told him he was near civilization. Faint voices carried through the air low murmurs, the occasional bark of a stray dog.

A village.

Eliam's gaze swept over the landscape, and soon, he spotted the glow of lanterns flickering between the trees. He moved forward, his steps silent against the earth, his mind already turning over possibilities.

The Arbiter's words still lingered in his thoughts.

"Seraphine still exists… but her fate is bound to forces beyond even the gods' will."

It was impossible. Seraphine had died. He had seen it. Had held her lifeless body in his arms. And yet… if she lived, then nothing else mattered.

The world could burn, the gods could hunt him none of it would stop him from finding her.

But first, he needed information.

As he approached the village, he took in his surroundings. The settlement was small, built from aged stone and weathered wood, with thatched roofs barely holding against the creeping dampness of the night. A handful of villagers still lingered outside their homes, speaking in hushed tones.

Eliam didn't stop. He moved with purpose, his presence unnoticed as he blended into the night. He needed a place where information flowed freely. Somewhere people spoke without thinking.

A tavern.

His sharp gaze soon landed on a building near the village center, its windows glowing warmly against the darkness. The scent of ale and roasting meat drifted from within, accompanied by the occasional burst of laughter.

Perfect.

Eliam pushed open the door, stepping inside.

The tavern was modest, filled with the scent of spiced wine, burning wood, and unwashed bodies. A few patrons sat hunched over their drinks, while a barmaid moved between tables, balancing a tray of mugs. In the far corner, a trio of men played a quiet game of dice, their eyes flicking toward Eliam as he entered.

He ignored them.

Instead, he moved toward the bar, where a stout man with a thick beard wiped down a wooden counter. The bartender barely glanced up as Eliam approached.

"What'll it be?" he asked, his voice rough from years of shouting over rowdy patrons.

Eliam reached into his cloak, feeling for coin only to remember he had none. He exhaled sharply.

"Information," he said instead.

The bartender raised an eyebrow. "That ain't free."

Eliam leaned in slightly. "Neither is ignorance."

The man paused, eyeing him more carefully. The way Eliam carried himself the steady gaze, the unshaken confidence was enough to make the bartender reconsider his usual approach.

Eliam tapped a finger against the counter. "I need to know if any unusual travelers have passed through. Someone who shouldn't be alive."

The bartender frowned. "That's a strange thing to ask."

"Then give me a strange answer."

For a moment, there was only the crackling of the fireplace. Then, the bartender exhaled and leaned in slightly.

"A week ago, a group of priests came through," he muttered. "Real secretive types. Didn't talk much, but they were escorting a woman kept her wrapped up in heavy robes, barely let her be seen."

Eliam's pulse quickened. "Where were they headed?"

The bartender shrugged. "Didn't say. But they had the look of men who didn't want to be followed."

Eliam's jaw tightened.

Priests.

He knew their kind. The holy men of this world had always been pawns of the gods, enforcing their will without question. If they had Seraphine, it wasn't for her benefit.

It was to hide her.

Or worse control her.

Eliam straightened, already calculating his next move. He had no money, no resources, and no allies. But none of that mattered.

He had a direction.

And that was all he needed.

Without another word, he turned and strode toward the door.

The bartender called after him, "If you're planning to chase them, you'd best be careful. They're not the only ones looking for her."

Eliam paused.

Slowly, he turned back. "Who else?"

The bartender hesitated, then lowered his voice.

"There's been talk. Shadows moving where they shouldn't. People disappearing. Some say the Inquisitors have been summoned."

Eliam's eyes darkened.

The Inquisitors.

The gods' executioners.

If they were involved, then this was bigger than he had thought.

Seraphine wasn't just alive.

She was important.

And if the gods wanted her locked away then Eliam would tear the heavens apart to get her back.

Without another word, he stepped into the night.