Chapter Fifteen: Fading Echoes of War

The battlefield was silent.

The once-roaring fires had dwindled to embers, the corpses of the Blackfang warriors strewn across the blood-soaked ground. The acrid scent of death, sweat, and charred remains lingered in the air, refusing to dissipate even as the wind howled through the ruined village.

Mira stood over Vaelin's lifeless body, her breath still shallow, her blades dripping crimson.

Her hands shook.

Not from exhaustion. Not from fear.

But from the sheer finality of what they had just done.

Roderic, kneeling in the mud, pressed a hand against the stump where his arm used to be. Blood poured from the wound, soaking his armor, but his expression remained calm.

He had accepted the price of victory before he had even struck the final blow.

Beyond them, Alex lay motionless, his body cold and still, his face devoid of life.

Mira turned to him, heart pounding. "Alex?"

No response.

She dropped to her knees beside him, pressing her fingers to his neck. His pulse was weak, faint—but there.

Relief washed over her like a tide.

But it was short-lived.

A faint whisper slithered through the air.

It wasn't a voice.

It wasn't even sound.

It was something deeper, something darker.

It came from him.

From Alex.

Mira pulled back, her fingers cold as ice, her stomach twisting in unease.

Something had awakened within him on that battlefield.

Something they didn't understand.

And as she stared at his unconscious form, the lingering shadows curling around him like phantom chains, one thought echoed in her mind.

What have we unleashed?

The remaining villagers emerged from their hiding places, stepping onto the battlefield with wide, hollow eyes.

Many wept. Others simply stared, numb from the horror of the fight.

They had survived.

But at what cost?

Roderic exhaled slowly, finally pushing himself to his feet. The pain in his missing arm was unbearable, but he refused to acknowledge it. He looked over the battlefield one last time before turning to Mira.

"We need to move him." His voice was rough, weary. "He can't stay here."

Mira nodded. "Agreed."

But where could they go?

The Blackfangs had been wiped out, but their allies still existed. The mercenary band had ties to rogue nobles, corrupt barons, and warlords spread across the land.

And now that Vaelin was dead, someone would come looking for them.

She gritted her teeth. "We're not safe here."

Roderic glanced down at Alex. "Then we take him somewhere safe."

Mira hesitated. "There's no safe place for him anymore."

Roderic's jaw tightened. "Then we make one."

The village buried its dead.

There was no celebration. No relief.

Only quiet mourning.

By dawn, Mira and Roderic had gathered supplies, securing a cart to carry Alex's unconscious body. His breathing had steadied, but he had yet to wake.

The villagers—those who remained—offered no resistance as they left.

Perhaps they understood.

Or perhaps they simply feared what Alex had become.

As they moved toward the forest path, Roderic glanced at Mira. "Where do we go?"

She exhaled slowly, looking ahead. "West. Toward the Free Cities."

"The Free Cities?" He frowned. "That's a lawless region."

"Exactly."

They needed to disappear.

And the best way to do that was to go where no one was looking.

Roderic grunted in agreement, gripping the reins of the cart. "Then we'd best move fast. We don't know how much time we have before someone else comes after us."

Mira's gaze flickered to Alex.

His face was pale. His body unnaturally cold.

And deep in her gut, she felt it.

Something was changing within him.

Something even Vaelin's death hadn't stopped.

And they were running out of time.

Three days passed.

Three days of relentless travel.

Three days of watching over Alex's motionless form, waiting for him to wake.

The sun had long since set, the sky dark and moonless, when Mira finally caught something out of place.

A flicker.

A shadow that shouldn't have existed.

She tensed, hand going to her dagger.

"Roderic," she whispered.

He turned sharply, hand resting on his sword. "What is it?"

Before she could answer—

Alex's eyes snapped open.

Mira froze.

They weren't the same.

His irises, once dark, were now etched with shifting shadows, a swirling abyss that looked like it could consume the very night itself.

And when he spoke, his voice was his—

Yet not his.

"Something is coming."

Mira's blood ran cold.

And then—

The forest erupted into chaos.