Escape

Vadore was built to endure, not to fight. The city had withstood time and tide beneath the waves, its people blessed by the Sea Queen's favour. Now, as the Dark Templar's corruption surged through its halls, the people did what they had always done in the face of disaster—they fled to the water.

Aldric watched as the citizens dove into the depths, vanishing beneath the shimmering surface of the city barrier. The ocean would not reject them. The blessing of Nerith allowed them to breathe, to seek safety in the depths.

He and Lysara had no such advantage.

His lungs burned, his legs heavy. Each breath came harder than the last. He had nothing left to give, yet he forced his body to move. The maze-like streets of Vadore had kept them hidden this long, but they were running out of places to turn.

Ahead, Keras stumbled, one hand pressed to his side, trident dragging against the ground. Even he, touched by Nerith's power, had limits. They all did.

Aldric's fists clenched. He was tired of this—running, retreating, barely surviving. How many battles had they escaped by the skin of their teeth? How many times had he been too weak to stand his ground?

If I were stronger, I could end this. I could stand and fight.

The thought latched onto him like a leech, whispering in the back of his mind. Power. That was the answer. If he were strong enough, no one would have to die. No one would have to flee. He wouldn't have to watch his allies fall while he was too weak to save them.

The idea slithered deeper, tempting, offering. The world was full of horrors, of monsters that cared nothing for honour or mercy.

He could stop them all.

His steps faltered. Sir Danton's voice echoed in his mind, cutting through the haze.

"Power should be a burden, not a prize—those who seek it will find only their own corruption."

Aldric exhaled sharply, forcing his focus back to the present. Power for power's sake led only to ruin. He had seen what it had done to the Keeper. How his hunger for something greater had twisted him into something unrecognizable.

He was not that man. He would never be that man.

They reached the outer ring of Vadore. Beyond the coral walls, only open water and the distant beach remained. The building they had relied on for cover ended here. If the Dark Templar reached them now, there would be no more running.

Keras leaned against the wall, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Blood darkened the water around his side, trailing in thin ribbons. He wouldn't last much longer.

Lysara reached out and only a small amount of holy light surrounded her hand, but his wound closed. "Sorry, need to conserve power"

Yet he forced himself forward. His hand stretched toward the barrier, fingers pressing against the smooth, shimmering wall of magic. A tremor passed through the structure, and with a low hum, the surface wavered.

A path opened.

The gap between them and the beach was no more than three hundred meters, yet it might as well have been leagues. The Templar's presence tainted the air, a growing weight pressing against them.

"We're almost there," Lysara said, gripping Aldric's arm, urging him onward. Her scales shimmered purple, he could feel her determination even though exhaustion clung to her. "Once we reach the beach, the Mother's Barrier should protect us."

Aldric nodded, steeling himself. They had one last stretch to cross.

And behind them, the Dark Templar's rage howled through the ruined city.

The open water stretched before them, offering no cover, no sanctuary. Only a thin path separated them from the vast ocean on one side and the cursed city of Vadore on the other. And the Dark Templar was close—too close.

Aldric barely had time to react before the first wave of black energy slammed into them. He moved on instinct, raising his shield just as the attack crashed against it like a tidal wave of pure malice. The impact rattled his bones. The shield held—for a moment. Then cracks splintered across the surface, webbing like lightning before it fractured completely.

He threw the useless remains aside just as the next attack came.

No cover. No defense. Only steel.

His sword was all he had left. He stepped forward, bracing his feet, and met the darkness with cold steel. The first strike sent a jolt through his arm, but he held firm, deflecting the blow just enough to redirect it. Another came, and he turned it aside. Again. And again. Each impact chipped away at his blade, sparks of divine power and corrupted energy colliding in the air.

Then, just as suddenly as the attack had started—it stopped.

The tendrils of darkness recoiled, curling and writhing like a wounded serpent. The Templar's power halted, as if meeting an invisible wall.

Aldric breathed heavily, sweat and seawater dripping from his brow. His grip on the sword tightened as he waited for the next assault. But it never came.

Lysara exhaled, her scales shimmering with relief. "It can't reach us," she said, her voice firm despite her exhaustion. "Corruption can't cross the barrier. In either direction."

Aldric blinked, his muscles still tense, waiting for the lie to be revealed. But the truth of her words hung in the air. The Dark Templar stood beyond the threshold, his aura of decay churning like a storm just out of reach. He could see them, he could rage against them, but he could not touch them.

They had escaped.

For now.

Aldric let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He glanced down at his sword—pitted, dulled, barely more than a shard of battered steel. It had served him well, but it wouldn't last another fight. He sheathed it regardless.

They continued forward. Step by step, putting distance between them and the thing that had nearly ended them.

The march stretched on for what felt like an eternity. Muscles ached, wounds burned, but no one spoke of stopping. Not until their bodies threatened to fail them.

After an hour of walking, they found a dry cave nestled beneath a large tree inside the forest. It wasn't much, but it was shelter.

Keras dropped heavily onto the ground, clutching his wounded side. Lysara collapsed beside him, silent but breathing.

Aldric remained standing for a moment longer, staring back at the path they had taken before he too fell to the ground.

---

Aldric drifted on the edge of consciousness, the sensation of fingers threading through his hair keeping him anchored to the waking world. It took him a moment to register the oddity of the situation—his head rested on something soft, the scent of rain and old parchment lingering nearby.

Lysara.

His mind scrambled for a response. Should he move? Say something? Instead, he remained still, letting his breathing stay steady, feigning sleep. He doubted she was fooled.

Across the makeshift camp, Keras shifted, his voice low but steady. "And what of you, Lysara? What's your next step?"

There was a pause before she answered. "First, I take Aldric back to Mother. She will have guidance for us. The scriptures need to be restored, and without them, we are fighting blind."

Aldric felt her fingers pause for a fraction of a second before continuing.

"You think the Dark Templar will stay contained in Vadore?" Keras asked.

Lysara let out a slow breath. "I don't know."

The silence that followed was heavy.

"The barrier will hold against corruption crossing it," she continued, "but this isn't the same. That thing inside the Keeper... it transformed him. And if it found a way to do that inside the barrier, then the barrier may not be enough to keep it in."

Keras cursed under his breath. "Then the Sea Queen's cities won't be safe either. I had planned to gather what survivors I could and take them to one of the hidden sanctuaries. But if what you're saying is true..."

Lysara sighed. "I don't think hiding is an option anymore. The Karnaxians are compromised. The Tellik Coalition is gone. There's no stronghold left that can resist corruption on this side of mountains, not for long."

Aldric swallowed hard. He wanted to believe she was wrong, that there was a place left untainted, somewhere to regroup. But deep down, he knew she was right.

"And the Dark Templar?" Keras pressed.

Lysara hesitated. Aldric could hear it in her breath, feel it in the slight change of rhythm as she combed through his hair. When she finally spoke, her voice carried a weight he hadn't heard from her before.

"I've fought one before."

Keras went still.

"It was in the Veil. Or, as most call it, the Void." Her tone was distant, her mind clearly recalling a memory far removed from their quiet camp. "There were ten of us. All Lightborn. And we had a Grand Paladin leading the charge."

Aldric's stomach turned.

Keras exhaled. "And?"

Lysara's fingers stilled completely. "We won," she said, though her voice lacked the victory one would expect. "But it took everything. Our best prayers. Every ounce of divine power we could channel. We lost five in the first few minutes. Three more by the end."

A heavy pause.

"The Grand Paladin landed the final blow. But even he didn't walk away from it."

The fire crackled between them, throwing long shadows against the cavern walls.

Aldric clenched his fists, hidden beneath the fabric of his cloak. Ten Lightborn. A Grand Paladin. And they barely won.

"And you?" Keras asked, voice unreadable. "You're still here."

Lysara let out a breath that was almost a laugh. "I'm not a fighter."

Keras frowned. "Come again?"

"I'm not a warrior," she clarified. "I'm a support cleric. My role was to shield, heal, and bolster my allies. The real combat was never my place."

Aldric's mind reeled at that. The way she moved, the way she fought—he had assumed she was a seasoned warrior. Even their training sessions had been brutal. If that was her holding back, what was she truly capable of?

Keras seemed to share his disbelief. "You're telling me you're not a front-line fighter?"

Lysara shook her head. "No. And that's why I don't know what will happen if this Dark Templar gets loose. He wasn't as strong as the one I faced but -"

Her silver eyes flickered in the firelight. "Aldric has potential. But he's not ready. We are not ready."

Aldric's heart pounded. He didn't disagree. But hearing it spoken aloud made it feel real.

Keras ran a hand down his face, weary beyond words. "Then you'd best hope that Mother of yours has an answer."

Lysara's fingers brushed through Aldric's hair one final time before she shifted, rising to her feet.

"We leave at first light."

Aldric kept his breathing even, eyes closed. He would process all of this later.

For now, he would rest. Because come dawn, he had a feeling he would need every ounce of strength he could muster.

---

Morning light filtered through the dense canopy, painting shifting patterns across the forest floor. The damp scent of earth and fresh leaves filled the air, but Aldric hardly noticed. Kneeling in a small clearing, he pressed his holy symbol against his palm, the cool silver a familiar comfort. 

His voice was steady, quiet but resolute. "Shield of the faithful, light in darkness. Steady my hand, guide my path."

The words had been spoken by countless warriors before him, but now, alone in the forest, they felt heavier than ever. He closed his eyes, focusing on the mark on his chest where Tellik's blessing resided. He felt the warmth there, a quiet presence, an ember that had yet to fully ignite. 

His strength was not his own. It was a gift—a responsibility. And every morning, he renewed that bond. 

A branch snapped behind him. 

Aldric exhaled, finishing his final words before rising to his feet. Keras stood a few paces away, arms crossed, watching him with an expression that was neither mockery nor reverence—just curiosity. 

"You pray like a man with something to prove," Keras said. 

Aldric dusted off his knees. "I pray like a man who knows his limits." 

Keras smirked but didn't push further. Instead, he adjusted his pack. "This is where we part ways." 

Aldric met his gaze, surprised at the suddenness. 

"You're sure?" 

Keras nodded. "I need to find as many survivors as I can, get them somewhere safe. Maybe one of the other hidden cities." 

Lysara, who had been leaning against a tree nearby, arms crossed, let out a sharp breath. "as I said last night I don't think hiding is an option anymore," she said. "With the Karnaxians corrupted and the Tellik Coalition destroyed, there aren't many places left to run." 

Keras's jaw tightened. "People need time. If I can give them even a little, it's worth it." 

Lysara studied him, then gave a slow nod. "Then I hope you find them a place where the darkness can't reach." 

Aldric extended a hand. "I hope we meet again." 

Keras grasped his wrist in a firm shake. "You've got a long road ahead, paladin. Try not to die before you figure out where it leads." 

Aldric smirked. "No promises." 

With that, Keras turned and disappeared into the trees. 

Lysara sighed, rolling her shoulders. "Come on. We have ground to cover." Her scales shone light blue in the early dawn sun.

Aldric hesitated for a moment before following her deeper into the forest. 

The forest was thick, the path uneven, but Lysara moved with practised ease, plucking berries from bushes, digging at the base of trees for hidden roots, and gathering plants Aldric couldn't name. 

He raised a brow as she handed him a handful of golden nuts. 

"The best of Mother's gifts," she said simply. 

He rolled one between his fingers before popping it into his mouth. It was rich, slightly sweet, filling in a way that most food wasn't.

Aldric chewed thoughtfully. He had always been devoted to Tellik, to his duty as a protector. The idea of a deity providing something as simple as food felt foreign to him. His prayers had never been about survival—they had been about strength. 

He let the thought pass as they walked. 

After a while, curiosity gnawed at him. "You've mentioned a Grand Paladin before," he said, watching her closely. "What were they like?" 

Lysara slowed, tilting her head as if considering how to answer. 

"They were like a bulwark," she said finally. "Unshakable. Steadfast. No matter how bad things got, you always felt safe when they were around." 

Aldric frowned. "That's not much of a description." 

Lysara huffed a quiet laugh. "You don't describe a Grand Paladin. You experience them." 

She glanced at him, eyes distant. "The last one I fought beside… I remember how it felt to stand at their back. You could be surrounded, outnumbered, the odds hopeless—but it didn't matter. As long as they stood, you knew the battle wasn't lost." 

Aldric listened carefully, her words sinking in. 

"The Treluc we fought in Vadore?" she continued. "That wouldn't even be a warm-up to them." 

Aldric raised a brow. "Seriously?" 

Lysara nodded. "They would have cut it down like it was nothing. Grand Paladins don't hesitate. They don't doubt. They are faith, given form." 

Aldric exhaled. He had never met one. The closest thing had been Sir Danton. 

Was that how his master had seemed to others? Unshakable? 

He didn't feel unshakable. 

Lysara nudged him suddenly. "You're thinking too hard." 

Aldric smirked. "Is that a crime?" 

"Not yet. But if you ever become one of them, I'd rather not listen to you giving inspiring speeches every morning." 

Aldric chuckled, shaking his head.