Kael’s Warning

The village of Eldermere still smelled of blood and burning wood.

The bodies of the fallen had been gathered at the edge of the village, waiting to be buried in a mass grave. Some of the villagers still wept, their voices hushed and distant, a painful murmur carried by the cold morning air. The battle had ended, but the wounds it left behind—both in flesh and in spirit—would not fade so easily.

Aric sat near the remains of the eastern barricade, watching as Lira and a few others worked to patch the damage. His hands rested on his knees, fingers twitching involuntarily, as if his body still hadn't fully recovered from the power that had surged through him the night before.

He should have been resting, but sleep had eluded him. Every time he closed his eyes, the visions returned.

A city of towering black spires.

A throne, empty and cracked, drenched in the light of a dying sun.

A battlefield long forgotten, where bodies turned to dust in the wind.

He knew those places. He knew them, but he did not remember them.

And that terrified him.

"You're pushing yourself too soon."

Kael's voice cut through his thoughts.

Aric turned to find the traveler standing a few feet away, arms crossed, golden eyes gleaming with something between amusement and concern. His usual smirk was absent.

"I don't have time to rest," Aric muttered.

Kael stepped closer, crouching beside him. "No, I imagine you don't. Especially since you seem to be remembering things you shouldn't."

Aric's fingers stilled.

Kael exhaled, rubbing his temple. "I saw your face last night when that thing appeared. You weren't just afraid, Aric. You recognized it."

Aric wanted to deny it. But he couldn't.

Because it was true.

The shadowed figure that had stepped from the trees, the way the world had felt wrong in its presence—he had felt it before. Somewhere. Somewhen.

"I don't know what it was," Aric admitted. "Not fully. But… I think it knows me."

Kael's jaw tightened. "That's what I was afraid of."

Aric turned to him sharply. "You knew something like this would happen?"

Kael let out a slow breath, his gaze flickering toward the ruins of the battlefield. "Not exactly. But I've seen things before. Things that don't belong in this world. Places where the air feels too thick, where the shadows stretch in ways they shouldn't. And people—" He hesitated. "—people like you."

Aric stiffened. "Like me?"

Kael nodded. "People who… come back."

----

A gust of wind passed through the ruined village, carrying with it the faint scent of rot and something else—a metallic sharpness, like rusted iron.

Aric's stomach twisted.

That scent… it was coming from the forest.

Kael followed his gaze. His lips pressed into a thin line. "You feel it too, don't you?"

Aric pushed himself up, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten. The edge of the forest looked the same as always—dark, dense, and unwelcoming. But something was different now.

It felt alive.

Not in the way a forest should be alive, with the quiet hum of insects and the rustle of leaves in the breeze. This was different. It was as if the very air surrounding it was… watching.

The last time he had felt this sensation was when the rift had begun to awaken.

A sudden snap of wood made him turn sharply. A few yards away, Garrick was leading a group of men toward the treeline, spears in hand. They were moving cautiously, eyes scanning the undergrowth.

Aric strode toward them. "What are you doing?"

Garrick stopped, glancing over his shoulder. "Checking for stragglers." His voice was gruff, but there was unease behind it. "We found three wolves still standing this morning. They should have been dead."

A chill ran through Aric's veins. "And?"

"We killed them," Garrick said simply. "Again."

A heavy silence settled between them.

Then—

One of the younger hunters near the trees gasped sharply and stumbled back. "The hell is that?"

Aric followed his gaze.

Something lay tangled in the roots at the edge of the forest. At first, he thought it was just another wolf carcass.

But then he saw the bones.

The body had withered beyond recognition. The flesh had shriveled, the muscles dried and clinging to the skeleton like brittle paper. The eyes were hollow sockets, blackened and empty.

This thing had not simply died.

It had been drained.

Lira appeared beside him, her expression dark. "That's not normal."

"No," Kael murmured. "It's not."

The wind picked up, howling through the trees in a way that sounded almost like… laughter.

The forest was watching them.

And the rift was awake.

----

The discovery of the withered wolves spread through Eldermere like wildfire. By midday, the village had turned into a battlefield of whispers and accusations.

Some believed Aric had saved them. Others were beginning to fear him.

"I saw it with my own eyes," one man muttered near the well. "That power he used—it wasn't magic. It wasn't normal."

"Would you rather be dead?" a woman shot back.

"That's not the point! What if he's the reason this happened? What if—"

"I trust him," Lira interrupted, arms crossed. "Without him, we'd all be dead. Simple as that."

Others weren't so easily convinced.

Garrick stood near the village square, sharpening his spear with slow, deliberate strokes. His face was unreadable, but his silence spoke volumes.

Elder Mara finally stepped forward, silencing the growing argument with a single glance.

"We will not tear ourselves apart with fear," she said. "Not when the real threat is still out there." She turned to Aric. "But I will ask this, boy—what exactly are you?"

All eyes turned to him.

Aric met Mara's gaze.

"I don't know," he admitted. "But I intend to find out."

A long silence followed.

Then Mara nodded. "Then do it quickly."

The villagers slowly dispersed, their whispers lingering in the air.

Kael clapped Aric on the shoulder. "Well, that went better than expected."

Aric exhaled. "Did it?"

Kael shrugged. "You weren't burned at the stake. That's progress."

Lira smirked faintly. "Small victories."

Aric looked toward the forest once more. The trees hadn't stopped watching.

And neither had the rift.

Whatever had changed last night—it wasn't finished.

Not by a long shot.