Chapter 4 – The Name That Should Not Be Known
Voss's breath hitched.
The way he spoke her name—it wasn't just recognition. It was something deeper. Something ancient.
Her mind raced. Who was he?
The knight stood tall, clad in blackened iron, his armor etched with forbidden runes. The cold aura around him felt like death itself.
But he did not strike.
Why?
Voss forced herself to move, stepping back. If she stayed, she would die.
Soren was still unconscious on the ground. She had to get him out of here.
Her fingers twitched toward her blade—then stopped.
What would a sword do against something like this?
The knight took another step forward, his cold, glowing eyes locked on her.
"You should not be here."
His voice was low, unnatural, as if spoken from somewhere beyond this world.
Voss's heartbeat slammed in her chest.
Think. Think. Think.
Then—
A distant roar.
Drakonix.
Voss's head snapped up.
The storm above split open.
And then, through the clouds—
Wings. Massive. Terrifying. A beast descending from the sky.
The moment the knight looked up—Voss moved.
She lunged for Soren, grabbing his arm, dragging him to his feet.
"Soren, get up!" she hissed.
He groaned, barely conscious.
The knight turned his head back to her.
Voss didn't wait.
She threw Soren onto her back—and ran.
------------------------------------------------------
The ruins of Vael'Tharas stretched before her, a labyrinth of shattered temples and collapsed towers.
Voss sprinted across the broken stone, her lungs burning.
Behind her—the knight followed.
Not running.
Walking.
And yet—somehow—he was gaining.
She vaulted over a fallen pillar, ducking through a broken archway.
The air grew colder.
Shadows moved.
Something whispered in her ear—but she ignored it.
She had no time for the voices.
Voss rounded a corner—
And stopped.
A dead end.
No.
Her gaze flicked upward. A ruined bridge.
A drop below—too far to jump.
The knight's steps echoed behind her.
She turned slowly, heart pounding.
Trapped.
The knight stopped a few feet away, watching her.
Studying her.
"You have his power," he murmured.
Voss's fingers tightened into fists.
Whose power?
The knight lifted his sword—but did not strike.
Instead, he did something far worse.
He removed his helmet.
Voss's breath caught in her throat.
Beneath the iron mask was a face she knew.
A face that should not exist.
A face that had been dead for years.
Her voice was barely a whisper.
"...No."
The knight's cold blue eyes did not blink.
"Voss," he said again, softer this time.
"Come with me."
---
Drakonix's Descent
The sky shattered.
A roar like an earthquake.
Then—
Flames.
Blue fire rained from the heavens, striking the ruins with explosive force.
Voss threw herself to the ground, shielding Soren.
The heat seared her skin—but she did not burn.
When she looked up—
Drakonix was descending.
His wings spread wide, blotting out the sky.
His eyes, burning silver, locked onto the knight.
And for the first time—
The knight stepped back.
Voss saw the flicker of recognition in his eyes.
And then, just before Drakonix landed—
The knight vanished into the shadows.
---
The storm above faded.
Drakonix stood before her, his scales gleaming like liquid obsidian.
His massive head lowered, nostrils flaring as he took in her scent.
Then, in a voice deep as the abyss, he spoke:
"You are not ready."
Voss could barely breathe.
She looked at the spot where the knight had disappeared.
Her hands were shaking.
He had known her name.
He had known her face.
And worse—
She had known his.