Echoes of the Past

The forest was quiet, the only sounds the rustling of leaves and the occasional call of a distant bird. Darius sat by the fire, staring into the flames as he absently poked at it with a stick. Lira was across from him, her staff resting across her knees, her gaze distant. The events of the day weighed heavily on both of them, but neither seemed willing to break the silence.

Finally, Darius spoke. "You said you've helped people like me before. What happened to them?"

Lira didn't answer right away. She stared into the fire, her expression unreadable. For a moment, Darius thought she might not answer at all. Then she sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly.

"Some of them succeeded," she said quietly. "They learned to control the system, to use its power without being consumed by it. Others… didn't."

Darius frowned. "What happened to the ones who didn't?"

Lira's grip tightened on her staff. "They became monsters. Worse than the creatures in the Spire. And I had to stop them."

Darius's stomach churned. He didn't know what to say. The weight of her words settled over him like a heavy blanket. He knew the system was dangerous, but hearing it from her made it feel real in a way it hadn't before.

"I don't want to become a monster," he said quietly.

Lira looked at him, her green eyes piercing. "Then don't."

The fire crackled between them, the silence stretching on. Darius wanted to ask more, to press her for details, but something in her expression stopped him. There was pain there, hidden beneath the surface, and he wasn't sure he was ready to uncover it.

The next morning, they set out early, the forest still shrouded in mist. Lira led the way, her staff lighting the path as they walked. Darius followed close behind, his mind still buzzing with questions.

As they walked, Lira began to speak, her voice low and measured. "I wasn't always like this," she said. "I used to be… different."

Darius glanced at her, curious. "Different how?"

Lira hesitated, as if weighing how much to tell him. "I was a healer," she said finally. "I lived in a small village, far from here. I spent my days tending to the sick and injured, using my magic to help people. It was a simple life, but it was mine."

Darius frowned. "What happened?"

Lira's expression darkened. "The system happened. It came to our village, offering power to those who were willing to embrace chaos. At first, people resisted. But then the attacks started—bandits, monsters, things we couldn't fight on our own. The system promised to protect us, to give us the power we needed to survive. And people believed it."

Darius's stomach sank. He could see where this was going. "They took the deal."

Lira nodded. "One by one, they fell. My friends, my family… they all embraced the system. And at first, it seemed like a miracle. They were stronger, faster, able to protect the village from anything. But then… they started to change."

"Change how?" Darius asked, though he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

Lira's grip tightened on her staff. "They became cruel, ruthless. They stopped caring about the village, about the people they were supposed to protect. All they cared about was power—more power, no matter the cost. And when I tried to stop them… they turned on me."

Darius stared at her, his heart aching. "What did you do?"

Lira's eyes were hard, her voice steady. "I did what I had to do. I stopped them. And then I left."

The silence that followed was heavy, the weight of her words hanging in the air. Darius didn't know what to say. He wanted to comfort her, to tell her she'd done the right thing, but the words felt hollow. Instead, he simply nodded.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

Lira didn't respond. She just kept walking, her gaze fixed on the path ahead.

As they continued through the forest, Darius's Chaos Sense began to tingle. He frowned, glancing around. "Do you feel that?"

Lira nodded, her expression grim. "We're being followed."

Before Darius could respond, a figure stepped out of the shadows. It was a man, tall and broad-shouldered, with a scar running down the side of his face. In his hand was a massive axe, its blade gleaming in the dim light.

"Well, well," the man said, his voice rough and mocking. "If it isn't Lira. I was wondering when I'd run into you again."

Lira's grip tightened on her staff, her eyes narrowing. "Dravos."

Darius's heart skipped a beat. He recognized the name—Lira had mentioned it before. This was the man who had fully embraced the system, the one she had warned him about.

Dravos grinned, his teeth gleaming in the dim light. "You've been busy, I see. Collecting strays now, are we?"

Lira didn't respond. She just raised her staff, her expression cold. "What do you want, Dravos?"

Dravos chuckled, his gaze shifting to Darius. "I heard there was a new apostle in town. Thought I'd come see for myself."

Darius's stomach churned. He could feel the power radiating off Dravos, a dark, oppressive force that made his skin crawl. This man was dangerous—more dangerous than anything he'd faced so far.

Lira stepped in front of Darius, her staff glowing brighter. "You're not taking him."

Dravos's grin widened. "We'll see about that."