Mountain

For a while, everyone was silent.

Until his mom asked, "How do you even know this? Did someone tell you?"

"I just know, alright? I wouldn't lie about something like this," he retorted, his voice shaky.

"Where are we going, then?" asked Mira curiously. "The closest village is at least a day of horse riding away…"

"That's right, which is why we're not going to another village. We'll hide in a safe house in the forest for a few days. Or rather… you three will hide."

Antalon, ever so sharp, picked up on the hidden truth behind his brother's words instantly.

"You're not coming with us? Why? Don't tell me you're planning on sacrificing yourself or something?!" he shouted.

"You're right, I'm not going with you. But I'm not sacrificing myself either. Don't worry, I'm not some type of hero or anything… I just have unfinished business," said the elder brother, his voice dropping.

Their mother, worried but trusting, answered softly, "I believe in you, Vael. Just don't get hurt, alright?"

With that, they each went their separate ways to pack.

As Vael reached his own room, a flood of nostalgia hit him at once. The place he had grown up in was untouched. It felt like he hadn't been here in eons.

His room, composed of a simple bed and wooden wardrobe, wasn't anything fancy. There wasn't much to pack anyway — he wouldn't need much for where he was going.

"I have to go back there," Vael thought. "Back to that damn lab. I have to get awakened again, I need to get my rapier… and most importantly, I need to kill those two bastards. Veltren. Smith."

"I don't care how much pain they put me through. I've been through it once before. But if it's the last thing I do, those two dickheads will die by my blade."

With that, he left his room — his heart a little lighter, but his will more unshakable than ever.

When everyone had assembled, the clock struck midnight. They quietly left the village on foot, sparse belongings packed in bags on their backs.

Their destination was high up the cold mountain: a small cabin, once used by passing adventurers, tucked into a hidden corner of the dense forest. It still had supplies, and enough food to last a few people for a few weeks.

No one spoke during the hike up the mountain, each lost in their own thoughts.

Suddenly, an arrow made of pure darkness shot out from the dense canopy. Vael almost didn't sense it — but managed to dodge at the last second.

His abrupt movement caught the attention of his family, who quickly noticed the arrow buried in the dirt in front of them.

"Tsk. An Echo. Great," muttered Vael.

An Echo — a Stage One beast that could copy the anatomy and abilities of any living being it defeated. This one had clearly taken down a member of an adventuring party that had passed through the region.

Unsheathing his dagger — which now felt oddly small in his grasp — Vael ordered, "Stand back. But be careful. There might be more of them."

His family didn't need to be told twice. They gave him space.

Without wasting a second, Vael darted forward.

The archer Echo, perched in the trees, held the high ground. Combined with the fact that it was nearly invisible in the dark, it made for a formidable opponent.

Using the first shot as a reference, Vael sprinted to the base of the nearest tree and began to climb. As he reached the branches, a second arrow flew from another angle. He leapt sideways to avoid it, but it grazed his thigh.

Almost instantly, he felt poison flooding his veins.

"Poison affinity… damn it," he thought. "That's going to be annoying."

Gritting his teeth, he continued jumping between branches, dodging another arrow by a hair's breadth.

And then he found it.

He appeared silently behind the shadowy figure, dagger pointed at its neck, exhausted but determined.

But before he could strike, he noticed where the Echo's bow was aimed —

His family.

Down below, his mother stood protectively in front of Mira and Antalon, shielding them with her body.

"No… N—!"

The arrow left the bow the moment Vael slit the creature's throat.

It all happened in the same breath.

The arrow whistled through the trees and —

Impaled his mother's head.