The night air was thick with tension as Lucian stood, his sword leveled at the guard before him. The man's silence was unsettling, and his evasive gaze only heightened Lucian's suspicion. The moonlight cast long shadows across the forest floor, and for a moment, it felt as though the entire world held its breath, waiting for what would happen next.
"Speak," Lucian demanded, his voice cold. "What were you doing out here?"
The guard swallowed nervously, his eyes flicking toward the trees as if searching for an escape. "I-I was patrolling, my lord. I heard something and followed it into the forest."
Lucian's grip on his sword tightened. "A likely story, but your shift ended hours ago. Why are you still on patrol?"
The guard shifted on his feet, the flicker of guilt crossing his face too quick to hide. "I… I was just being cautious, my lord. With all that's happened lately, I thought it best to keep an extra watch."
Lucian wasn't convinced. The explanation seemed too convenient, too rehearsed. Something about the man's demeanor was off, and Lucian couldn't shake the feeling that he was hiding something.
He stepped closer, lowering his sword but keeping his eyes fixed on the guard's face. "Cautious, or curious?" Lucian asked, his tone cutting. "You were following someone, weren't you? Who was it?"
The guard stiffened, and for a moment, Lucian saw panic flash across his face. He had hit a nerve.
"I—I don't know what you mean, my lord," the guard stammered, his voice unsteady.
Lucian's patience was wearing thin. He sheathed his sword and grabbed the guard by the collar, pulling him closer. "Listen to me carefully," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I know something's going on, and I know you're involved. If you don't start telling the truth right now, I'll drag you back to the dungeons myself and make sure you never see the light of day again."
The guard's eyes widened in fear, and for a moment, it seemed as though he might confess. But then, something unexpected happened.
A loud crack echoed through the forest, followed by a sharp whistling sound. Lucian barely had time to react before the guard slumped forward in his grasp, a small dart protruding from his neck. Lucian dropped him and spun around, his eyes scanning the darkness for the source of the attack.
But there was nothing. No movement, no sound—just the eerie stillness of the forest.
Lucian knelt beside the guard, checking his pulse. He was still alive, but unconscious. The dart had likely been tipped with a sleeping agent, which meant whoever had fired it hadn't intended to kill him. They wanted to silence him.
Someone was watching, and they were close.
Lucian's mind raced as he considered his options. He could stay and try to track down the assailant, but the chances of finding them in the dense forest were slim. Whoever had fired the dart was skilled, and they wouldn't make the mistake of sticking around.
With a frustrated growl, Lucian hoisted the unconscious guard over his shoulder and began making his way back to the estate. This was a calculated move—a warning. Someone didn't want the guard talking, and they had acted quickly to prevent it.
As he carried the guard through the trees, Lucian's thoughts turned dark. The Shadow Hand's presence was becoming more tangible with every passing day. This attack confirmed what he had feared—they were being watched. Every step they took was under scrutiny, and the traitor was still among them, biding their time and covering their tracks.
---
The next morning, the estate was abuzz with activity as word of the night's events spread. Lucian had placed the guard in the infirmary, but there was no telling when—or if—he would wake up. The healers were doing their best, but the sleeping agent in the dart was unlike anything they had encountered before. It was potent, dark magic.
Lucian sat in the grand hall, his mind racing as he tried to piece together the events of the previous night. Elara and Seraphina sat across from him, both looking equally troubled.
"This wasn't just a coincidence," Elara said, her voice tense. "Someone knew you were questioning that guard. They acted fast to stop him from talking."
Seraphina nodded in agreement. "The Shadow Hand must have agents watching us at all times. They're more deeply entrenched in the estate than we thought."
Lucian leaned forward, his hands clasped tightly together. "That's what worries me. We've been too focused on the Raiders, but the real threat is right here, under our noses. The Shadow Hand is pulling the strings, and we're still no closer to uncovering who's behind it."
Elara frowned, her gaze thoughtful. "What about the guard? Do you think he knows more than he let on?"
Lucian hesitated, then nodded. "He was hiding something, that much is clear. But whoever's controlling him is powerful. They silenced him before he could say anything. If we can find a way to wake him up, he might be our only chance at getting real answers."
Seraphina leaned back in her chair, her expression grim. "And if we can't wake him?"
"Then we'll have to find another way," Lucian said. "The Shadow Hand's magic is strong, but it's not infallible. There's always a way to break through."
Elara stood, pacing the room as she thought. "The archives might have more information on the Shadow Hand's methods. We barely scratched the surface last time. There could be something in the older records—something that tells us how to counter their magic."
Lucian nodded, standing up as well. "It's worth a shot. We don't have any other leads right now. We'll head back to the archives and see what we can find."
As they made their way to the estate's underground archives, Lucian couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. The weight of the Shadow Hand's influence pressed down on him, and the silence in the air felt oppressive. They were running out of time.
---
The archives were as dim and foreboding as ever, the dust swirling in the torchlight as Lucian and Elara sifted through the ancient tomes. Seraphina, ever alert, stood watch at the entrance, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword.
Lucian's eyes scanned the brittle pages of an old journal, written by one of his ancestors centuries ago. It detailed encounters with dark magic users, battles fought against those who sought to manipulate the kingdom from the shadows. But nothing about the Shadow Hand.
Elara, meanwhile, was flipping through another volume, her brow furrowed in concentration. "There's something here," she said suddenly, her voice drawing Lucian's attention.
He moved to her side, looking over her shoulder. The page she had found was covered in strange symbols, similar to the ones they had seen in the dungeons. But these were accompanied by text, a description of a ritual used to break magical bindings—bindings that controlled a person's mind.
"This could be it," Lucian said, hope flickering in his chest. "If the guard is under some kind of spell, this ritual might be able to break it."
Elara nodded, her eyes lighting up with determination. "We'll need to gather the materials, but it's doable. We can try it on the guard and see if it works."
Lucian felt a surge of adrenaline as they made their plan. This was their chance—perhaps their only chance—to break through the Shadow Hand's control and finally uncover the traitor in their midst.
But even as they prepared for the ritual, a gnawing sense of dread lingered in Lucian's mind. The Shadow Hand was cunning, and if they were already aware of his investigation, they wouldn't let him get this far without interference.
The real question was: Would they be able to uncover the truth before the Shadow Hand made its next move?