Kael's knees dug into the earth, his head spinning as the mages around him began working quickly to dismantle the remnants of their ritual. He glanced around, trying to make sense of what was happening. The eerie glow of their hands faded as they erased the bloodied symbols etched into the ground, their movements calm and methodical. His eyes flitted over the scene until he saw it—something he hadn't noticed before.
The limp, lifeless bodies of several peasants lay crumpled near the edge of the clearing, partially obscured by the thick brush. Blood pooled beneath them, their eyes vacant, staring into nothingness. Kael's stomach churned violently, his breath catching in his throat. He hadn't seen them before, too distracted by the unnatural glow of the ritual and the terrifying presence of the mages. A wave of nausea hit him as he realized they had been here all along, perhaps victims of whatever dark magic had been performed.
His gaze snapped back to the mage in front of him, the one who had been barking orders and exerting such terrifying control over him. Slowly, the man raised his hands and pulled back the hood of his black robe. Kael's eyes widened as the man's face was revealed in the dim light of the moon.
The mage had a massive scar running across both eyes, jagged and brutal, as though someone had slashed him with a blade. His eyes were completely white, milky and unseeing. Kael's breath hitched. He's blind… How had the man been able to see him? The thought of asking flickered through Kael's mind, but fear sealed his lips.
The mage's scarred face twisted into a rough grin. "What's the matter, boy?" he rasped, his voice gravelly and harsh. "Cat got your tongue?"
Kael swallowed hard, his throat dry. His fear had locked him in place, every muscle frozen. But as the mage leaned closer, Kael managed to force out a trembling whisper. "W-what do you want from me?"
The mage's chuckle was low and grating, sending a shiver down Kael's spine. "Don't worry about that just yet. We'll get to it soon enough." He leaned down, his voice dropping to a threatening murmur. "Why don't you be a good boy and lead us to your family? Or better yet... your village."
Kael's blood ran cold. His village. His family. He felt his entire body seize up with terror. His heart pounded so hard it felt like it might burst from his chest, but he was unable to move, trapped in the overwhelming pressure that held him in place.
The mage grinned down at him, waiting for Kael to respond, but the only sound that came from Kael's lips was a shuddering breath. He couldn't let them go to Eldenwood. He couldn't let them hurt his family.
He summoned every ounce of willpower he had and forced his head to move, just enough to lift his gaze and glare at the mage. The effort cost him dearly, his muscles screaming in protest, but it was all he could manage—a small, defiant gesture. But the response came swiftly and brutally.
The mage's grin vanished in an instant, replaced by a flash of anger. Without warning, the man's hand lashed out, striking Kael across the face with such force that his head whipped to the side, his face slamming into the dirt. Pain exploded in his cheek, and the world spun wildly around him. He tasted blood in his mouth and coughed weakly, tears stinging his eyes as he gasped for breath.
"Don't you dare defy me, boy!" the mage barked, his voice booming with fury. "You'll do as you're told, or I'll make you regret ever being born."
Kael trembled, the pain in his cheek radiating through his skull. His body shook uncontrollably as sobs racked his chest. He wanted to fight, to do something, anything, but the mage's power was overwhelming. Every part of him ached, and his spirit felt crushed beneath the weight of fear and helplessness.
"No…" Kael whimpered through his tears, his voice cracking. "I won't… I won't let my family come to danger."
The words spilled out of him, shaky and frail, but there was a determination behind them that surprised even him. He couldn't let these monsters hurt the people he loved, no matter how powerless he felt. He had to do something, even if he didn't know what.
The mage's eyes narrowed, the scar across his face twitching as if in irritation. Just as he was about to speak, another figure emerged from the darkness. One of the other robed mages approached swiftly, his footsteps silent on the forest floor. He leaned in to whisper in the eighth mage's ear, though his words were clearly meant to be heard.
"We've found the nearby village," the new arrival said, his voice calm and unbothered by the tension in the air. "It's called Eldenwood. Most likely where the boy came from."
Kael's heart stopped. They'd found his home.
The eighth mage's lips curled into a wicked grin, his scarred face looming over Kael. "Seems we won't need you to lead the way after all," he sneered. "We already know exactly where to go."
Kael's world crashed around him, the weight of what was about to happen suffocating him.