Dawn broke over the village, casting long fingers of light across the scorched earth and jagged remnants of battle. The smoke had thinned to a gray smudge on the horizon, but the stench of it still clung to the air. I stood on the threshold of the village square, staring at the charred beams of a collapsed cottage, the events of the night replaying in my mind.
The way I had fought, the way the runes on my blade had blazed with power—it all felt surreal, like a story from a life I hadn't yet lived. But beneath the awe and confusion lay a gnawing unease. Where had that strength come from? And why did it feel both foreign and familiar?
"Aric." Lyra's voice pulled me back to the present. She approached with a quiet intensity, the early light casting a warm glow on the weariness etched into her features. Her movements were swift but restrained, as if carrying an unspoken weight. Behind her, Krael directed a group of villagers to reinforce the outer barricades, his eyes sharp with focus but tinged with wariness when they glanced my way.
"Lyra," I acknowledged, shifting my stance as she stopped beside me. The question in her eyes was as clear as the morning sky.
"How did you do it?" she asked, voice low. "The way you fought that Juggernaut—your speed, the power—it wasn't... normal."
I took a deep breath, fingers brushing the pendant under my tunic. It had cooled overnight, but I could still feel its presence, a constant reminder that whatever had awakened within me was tied to my past. "I don't know," I admitted. "It felt like instinct, like something buried deep woke up when I needed it most."
Her gaze flicked to the sword at my side, now sheathed but still heavy with unanswered questions. "And the runes? That glow... I've never seen anything like it."
Before I could answer, Lyra crossed her arms, eyes narrowing in thought. She looked over her shoulder, checking that Krael was still preoccupied. "And that man from last night... do you think he was testing you?" Her words carried a weight I didn't quite understand, as though they hinted at a story I wasn't part of yet.
"I don't know," I said again, frustration sharpening the edge of my voice. "He saved me when I first woke up in the forest, but now he shows up here, speaking in riddles and warnings. If he's watching us, it could mean anything."
Lyra's expression darkened, her jaw tightening. "If he knows who you are, he might not be acting alone," she said, her voice so quiet I almost missed it.
I blinked, caught off guard. "Acting alone? Who else would be involved? Who are we talking about, Lyra?"
She glanced away, a shadow crossing her face as if she was battling with herself. When she met my eyes again, her expression was conflicted, but there was a flicker of resolve. "There are... people who know more about you than you think, Aric. People who have waited a long time for someone like you to return. But not all of them agree on what that should mean."
"People?" The word fell from my lips like a stone, and I could feel the gravity of it pulling at the edges of my understanding. "You mean there are others out there who know what I am? Who know what I don't?"
"Yes," she admitted, the word laced with a tension that sent a shiver through me. "But I need you to trust me when I say that knowing more right now could put you at greater risk. There are factions—some who would see you as a symbol of hope, and others who... have their own agendas."
The village around us felt distant, the sounds of repair and whispers fading as my mind tried to grasp what she was saying. "Lyra, if there are people out there who know who I am, who I was—why wouldn't you tell me sooner? Why keep me in the dark?"
She stepped closer, her eyes filled with something that bordered on desperation. "Because you're not ready, Aric. I don't say that lightly. You saw what happened last night; your power surged beyond your control, and if those watching sensed that—"
"They did sense it," I interrupted, the realization hitting me like a wave. "That's why he came. That man... he was a warning."
Lyra's silence was answer enough. She didn't need to say it; the look on her face confirmed my suspicion. I clenched my fists, anger simmering just beneath the surface. Anger not just at her for keeping this from me, but at myself for being so far behind in understanding.
Krael approached, his steps deliberate as he surveyed the two of us. His brow furrowed when he saw the tension etched across our faces. "The villagers are holding together, but they're wary, Aric. They saw how you fought, and they're starting to ask questions."
I forced myself to exhale, to calm the tumult inside me. "They have every right to ask," I said. "But until I know more, I can't give them answers."
Krael nodded slowly, his gaze shifting to Lyra, whose expression had turned guarded again. "Then we need to be ready for more visitors like the one last night," he said. "And we need to make sure you're prepared to face whatever comes next."
As he walked away to oversee the repairs, Lyra turned back to me, her voice softer this time. "I'm sorry, Aric. When the time is right, I'll tell you everything. But until then, trust me to guide you through this."
I met her eyes, searching for any hint of deception and finding none. Only resolve and a trace of something that felt like guilt. "I trust you," I said, though the words felt heavier than they should.
The sword at my side felt like a puzzle piece that didn't fit, and the pendant against my chest seemed to pulse with an unspoken promise. I would uncover the truth, even if it meant unearthing secrets that had been buried since the Shattering.
For now, I would wait. But not for long.