As the moonlight filtered through the dense canopy above, Aren and Kiran walked side by side through the forest. The earlier tension had melted into something more comfortable, and though Kiran still carried his usual air of mischief, he seemed more subdued now, as if the serenity of the clearing had affected even him.
Aren kicked at a small stone on the path, sending it skittering into the underbrush. "Do you always hang out in places like this? Hidden clearings and secret spots?"
Kiran shrugged, his steps fluid and unhurried. "Not always. But I find places like that useful. Peaceful, even."
"Peaceful," Aren repeated, glancing at Kiran with a raised eyebrow. "That's not the word I'd associate with you."
Kiran smirked, his crimson eyes glinting in the faint light. "Perhaps you don't know me as well as you think, Aren."
"Or maybe I know you better than you want me to," Aren shot back, a rare spark of playfulness in his tone.
Kiran chuckled, the sound low and musical. "Touché."
Their conversation was interrupted by a faint rustling in the trees. Aren slowed, his senses prickling. "Did you hear that?"
Kiran stopped, his posture shifting subtly. His head tilted slightly, and his eyes narrowed as he scanned the shadows. "I hear everything," he murmured, his voice low. His casual demeanor hadn't entirely faded, but there was a new sharpness in his gaze—a predator's alertness.
Before Aren could say another word, three figures materialized in front of them, appearing in a blur of motion that rivaled Kiran's speed. They stood with a confidence that hinted at their power, their stances rigid yet graceful, like coiled springs ready to strike.
Two of them bore an uncanny resemblance to Kiran. Their white hair shimmered in the moonlight, cascading over their shoulders like silk. The first, taller and more muscular, had a face that was stern and angular, his jaw set in a way that spoke of authority. The second was leaner, his features more delicate, though his sharp eyes betrayed a cunning intelligence. Both shared the same pale, flawless skin and those unnervingly luminous crimson eyes.
The third figure was different. He was shorter than the brothers, with cropped, dark hair and a mischievous grin that seemed permanently etched on his face. His sharp features gave him an impish look, but there was an intensity in his stance, a barely restrained energy that suggested he could be just as dangerous as the others.
"Thank goodness we found you," the taller of Kiran's brothers said, his voice deep and commanding. His eyes flicked between Kiran and Aren, lingering on the latter for a moment. "We don't have much time."
Kiran's smirk returned, though it was more subdued than usual. "Hello to you too, Rhael. No 'how have you been,' no 'it's been ages'? Honestly, your manners are slipping."
Rhael glared at him, his patience clearly thin. "Kiran, this isn't the time for your games."
The leaner brother, who had been studying Aren with open curiosity, cut in. "Is that him?" he asked, his voice quieter but laced with intrigue. He gestured vaguely toward Aren, who bristled under the scrutiny.
"Yes, that's Aren," Kiran replied breezily, his crimson eyes flicking to his brother. "Now, are you going to explain why you're crashing my evening stroll, or should I guess?"
The dark-haired figure stepped forward, his grin widening. "We came to warn you," he said, his tone light despite the urgency in his eyes. "Or rather, warn him." He pointed at Aren, whose frown deepened.
"Warn me about what?" Aren asked, his voice steady despite the unease creeping into his chest.
"The old man," Rhael said sharply, cutting through the banter. His expression turned grim as he looked at Aren. "Your home is under attack. He's being surrounded as we speak."
Aren felt his stomach drop. "What?" His voice rose with alarm, his hands balling into fists. "What are you talking about? Who's attacking him?"
"We don't know," Rhael admitted, his gaze steady. "But they're not ordinary foes. Whoever they are, they've masked their presence well enough to evade even our senses. We only found out because we were tracking unusual movements near the area."
Kiran's smirk faded entirely, replaced by a cold, calculating expression. His posture straightened, and his usual air of detached amusement vanished. "And you didn't think to stop them yourselves?" he asked, his tone sharp.
"We would've," the leaner brother replied, his voice defensive. "But the old man—he's... not exactly easy to help. You know how he is."
Kiran sighed, running a hand through his white hair. "Of course. Typical." He turned to Aren, his gaze steady. "Looks like our peaceful night just got a bit more exciting."
Aren's heart was racing, his mind spinning with a dozen questions, but he forced himself to focus. "We have to go," he said, his voice firm.
"Agreed," Kiran said, already stepping forward. He paused, glancing at his brothers and their companion. "You three—"
"We're coming too," Rhael interrupted, his tone brooking no argument. "We didn't track you down just to stand around."
Kiran smirked faintly, though there was no humor in it. "Fine. Try to keep up."
Without another word, he turned to Aren, his crimson eyes burning with determination. "Hold on, Aren. This is going to be fast."
Aren barely had time to process the words before Kiran grabbed his arm again, his grip firm but reassuring. The world blurred once more as they sped into the forest, the other three following close behind in a streak of pale and dark motion. The air around them was charged with tension, the gravity of the situation sinking in with every passing second.