Moonlight filtered through the thick stone walls of the royal chambers, where King Varric and Queen Catelyn lay in quiet rest. A soft sigh escaped Catelyn's lips as she nuzzled closer to her husband's arm, only to be jolted awake as he began to snore deeply. She narrowed her eyes."Silencio," she murmured, conjuring a bubble around his mouth, stifling the sound.She smiled, closing her eyes as sleep reclaimed her.Across the castle, in his sparse quarters, Malachi sat cross-legged, eyes closed, encased in a deep meditative trance. His breathing slowed, his mind slipping beyond the castle's safety. In the silence, only a flickering candle cast light on his face, illuminating a faint sheen of sweat gathering on his brow. As the night wore on, a storm began brewing outside, mirroring the tempest building within Malachi's mind. Foresight was a rare gift in the Stag Order—one granted to precious few, and Malachi, selected for his abilities as a young squire, now bore its weight alone.Without warning, his vision clouded over, brightening, and then shifted into something dark and unfamiliar. Thunder crashed in his mind as he saw the Nebula region, a place left ravaged by war, desolate and storm-stricken. His focus drifted to a sinister tower on a nearby mountain, its jagged spires reaching high, each one adorned with the lifeless bodies of orcs, elves, humans, and fairies—remnants of various clans and realms, all hanging like twisted trophies.Malachi's heart clenched. He could feel an eerie presence lurking within the tower's walls, pulling his consciousness toward it.The scene shifted as he entered a shadowed chamber. Figures cloaked in black stood in a circle, their eyes hidden beneath hoods. In the center, a frail human boy trembled, his eyes wide with terror. One of the hooded figures stepped forward, his eyes gleaming with a dark, twisted power. The boy stumbled back, bumping into another hooded figure who shoved him forward without mercy. The lead figure threw back his hood, revealing a face marred by scars—one carved deep into his forehead, spelling a cruel brand: "STUPID ELF."Malachi's breath caught. This was Korin—the dark elf wanted across every realm after the massacre known as the "Death of the Crowns Incident," when twenty royals from distant kingdoms perished at his hand. Korin had long eluded capture, leaving destruction in his wake and darkening the once-vibrant land of Nebula with unending conflict. Now, here he was again, eyes ablaze, his scarred face twisted with hatred and hunger for chaos.Korin reached out, resting a hand on the boy's cheek, dark magic seeping from his fingers. The boy cried out, his screams piercing the quiet, as Korin's magic filled his mind with horrors, erasing any remaining innocence. The hooded figures around the circle clapped rhythmically, their applause a sickening beat against the boy's agony, while the storm outside grew fiercer, lightning tearing through the sky as if to echo the child's screams.Malachi's resolve hardened. Not this time. Calling on his own magic, he conjured an astral projection, flinging himself across the miles separating him from Nebula. His projection materialized before Korin, fists clenched, and with a fierce yell, he struck the dark elf across the jaw, sending him reeling.A stunned Korin stumbled, blood trickling from his lip. "You," he hissed.Malachi seized the boy, his projection weaving through the hooded figures as they lunged at him. He dodged left, phasing through one shadowy figure, evading another. He threw the boy into the air to gain speed, each step an act of desperation as he carried the child through a narrow window, out into the raging storm, and into the forest beyond.For hours, Malachi raced, his own mana steadily flowing into the boy to keep him alive as they ran from Korin's followers. Each footfall felt like a heartbeat, echoing his labored breaths and the child's gasps. Trees blurred, branches clawed at them, but he pressed on, slipping through darkness, Korin's presence seething and probing the edges of Malachi's mind.Finally, on the forest's outskirts, he spotted a family preparing to leave Nebula under the protection of mages from a distant kingdom. Malachi placed the boy in their care, explaining only what he must. The family, shocked but sympathetic, took the boy with solemn nods, casting wary glances back toward the foreboding woods.Malachi turned, only for his mind to crack under a sudden surge of darkness. Korin had found him.A storm of images tore through Malachi's consciousness—visions of death, bloodshed, and suffering flooded his senses. The tortured screams of civilians, warriors, and innocents filled his ears, every terrible memory clawing at his sanity. Korin's mocking laughter echoed in his mind as he loomed closer, savoring each torment."Little rabbit," Korin sneered, his words dripping with malice, "I finally caught you."Malachi watched in horror as Korin's form twisted, his mouth widening, stretching into an unnatural, grotesque grin before snapping open to swallow him whole. Pain ripped through him, as though Korin were stripping away his very soul. But a glimmer of light pushed back the darkness—a fiercely bright shield of flame that blazed between him and Korin. He gasped, and the shield grew stronger, his thoughts focusing on one image: Aedric, the young knight from the Order of the Golden Mane, a surprising beacon of hope.Abruptly, Malachi's eyes flew open. Aedric was standing in his quarters, watching with a furrowed brow, a hint of worry in his otherwise stoic expression."You...you were screaming," Aedric said. "I was...mildly concerned, Honor Guardsman."Malachi sat up slowly, wiping a cold sheen of sweat from his brow as he regained his breath. He saw a flicker of something unfamiliar in Aedric's gaze—a compassion rare for someone of the Golden Mane, an order built on valor, not empathy.After a moment, Malachi asked, voice stern but touched with gratitude, "What are you doing in my quarters, boy?"Aedric straightened, bowing his head. "You were in distress, sir. I thought it my duty to check on you. Are you well?"Malachi took a deep breath, momentarily letting the question settle. Then, hiding any weakness, he responded, "I am an Honor Guardsman. I do not...lose sleep."Bowing once more, Aedric stepped back, sensing dismissal, and left the room.The door barely had time to close before Sir Bill entered, panting as though he'd run a mile."Malachi, we have a situation," he said, voice tense. "The diplomats we sent to Nebula were found slaughtered, their heads missing. The King wants every knight commander and Honor Guard in the war chamber within fifteen minutes. Get dressed...and brush your teeth, for the love of the gods."The last part was a rare joke from Sir Bill, an attempt to inject levity into grim news. Malachi forced a thin smile but said nothing, his mind replaying Korin's threat."Korin," he murmured, his voice a growl of defiance. "You are a dead man."