Gabriel soared above the frost-covered lands, his wings moving silently as he glided through the cold air. The sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of amber and crimson. Below, the rolling forests stretched endlessly, their dense canopy speckled with snow. The beauty of the world didn't distract him; his thoughts were heavy, his pale eyes fixed on the horizon.
He had promised Bjorn he would return swiftly, but this journey was more than just a reconnaissance mission. Something about the barbarian horde unsettled him. It wasn't their numbers, their brutality, or even their speed—it was something deeper, something darker. Gabriel couldn't quite place it, but the unease lingered, gnawing at the edge of his mind.
The wind tugged at his robes, but Gabriel didn't falter. As he flew, he replayed the scouts' reports in his mind. Tens of thousands of barbarians, moving faster than expected, bolstered by reinforcements. It was a formidable force, but there was something more, something the scouts couldn't have seen. Gabriel had felt it even before leaving the village—a faint, ominous presence, like a shadow cast over the land.
"This energy…" Gabriel muttered to himself, his voice barely audible against the rushing wind. It was unfamiliar yet unmistakable. It felt like the opposite of everything he was a force not of light but of darkness, not of creation but destruction. It made the hairs on the back of his neck rise, not out of fear but out of caution. Whatever this force was, it demanded his attention.
Gabriel's hands clenched slightly at his sides. He had no intention of revealing his full strength unless it was absolutely necessary. If this presence was as dangerous as he suspected, staying passive and observant would be his best strategy for now.
In just a few minutes, Gabriel arrived at his destination, a task that would have taken the barbarian horde three days to accomplish on foot. Below him, the sprawling barbarian encampment came into view. Gabriel ascended higher, ensuring he was invisible to the naked eye as he surveyed the scene. His heightened senses allowed him to see everything with crystal clarity.
The camp was enormous, stretching across a clearing in the forest like a scar on the landscape. Fires burned in scattered circles, their smoke rising into the cold evening air. Tents of animal hides and crude cloth formed makeshift homes, and the barbarian warriors moved about with purpose. Their guttural voices carried faintly up to Gabriel, though he couldn't make out the words. There was an order to their chaos—a grim efficiency that spoke of experience and leadership.
Gabriel's eyes narrowed. This wasn't just a mindless horde of raiders. The coordination, the reinforcements, the speed—it all pointed to something larger. Someone, or something, was guiding them.
As Gabriel scanned the camp, his gaze fell on one figure that immediately stood out. Near the center of the encampment, a man sat on a large, crude throne made of bones and wood. His presence was suffocating, even from this height. Shrouded in a faint aura of black energy, the man exuded an unnatural power. Gabriel's ethereal senses bristled; this was the source of the unease he had felt.
The man was enormous, his muscles corded like steel and his face twisted into a permanent scowl. He wore a patchwork of armor, some pieces taken from fallen enemies and others crudely forged. His eyes glowed faintly red, a stark contrast to the deep black energy that surrounded him like a shroud.
Gabriel watched him closely. The man's mere presence seemed to influence the others. Barbarians who passed near him straightened their backs and lowered their heads, as if in reverence—or fear. This wasn't an ordinary leader; this was someone, or something, far more dangerous.
"Who are you?" Gabriel murmured to himself, his gaze fixed on the man. "And what is that power?"
The black energy was unlike anything Gabriel had encountered in this world so far. It was chaotic, oppressive, and void of light. It pulsed faintly, as if alive, and it seemed to draw strength from the chaos of the camp. Gabriel's instincts told him to remain hidden. Engaging this figure without understanding the nature of his power could be reckless.
"This world…" Gabriel thought, his mind racing. "It holds more than I expected."
For hours, Gabriel remained in the skies, circling the encampment at a safe distance. He observed everything—the structure of the camp, the number of warriors, and the movements of the black-shrouded man. His patience was unwavering, his mind focused on gathering as much information as possible without drawing attention to himself.
He noted the discipline of the horde. Groups of barbarians moved in organized patterns, practicing drills and sharpening weapons. Others tended to massive siege engines—catapults and battering rams that were crudely built but undeniably effective. It was clear they weren't just preparing for battle; they were preparing for conquest.
Gabriel's unease deepened. The influence of the black-shrouded man was undeniable. He wasn't just a leader; he was a focal point of power, one that drove the horde to new levels of cohesion and strength.
"I must understand him," Gabriel thought. "But not yet."
He decided to remain passive for now, hiding his true potential until he understood the nature of this enemy. If this man's power was as dangerous as it appeared, revealing his hand too soon could place the village—and himself—in greater danger.
While Gabriel observed the horde, the mood in Bjorn's village was tense. Night had fallen, and the villagers were finishing their preparations for the day. Inside the main hall, Astrid, Liv, and Eira sat near the hearth, their faces illuminated by the flickering firelight.
Liv sighed, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. "Do you think Gabriel is all right?" she asked, her voice soft but tinged with worry. "He's been gone for hours."
Eira rolled her eyes, though her tone was playful. "Liv, he's not a child. Gabriel's probably more than fine. If anything, it's the barbarians who should be worried."
Astrid, seated across from them, smirked faintly. "She's right, Liv. No one in this world can stop him. You've seen what he can do."
Liv glanced at her sisters, her expression conflicted. "I know, but… he's not invincible. What if something out there is stronger?"
Astrid's smirk faded slightly, her blue eyes reflecting the firelight. "Then he'll deal with it. Gabriel isn't reckless. He knows what he's doing."
Eira leaned back, stretching her arms over her head. "If you ask me, Liv, you just want an excuse to fuss over him. Admit it—you're worried because you like him."
Liv's cheeks turned pink, and she quickly looked away. "I-I'm just concerned. That's all."
Astrid shook her head, though a small smile tugged at her lips. "You're hopeless, Eira."
The three of them fell into a comfortable silence, the crackling of the fire filling the room. Despite their teasing, all three sisters felt the weight of Gabriel's absence. He had become an integral part of their lives in such a short time, and his presence had a way of easing the tension that now lingered in the air.
Back in the skies above the barbarian camp, Gabriel remained steadfast. His watchful eyes never left the black-shrouded man, and his mind worked tirelessly to piece together the puzzle of this strange power. He didn't know what lay ahead, but one thing was certain this was only the beginning.
As the stars began to fade and the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, Gabriel turned back toward the village.