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Chapter 3 - Chapter 3: The Bastion of Morvath

The windowpane was cold against my fingertips as I leaned against it, gazing out at the expanse of Morvath's Vigil. The fortress, though old and worn, was a testament to an era of unity and power long gone. Built at the convergence of Human, Elven, and Dwarven ingenuity, it stood as a guardian against the terrors that lurked beyond its walls.

This was no ordinary stronghold.

During the Age of Sovereigns, when primordial monsters roamed Aetherion unchecked, a great calamity had emerged: an ancient dragon unlike any other. It was no ordinary wyrm or one of the draconic beings that still slumbered across the world. This dragon was a primordial force of destruction, corrupted by a power as old as the world itself.

Even the dragons, who once viewed themselves as rulers of the skies, land, and seas, could not abide its presence. They joined forces with the other races—Humans, Elves, Dwarves, and even Beastfolk. Together, they constructed bastions like this one to repel its devastating incursions.

The battle that sealed the fate of the corrupted dragon was waged here, at Morvath's Vigil. The runes of the Elves etched into the walls still pulsed faintly with the residue of their magic. The stonework bore the hallmarks of Dwarven precision, its resilience unmatched even by centuries of wear. Human ingenuity had brought it all together, creating a beacon of hope in the darkness.

Now, it was a shadow of what it once was—a relic.

And I, Kael Thorne, was its newest prisoner.

---

A dull ache throbbed through my side, a reminder of the monster I had fought earlier in the day. The attack had come suddenly—a pack of corrupted beasts breaching the forest to the north. The soldiers stationed here had responded quickly, and I, foolishly or perhaps desperately, had thrown myself into the fray.

I had survived. Barely.

The fortress, for all its history, was not just a ruin. It was still active, a bulwark against the monsters that threatened this region. My family had claimed it generations ago, assigning a detachment of guards and a minimal garrison to keep the monsters at bay.

It was here that I had been sent, under the guise of punishment.

---

The sound of footsteps broke me from my thoughts. I turned to see a figure enter the room—a woman in simple but neat attire. Her dark hair was tied back, framing a kind face that looked out of place amidst the cold stone walls.

"Kael," she said softly, her voice carrying a warmth that reminded me of home. "You shouldn't be standing for too long. You're still injured."

I smiled faintly. "I'm fine, Liana."

Liana. The only person left who seemed to care about me.

She wasn't mentioned in the novel—no, she existed only in my memories. A maid, once a beggar in the slums of the capital. I had found her years ago, cold and starving, and taken her in against my father's wishes.

She had been grateful, but it wasn't just gratitude that bound her to me. Over the years, she had become like a sister, her unwavering kindness and quiet strength standing out in a household that had long since turned its back on me. Even when I was labeled a failure, even when I was accused and exiled, Liana had never doubted me.

"I heard from the guards that you fought a warg," she continued, moving closer to adjust the blanket draped over my shoulders. "Kael, what were you thinking? You could have died."

I chuckled, though the effort made my ribs ache. "If I had, I wouldn't have to worry about this punishment anymore, would I?"

Her eyes narrowed, and she swatted my arm lightly. "Don't joke about that."

"All right, all right," I said, raising my hands in mock surrender. "I'll be more careful next time."

She sighed, but her expression softened. "You'd better be."

---

Before I could reply, there was a knock at the door. Liana turned to open it, revealing an older man with a weathered face and a kind but stern demeanor.

"Lord Kael," the doctor said with a nod, stepping into the room. "I've come to check on your injuries."

Liana stepped aside, giving the man room to work. He approached me with a practiced efficiency, his hands glowing faintly with mana as he began his examination.

"You're lucky," he said after a moment. "The claw marks weren't deep, and the infection hasn't set in. But you'll need to rest for at least a week."

"I don't have time to rest," I replied, wincing as he applied a salve to the wounds on my chest.

"You'll make time," Liana interjected, her tone leaving no room for argument. "You're no use to anyone if you push yourself too hard."

I sighed but nodded.

---

As the doctor continued his work, my mind wandered. The battle earlier had been a stark reminder of my current reality. I was no longer the carefree young man of my previous life. This was a world of danger, where even the smallest mistake could mean death.

But it was also a world of wonder, a place where mana flowed like rivers and where the races of Aetherion had built civilizations that defied imagination.

The Human Federation, to which my family belonged, was a patchwork of noble houses and territories bound together under a council of the most powerful families. It was a fragile alliance, one held together by the shared need to combat external threats. My family, House Thorne, was one of the Seven Great Houses, its influence rooted in its history of military strategy and magical prowess.

The Elves, meanwhile, were a people of grace and mystery. Their connection to mana was unparalleled, their magic an art form as much as a weapon. The High Elves, the ruling caste, were said to be immortal, their wisdom unmatched. They resided in the Evergrove, a sprawling forest where the trees themselves pulsed with life.

The Dwarves were masters of craftsmanship, their cities carved into the hearts of mountains. Their machines, powered by mana and steam, were marvels of engineering, capable of feats that even magic could not achieve.

The Beastfolk, scattered across the wilds of Aetherion, were a diverse and resilient people. Their strength was legendary, their bond with nature unbreakable.

And then there was the council, a gathering of representatives from each race, tasked with maintaining balance in a world teetering on the brink of chaos.

---

Aetherion was vast and complex, its beauty matched only by its dangers. And I, Kael Thorne, was caught in the middle of it all.

I didn't know what the future held, but one thing was certain: I would not let this world—or my fate—consume me.