"Any volunteers?"
The words hung in the air like a blade poised to drop. The tension snapped back into place, heavier than before.
Aelric was silent, his thoughts racing. General Corval Valoric's dismissive glare surfaced, a reminder of every time his voice had been dismissed as unworthy. Selene's scornful words echoed, her constant refrain that he was a boy playing at being a king.
He felt the weight of their stares now—not just his sister's and the general's, but those of the prisoners and captors alike. Their eyes burned with judgment, doubt, and faint glimmers of hope. A boy wearing a crown too heavy for his head.
He closed his eyes, and his father's voice echoed in his mind. A leader doesn't ask for trust, Aelric. He earns it by standing where others fear to tread. Show them the path, even if you must walk it alone.
When Aelric opened his eyes, his hands clenched into fists, he stepped forward. "I'll do it."
The cavern fell into stunned silence. Even Varik's mocking smirk faltered for a moment. Elysia's chains rattled as she turned sharply toward him, her steel-gray eyes wide with disbelief. "Are you insane?" she hissed. "You'll get yourself killed."
"And what kind of leader would I be," Aelric replied, his voice firm, "if I asked others to risk their lives for a plan I wasn't willing to follow myself?"
The prisoners exchanged stunned glances, their earlier skepticism beginning to shift into something else—respect, perhaps, or the faintest glimmer of trust. Even the burly man who had spoken against Aelric nodded grudgingly. "You've got guts, I'll give you that," he muttered.
Elysia looked as if she wanted to argue further, but something in Aelric's expression stopped her. She sighed, her chains clinking softly. "Then we'll make sure your stupid bravery doesn't get wasted."
Just as Aelric prepared to address the group again, something shifted inside him. A profound sensation washed over him—like the pieces of a puzzle clicking into place, forming a complete picture he hadn't known was missing. The air seemed to hum faintly, and a glowing, translucent window appeared before his eyes:
[You have acquired your nascent dominion]
[Skill Acquired]: Mark of Loyalty
You create a bond with those loyal to you.
For a moment, Aleric stared at the glowing words, his breath caught in his throat. Then elation surged through him like wildfire. At last, the confirmation he'd longed for: his Dominion had awakened.
Magic in Aurelen was divided into two realms. Most practitioners, those without a Dominion, could still ingest mana and climb the ranks: Lesser, Minor, Proven, Adept, Dominant, and Ascendant. Their power grew steadily, and they honed their skills with Arts. However, their growth was linear and limited.
Dominion wielders, however, were a league apart. They unlocked unique powers that grew alongside their understanding of their personal Dominion. The rare few who awakened were feared, revered, or both. Selene had awakened hers young, earning respect beyond her sixteen years.
Now, at last, he stood among them.
He turned his attention to the skill: Mark of Loyalty. The description was maddeningly vague, offering only a hint of its potential. What kind of bond? How strong? What does it do?
But the explanation was a welcome boon nonetheless.
Most people struggled to comprehend their newfound powers, groping in the dark for understanding. Yet, he received direct explanations.
"Are the messages I'm seeing part of my Dominion?" he muttered. But he quickly shook the thought off. The messages had been coming long before he acquired his ability.
Is it the crown? he wondered, his gaze drifting subtly toward Varik. The man sat apart from the group, the Crown of Conquest casually tucked beside him. Its dark steel glinted in the dim light, garnets flickering like embers. The crown was more than an heirloom; it was a symbol of his family's legacy and, perhaps, the key to these mysterious messages and returning home.
Aelric knew Varik wouldn't part with it willingly. Recovering the crown was essential—not just for his heritage, but possibly for understanding his unique connection to his Dominion.
Elysia's chains rattled softly as she stepped closer. "Are you all right?" she asked, her voice low.
He met her steel-gray eyes and offered a slight nod. "Better than ever."
Varik's derisive snort cut through the murmurs of the crowd. "So, the boy thinks he's a hero," he drawled. "This ought to be entertaining."
A tense silence settled over the group. The prisoners and captors alike seemed caught between fear and the faint hope that Aelric's plan might offer salvation.
The burly prisoner who had earlier challenged Aelric stepped forward. "Name's Duran," he grumbled. "I'll help. Better to fight than wait to be slaughtered."
A middle-aged woman with sharp eyes and a determined set to her jaw nodded. "I'm Lysa. I can set snares and traps. Used to hunt in the Frostwood."
An older man raised his hand. "Gerrick. I can swing a hammer if someone can find me one."
Aelric addressed the group. "We need to act quickly. The Howlfangs will return soon. Let's gather whatever we can use as weapons or tools. Stones, sticks, anything sharp."
Lysa nodded. "I'll start setting up snares near the entrance."
Gerrick cracked his knuckles. "I'll see if I can reinforce some of these stalagmites. Make 'em into barriers."
"Varik may be an ass," Elysia said, "but he's not wrong about one thing."
"What's that?" Aelric asked, hefting a sizable stone.
"Optimism can only get us so far," she said, her expression serious. "We need a real strategy."
He nodded. "I do have the beginnings of one."
Aelric gathered the group into a loose circle, crouching among them as the faint echoes of Howlfangs prowling outside filtered through the air. He spoke clearly and deliberately, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade.
"The Howlfangs are strong," he began, "and their coordination makes them deadly. They hunt in packs, forcing us to face them as a swarm. If we take them on in the open, we'll be overwhelmed in moments."
Some of the prisoners nodded hesitantly, their expressions grim.
"But," Aelric continued, "they attack in a predictable way. Their strength lies in numbers and coordination, not strategy. If we can funnel them into chokepoints—narrow paths where they can't overwhelm us—we can cut down their advantage."
Lysa, the woman who had mentioned her experience with snares, furrowed her brow. "Chokepoints?"
"Yes," Aelric said firmly. "If we can control where the fight happens, we have a chance to hold them off. The cave entrance is one such spot, but let's not consider options that don't have escape paths for now. We'll need places where we can lure them and thin their numbers. We'll use traps, barricades, anything to slow them down."
Varik leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips. "And what are we supposed to fight them with? Kind words?"
"Weapons," Aelric replied, meeting his gaze evenly. "If the site above isn't swarming with Howlfangs, we'll salvage what we can from the fallen—armor, swords, bows. Whatever's left."
A murmur rippled through the group. Some looked uneasy at the thought of returning to the blood-soaked battlefield, but others straightened, determination sparking in their eyes.
Elysia stepped closer as the group dispersed to prepare, her expression unreadable. She leaned in, her voice low enough for only Aelric to hear. "That plan might give us a chance against the Howlfangs," she murmured, her gaze flicking briefly toward the far corner of the cave where Varik sat with Serenna and their men. "But have you thought about them?"
Aelric followed her gaze, careful not to linger too long. "I have," he said quietly, keeping his expression neutral.
"And?" she pressed, her steel-gray eyes sharp and searching.
His jaw tightened. "Right now, they need us as much as we need them. That's the only reason they're cooperating."
"But once that changes…" Elysia let the thought hang in the air, her meaning clear. She didn't press further, but the subtle tension in her posture told him she wasn't convinced he'd fully considered the threat Varik posed.
After a pause, she added, "You know he has a potion that can attract Howlfangs, right?"
Aelric's brow furrowed as Elysia's words about the potion lingered in his mind. "Why would Varik have something like that?" he asked, his voice low, keeping the conversation private.
Elysia's lips quirked into a faint smirk, her tone edged with irony. "Let's call it... a precaution."
"A precaution?" Aelric pressed, his suspicion deepening. "Against what?"
Elysia turned to him, her steel-gray eyes glinting with muted amusement. "Why do you think they used enchanted shackles on me?" she said softly, her voice carrying a dangerous undercurrent. "The potion is just another measure—to be sure someone like me stays manageable."
The implication hung in the air like a thundercloud. Aelric's gaze flicked to the faint runes on her shackles, glowing faintly in the dim cave light. He gazed at her but knew she wouldn't entertain any more questions.
He hesitated, then glanced briefly toward Varik. Once the situation changed Varik would pounce on them like a wolf. He also had the crown in his possession and that Aleric had to get back.
"There's going to be a fight," Aelric admitted quietly, his tone measured. "A nasty, bloody one. But who wins will come down to who makes the first move. I don't intend to let that be him."
Elysia's lips quirked into a faint, humorless smile. "Good. Just make sure you're ready when the time comes."
*****
A/N:
There you have it—the first glimpses of magic and abilities! I hope you've enjoyed this small taste of what's to come. There's so much more ahead—more abilities, mysteries, and moments that will take you deeper into the heart of this world.
The next few chapters will dive headfirst into the wonders and challenges of magic, revealing secrets and surprises I can't wait to share with you. So buckle up, because the journey is only just beginning!
Thank you for reading, and I hope you'll stick around for all the magic yet to come.