The village bustled with life as dawn broke over the horizon. Merchants were setting up their stalls, farmers led livestock through the streets, and the aroma of fresh bread filled the air. Kael observed it all with quiet fascination. Each sound and smell felt vivid, almost overwhelming. Mortality was a sensory experience he hadn't expected to enjoy.
He stood by the village well, drawing water as villagers passed by, offering polite smiles or curious glances. Despite his unassuming demeanor, Kael could feel the faint tension in the air. These people were wary, their lives marked by hardship and uncertainty. The shadow beasts had left their scars, even if the villagers didn't speak of them aloud.
"Morning!" A cheerful voice broke through his thoughts.
Kael turned to see a young woman with bright eyes and a bundle of herbs in her arms. Her golden hair shimmered in the morning light, and her smile was disarmingly warm.
"You must be the traveler everyone's talking about," she said. "I'm Lyra, the village healer."
Kael inclined his head slightly. "You have a keen eye for strangers."
Lyra laughed. "It's a small village. New faces tend to stand out." She paused, looking at him curiously. "But you're… different. Can't put my finger on it, but there's something about you."
Kael resisted the urge to smirk. If only you knew.
As the day went on, Kael made his way to the village outskirts, drawn by the faint hum of magic in the air. He found Rynn, the elder's grandson, practicing with a staff in a small clearing. The boy's movements were clumsy, but there was potential in the way he wielded the weapon.
"Your stance is weak," Kael said, stepping into the clearing.
Rynn startled, nearly dropping his staff. "Oh, it's you—the traveler." He straightened, looking embarrassed. "I'm trying to learn magic, but it's harder than I thought."
Kael studied the boy for a moment. There was a spark in his eyes—a determination that reminded Kael of himself in his earliest days. "Show me," he said.
Rynn hesitated, then raised his staff. With a deep breath, he muttered an incantation. A faint glow surrounded the tip of the staff, but the spell fizzled out before it could take form.
Kael frowned. "You lack focus. Magic is not just words and gestures—it's willpower. Conviction."
Rynn lowered his staff, looking frustrated. "It's easy for you to say. You're probably a master."
Kael chuckled softly. "Far from it. But I've learned that hesitation is the enemy of magic."
He stepped closer, adjusting Rynn's grip on the staff. "Try again. But this time, visualize the spell as if it's already complete. Feel it in your core, and let it flow naturally."
Rynn nodded, his brows furrowed in concentration. He repeated the incantation, and this time, the staff emitted a steady glow. A small orb of light hovered at its tip, flickering but stable.
"I did it!" Rynn exclaimed, his face lighting up with joy.
Kael smiled faintly. "Good. But don't get complacent. Mastery takes time."
Later that evening, Kael joined the villagers around a large bonfire. The atmosphere was lively, with music and laughter filling the air. Children danced around the flames, while adults shared stories and drank from wooden mugs.
Lyra approached Kael, handing him a cup of spiced cider. "You're full of surprises," she said, sitting beside him. "I heard you helped Rynn with his magic today."
Kael took a sip, the warmth of the drink spreading through his chest. "The boy has potential. He just needs guidance."
Lyra tilted her head, studying him. "You speak like someone who's seen a lot. Like you've been everywhere and nowhere at once."
Kael gazed into the fire, his expression unreadable. "Perhaps I have."
Before Lyra could respond, the sound of distant howls cut through the night. The villagers froze, their joy replaced by fear.
"Shadow beasts," someone whispered.
The howls grew louder, closer. Lyra stood, her face pale. "They've never come this close before."
Kael rose to his feet, his expression calm but resolute. "Stay here. I'll handle this."
Aldric, the village elder, approached, his staff in hand. "You can't face them alone, traveler. These beasts are relentless."
Kael met Aldric's gaze, his golden eyes glowing faintly in the firelight. "Trust me."
Kael stepped into the darkness beyond the village, the howls growing louder with each step. Soon, the creatures emerged—three massive wolves with glowing red eyes and shadowy forms that seemed to flicker in and out of existence.
Kael raised a hand, murmuring an incantation.
"Chains of Oblivion."
Dark tendrils erupted from the ground, ensnaring the wolves and holding them in place. The beasts thrashed and snarled, but the chains held firm.
Kael walked toward them, his presence radiating authority. With a flick of his wrist, he unleashed a second spell.
"Judgment's Flame."
A pillar of golden fire engulfed the creatures, their howls turning to shrieks as they were reduced to ash.
Kael stood in silence for a moment, the faint glow of his magic fading.
"They're getting bolder," he muttered. "Something is driving them closer to the villages."
When Kael returned to the bonfire, the villagers greeted him with cheers and gratitude. Lyra approached him, her eyes wide with amazement.
"You… you're not just a traveler, are you?" she said softly.
Kael smiled faintly. "Just someone who knows how to handle trouble."
Aldric stepped forward, his expression serious. "You've saved us tonight, but I fear this is only the beginning. The shadow beasts are not acting on their own. There's a greater force at work."
Kael nodded, his expression grim. "I'll find out what's behind this. And I'll put an end to it."
Lyra placed a hand on his arm, her touch light but firm. "Whatever you're facing, you don't have to face it alone. The people here… we'll support you however we can."
Kael looked at her, something stirring within him. It had been eons since he'd felt the warmth of companionship.
"Thank you," he said simply.
As the villagers began to disperse, Kael gazed up at the stars, his resolve hardening. The shadows were growing, and Zarathus Primus was undoubtedly behind it. But Kael would not falter.
He had chosen this path, and he would see it through to the end.
End of Chapter 2