The forest was unnaturally quiet after the battle, the absence of growls and snapping claws leaving Astrid more on edge than any noise could. Her hands still tingled faintly, a reminder of the power she had barely managed to wield against the alpha. She glanced at Lucien, who hadn't said much since the fight, his gaze sweeping the area like he was waiting for another attack.
But it wasn't silence that came. A faint melody drifted through the trees, haunting and raw.
Astrid froze mid-step, her brow furrowing. "Do you hear that?"
Lucien stopped beside her, his expression sharpening. "Yes. Stay close."
Astrid smirked faintly, though her fingers twitched toward the magic she could barely summon. "What are we walking into now, I wonder?"
They followed the sound cautiously, each step muffled by the thick carpet of leaves. The tune grew louder, more distinct, until they emerged into a small clearing.
A man sat hunched on a log, a lute resting in his lap. He played with a frantic energy, his fingers moving over the strings as though the music was the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth. His clothes were torn, his face smeared with dirt, and his eyes—wide and darting—were the eyes of someone who had seen too much.
Lucien drew his sword, the faint scrape of metal cutting through the melody. The man looked up, startled, his hand freezing mid-chord.
"Who are you?" Lucien demanded, his voice cold.
The man scrambled to his feet, clutching the lute like a shield. "No one! I'm no one!" he stammered, his voice hoarse.
Astrid stepped forward, her gaze sharp as she assessed him. "No one doesn't wander alone in a forest like this," she said. "Especially not a forest crawling with dark magical beasts."
The man's hands trembled, his grip tightening on the lute. "I... I've been hiding. Running. I didn't know where else to go."
"Hiding from what?" Lucien pressed, taking another step closer.
The man hesitated, his eyes darting between them. "The shadows," he whispered. "They came out of nowhere. They took everyone. I barely escaped."
Astrid exchanged a glance with Lucien. The man's story wasn't impossible, but it wasn't convincing either.
"And you just happened to survive?" she asked, folding her arms.
"I hid," the man said quickly. "In a hollow tree. I stayed there until the growling stopped. Then I ran."
Astrid studied him for a long moment. He was thin, his face gaunt, his hands trembling with exhaustion. He looked harmless enough—but harmless appearances had fooled her before.
"You're carrying a lute," she said, her tone neutral. "Not a weapon. No food. No supplies. How exactly have you lasted this long?"
The man swallowed hard. "I played," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "It keeps the silence away. Keeps me calm. If I stop... it feels like the shadows get closer."
Astrid tilted her head, intrigued despite herself. "Interesting coping mechanism."
Lucien didn't look convinced. "He's lying. Or at best, hiding something."
The man flinched, his grip on the lute tightening. "I'm not lying! I swear! I just want to get out of here alive. Please help me."
Astrid tapped a finger against her lips, her mind racing. He was weak, scared, and possibly useless. But there was something about him—something she couldn't quite place. A gut feeling told her not to dismiss him outright, though she didn't trust her gut enough to act without caution.
"Let's say I believe you," she said finally. "Why should I risk my neck dragging you along? What exactly can you do besides play depressing tunes?"
"I can—I'll do anything," the man said, desperation seeping into his voice. "I can listen. Carry things. Warn you if anything's coming. Please. Don't leave me
Astrid turned to Lucien. "Thoughts?"
Lucien's jaw tightened. "We leave him. He's dead weight."
Astrid raised an eyebrow. "Efficient as always."
"He's more likely to get us killed than to help us," Lucien said, his tone firm. "If the shadowbeasts come back, he won't last five seconds."
"Maybe," Astrid said, her gaze drifting back to the man. "Or maybe he'll last just long enough to make himself useful."
Lucien frowned. "You're seriously considering this?"
"Relax," Astrid said lightly. "I haven't made up my mind yet."
She stepped closer to the man, keeping her hands loose at her sides in case he tried something stupid. "What's your name?"
"Ronan," he said quickly.
"Ronan," she repeated, testing the name on her tongue. "Alright, Ronan. Here's the deal: you stay quiet, you don't get in the way, and you do exactly as I say. If you so much as breathe wrong, I'll leave you for the beasts. Understood?"
Ronan nodded fervently. "Understood."
Lucien's expression darkened, but he said nothing as Astrid turned back to him.
"Oh...come on. Wipe that look of your face. He might surprise us," she said with a faint smirk. "And if he doesn't, well... between the two of us, I'm sure we can figure something out."
Lucien's lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn't argue.
As they left the clearing, Ronan trailing nervously behind, Astrid felt the weight of her decision settle over her. She didn't fully trust him, but she couldn't shake the feeling that his survival wasn't just luck.
The forest grew darker as they pressed on, the air thick with an unnatural stillness.
"Do you hear that?" Ronan whispered suddenly, his voice barely audible.
Astrid stopped, her heart skipping a beat. It wasn't silence this time. It was the faint rustling of something large moving through the trees.
Lucien drew his sword. "Stay behind me," he ordered.
Astrid's hands lit with the faint glow of her magic, her eyes scanning the shadows.
From the darkness, a pair of glowing red eyes emerged, followed by another. And another.
Astrid smirked despite herself. "Well, Ronan," she said, her voice low. "Let's see if you're worth keeping around."
The forest came alive with growls, shadowbeasts closing in from all sides. Astrid braced herself, her hands sparking weakly with magic she could barely summon. Lucien stood beside her, sword drawn, his eyes scanning for the first attack.
But it wasn't enough. There were too many.
Ronan stood frozen, clutching his lute as the beasts advanced. One lunged for him, jaws wide, and time seemed to slow.
"Move!" Astrid shouted, her voice cutting through the chaos.
Ronan didn't move. Instead, his fingers trembled over the lute strings. A deep, resonant note escaped, vibrating through the air like a physical force. The shadowbeast stopped mid-leap, suspended as though caught in an invisible grip.
The note grew louder, deeper, and the beast let out a shriek as its form began to dissolve. Another string vibrated under Ronan's touch, and the sound exploded outward, sending the other beasts reeling. The clearing filled with the eerie sound, raw and otherworldly, as the creatures disintegrated one by one.
When the final beast vanished, silence fell.
Astrid turned slowly, her heart pounding as her gaze locked onto Ronan. He stood trembling, the lute still in his hands, his wide eyes darting between her and Lucien.
"What was that?" Astrid demanded, her voice sharp.
Ronan's grip tightened on the lute. "I—I didn't mean to—"
Lucien stepped forward, his sword lowered but his expression cold. "That wasn't normal magic," he said. "That was... resonance magic."
Astrid blinked, frowning. "Resonance magic?"
Lucien nodded, his tone heavy. "An ancient form of magic that uses sound to manipulate the physical and magical realms. It's raw, powerful, and extremely dangerous."
"Dangerous?" Astrid asked, crossing her arms.
Lucien's gaze didn't leave Ronan. "It doesn't just destroy—it disrupts. It can tear apart spells, unravel enchantments, fracture living things and even control the mind. People feared it because it couldn't be controlled and it was almost impossible to guard against. The Resonants—those who wielded it—were hunted down centuries ago."
Astrid raised an eyebrow, glancing at Ronan. "Hunted? Sounds dramatic."
Lucien's voice grew colder. "It wasn't. Resonance magic can destabilize the balance of the world. If he loses control..."
Ronan flinched, taking a step back. "I didn't ask for this," he said, his voice cracking. "I never wanted it. Please I'm not a curse. I'm not cursed. They said I'd bring ruin wherever I went, but it's not true. It's not true." The final words mumbled into a whisper.
Astrid studied him, her mind racing. He was dangerous, yes, but the ability he'd just displayed was unlike anything she'd seen. It had turned the tide of a hopeless situation in seconds. She didn't trust him, but she couldn't ignore the potential.
"You've been hiding this," she said slowly, her tone thoughtful. "Because you're afraid. But hiding hasn't made you safer, has it?"
Ronan shook his head, his shoulders hunched. It's the same, no matter where I go."
Astrid's lips curved into a faint smirk. "Well, lucky for you, I don't care about curses or reputations. What I care about is survival. And right now, you're useful."
Lucien frowned. "Astrid—"
She raised a hand, cutting him off. "Relax, Your Highness. I'm not saying we let him roam free. But we can't waste an asset like this."
Ronan's head snapped up, his expression a mix of confusion and hope. "You... you're not going to leave me?"
"Not yet," Astrid said, her voice steady. "But if you stay, you'll learn to control it. Otherwise, you're more dangerous to us than the beasts."
"You'd teach me?" Ronan asked, his voice trembling.
Astrid shrugged. "You saved us. I owe you that much. Just don't make me regret it."
Lucien sheathed his sword but didn't relax. "This isn't a game, Astrid. If he loses control—"
"Then I'll deal with it," she interrupted, meeting his gaze. "You said it yourself, didn't you? Resonance magic was feared because people didn't understand it. Maybe it's time someone did."
Lucien's jaw tightened, but he said nothing more.
The group moved on, the forest still heavy with tension. Ronan stayed close but silent, his lute clutched tightly to his chest. Astrid kept her magic ready, though her thoughts lingered on what she'd seen.
They hadn't gone far when the air grew colder, a strange pressure settling over the forest.
Lucien stopped, his hand back on his sword. "Something's wrong."
Astrid's magic flared faintly in her palms as she scanned the shadows.
And then it came—a voice, low and melodic, echoing through the trees.
"Fascinating," it said. "The last Resonant, traveling with the cursed duchess and the golden prince. How poetic."
Astrid's blood ran cold.