"Baron Faux." The name echoed in my mind, reverberating with menace. He had once been a celebrated mage, a key member of the Heart Kingdom's council. Now, he was a pariah, infamous for his twisted experiments and forbidden practices. He had been given the nickname The Puppet Master due to his specialization in mind manipulation.
Why would he attack us if he was no longer allied with the Heart Kingdom? The thought lingered, planting seeds of doubt. I stood abruptly, my fists clenched in frustration.
"Do you take me for a fool?" I demanded, my voice sharp and unyielding. "Everyone knows Baron Faux severed ties with the Heart Kingdom years ago."
Freya remained silent, her head bowed as if carrying the weight of my accusation. Slowly, she lifted her scorched shirt, revealing a large sigil burned into her stomach. The mark pulsed with dark energy, its unnatural aura oppressive and suffocating.
"This… this is what he did to me," she whispered, her voice trembling. Tears slipped down her cheeks, catching the sunlight as they fell. "He took me from my family, forced me into an awakening, and bound me to his will. I act whenever he commands, whether I want to or not."
She let her shirt fall back into place, her gaze clouded with sorrow and shame.
I stared at her, my thoughts racing. The hardened warrior who had fought by my side was gone, replaced by a terrified girl shackled by magic and cruelty. My blood boiled at the thought of anyone using a child as a weapon.
"Don't tell me you pity her," Sango's voice cut through my thoughts, cold and sharp. "She's lying. She's the reason your father is dead, the reason this entire camp lies in ruins. Look around you—she's a threat."
I wanted to agree with him, to let my anger take control. But I couldn't. Not after what I had just seen.
"How does this sigil work?" I asked, forcing my voice to steady.
Freya hesitated before speaking, her voice barely audible. "The sigil is tied to my life force. I can't resist it when he activates it. I don't know much about it, but… it's an original binding. It has a time limit. After he uses it, I return to my normal state for a day."
My mind latched onto her words. A time limit. An original binding. Such magic was rare, requiring extraordinary skill to create. Only three were known to exist in the entire world—and now I had encountered a fourth.
"If you're so worried about her, contract her," Sango said abruptly, his tone laced with irritation.
"What?" I asked, startled.
"Form a binding contract with her as awakened beings," he explained. "A contract nullifies any weaker bindings, including her sigil."
As he spoke, knowledge flooded my mind—a gift of my awakening. I absorbed the instructions, ensuring I understood every step.
"Would you like to form a contract with me?" I asked, meeting Freya's gaze.
"A contract?" she echoed, her brows furrowing.
"Yes," I said gently. "With it, I could nullify your sigil. In return, you would help me find Baron Faux."
Her eyes betrayed the war within her. This was her chance at freedom, yet it meant defying a man whose name alone could freeze her in fear. She paced nervously, biting her fingers as she weighed her decision.
Finally, she stopped and sighed heavily. "I want to be free," she said, her voice quivering, "but my family is still in the Heart Kingdom. If I break free, he'll punish them. I'm sorry… but I can't help you."
Her words should have enraged me, but they didn't. All I felt was pity. I looked around at the ruins of our camp, the ashes of my brothers and sisters carried away by the wind. Why couldn't I feel the fury that had once come so easily?
Suddenly, a new presence broke the stillness. A figure emerged from the shadows, deliberate and silent. Before I could react, pain exploded in my abdomen. The force sent me flying, and I crashed into the ground with a gasp.
"Help!" Freya screamed, her voice breaking as the figure dragged her away.
I tried to move, to go after her, but Sango pinned me down with surprising strength.
"Listen, kid," he said, his voice grim. "That god is not to be messed with. He's the one person your pride cannot beat."
His words barely registered as my vision blurred. A familiar voice echoed in my mind—a god's voice, one that had once questioned my pride. It told me to let go.
Darkness swallowed me.
When I woke, the sun was still high, its blinding rays forcing me to squint. The muffled clanking of armor reached my ears. Groaning, I sat up, my body aching.
Several soldiers surrounded me, their faces obscured by helmets. They moved purposefully through the ruins, carrying a flag emblazoned with the crest of the Spade Kingdom—my kingdom. Yet, their uniforms were unfamiliar.
"Halt!" a voice boomed.
I froze as spears and swords pointed at me.
"State your name and liege," the voice demanded. The speaker was indistinguishable from the rest, their helmet masking their face.
I raised my hands cautiously. "Mason Hunt. I am of the 13th Legion," I said firmly.
The soldiers exchanged glances before the voice came again. "What happened here?"
I hesitated, my eyes dropping to the scorched ground. I could have told them the truth, but instead, I lied.
"We were attacked," I said quietly. "By the Heart Kingdom. An emperor appeared and burned our camp to ashes. I only survived because I… awakened."
The soldiers murmured amongst themselves, their eyes darting between me and the devastation around us.
A soldier at the back removed his helmet and stepped forward. He was an older man, his face scarred and weathered. The others shifted aside, making way for him.
"Show me," he commanded, his voice steady and familiar. "Show me if you truly awakened."
Lowering my hands, I called upon my power. A surge of lightning struck the ground at my feet, its energy crackling as it enveloped me.
The man dropped to one knee, bowing deeply. The soldiers followed suit, their voices ringing out in unison:
"We honor you!"
It was then I realized who they were. They were the Heralds.