A pall of quiet dread hovered over the riverbank as Kaelen Rehn trudged southward, each step a stubborn refusal to surrender to the despair clinging to his heart. His hometown of Harborough still lay behind him, burning, filling the eastern sky with plumes of black smoke. Embers glowed along the horizon like malignant fireflies, mocking him with the memory of his father's final breath.
The stench of charred wood and scorched earth still clung to his clothes, and despite the brisk morning breeze, sweat dampened the back of his neck. He gripped the strap of his satchel—a precious cargo of notes on Ascended Forms that his father, Erol, had died to protect. Kaelen's incomplete sword Soul Focus, a half-forged blade with faint lines of ember along its steel, was sheathed awkwardly at his hip. Even at rest, it felt heavy, as though sharing in his grief and guilt.
Though grief pressed upon him like a physical weight, he forced himself to keep moving. Every so often, he paused to scan the surrounding terrain: gentle rolling hills, sparse clusters of pines, and, farther off, a winding dirt path that might lead to the rumored safe haven. The fortress city—he didn't even know its name—was only a rumor among travelers and merchants who passed through Harborough. But with nowhere else to go, rumor was all he had.
Occasionally, he recalled the masked warlord's black cloak swirling through the orchard, the monstrous flames licking at the house, the chilling gaze that seemed to pierce right through walls. An unbidden shudder ran through Kaelen. He could be out there still, Kaelen thought. I need to stay alert.
At last, the gentle slope of the riverbank leveled out, and he spotted a wide clearing up ahead. He slowed, moving as quietly as possible, scanning for any sign of threat. The wind rustled through tall grass, carrying the faint chirping of crickets and the distant cries of waterfowl. A stone footbridge arched over the water—a simple crossing that might have once been a busy route for traders. Now it stood empty and broken in places, likely abandoned since conflict had spread across the region.
He approached the footbridge, noticing that several stones had crumbled, leaving gaps where the river rushed below. If the masked warlord's men were hunting survivors of Harborough, crossing a bridge in broad daylight would be risky. Still, the only alternative was swimming or wading downstream; he'd never make good time that way, and time was precious.
He rested a hand on the hilt of his sword. Father, guide me, he thought, a silent prayer to a man whose voice he could almost still hear. Then he moved forward, setting foot on the first stone slab.
A twig snapped behind him.
Kaelen spun around, heart pounding. He dropped to a crouch, hand tightening around his sword's grip, eyes scanning the undergrowth. At first, he saw nothing—just shadows, dancing leaves, and the sway of uncut grass. Then, movement: a figure parted a thick swath of cattails along the water's edge, stepping into the open.
It was a young woman, perhaps around his age, though it was difficult to tell with dirt smudged across her cheeks and her dark brown hair pulled back into a braided bun. She wore sturdy traveling leathers with patches of fresh mud at the knees, and her left arm sported a simple leather bracer carved with faintly glowing green runes. Her gaze locked onto Kaelen, and there was immediate tension in the set of her jaw.
"Stop," she ordered, voice wary but controlled. She held a short-handled staff carved from a dark, knotty wood. It was about the length of her forearm and capped with a smooth stone at the tip. Light, grass-green lines pulsed along it—an unmistakable sign of Astral Flow. Earth Affinity, Kaelen realized.
He didn't move. Adrenaline coursed through his veins. His first instinct was to brandish his own sword, but something in her eyes—the flicker of caution, the readiness to strike—warned him not to escalate unless he had to.
"I'm not looking for trouble," Kaelen said evenly.
She studied him, her grip on the staff unwavering. "Looks like you've got plenty of trouble following you anyway." She nodded toward the faint columns of smoke in the distance.
A beat passed. Kaelen's chest tightened at the memory of Harborough. He forced his voice steady. "Bandits," he lied quietly, unwilling to reveal the full horror of what he'd witnessed. "They—took everything. I'm just trying to find safety."
Her eyes flicked to the sword at his hip, then to the dust and ash staining his clothes. "Not many bandits I've seen that can raze a whole town." She took a cautious step closer, staff at the ready. "I'm guessing it wasn't just bandits."
The wind shifted, carrying a pungent hint of blood and cinder from Kaelen's clothes. He sighed. "I…don't know who exactly," he hedged, still hesitant. If she's friendly, she might be sympathetic. But if she's with them… He couldn't finish the thought.
The young woman narrowed her eyes, brow furrowing. "I'm Alyssia Verdante," she said at last, as though deciding to at least give her name. "I'm heading south."
Kaelen's guard flickered. "South? Same direction I'm going."
Her eyes slid to the broken footbridge. "You plan on crossing that?"
"Yes," Kaelen answered. "Unless you have a better route."
Alyssia let out a short, humorless laugh, lowering the staff slightly. "If I did, I wouldn't be lurking in cattails, watching you test the stones. It's half-collapsed further on, but we can still cross if we're careful."
A brief silence stretched between them. Kaelen realized his heart was still hammering. She doesn't look like a threat. Or rather, she might be a threat, but not one I want to pick a fight with. The gloom in her eyes wasn't so different from his own—a wariness born of recent pain or loss.
He cleared his throat. "Kaelen. Kaelen Rehn."
Alyssia nodded tersely. "So, Kaelen Rehn… Are you traveling alone?"
He bristled at the question, unwilling to share anything about his father, his city, or the warlord. "I am. For now."
She tapped her staff on the ground, eyes scanning the tree line. "That might be a mistake if you're heading south. There are rumors—strange creatures roaming the countryside. Refugees talk of monstrous beasts conjured by Summon Pacts gone wild. If your town was really destroyed by…'bandits,' maybe they had something like that."
Kaelen's throat tightened. The memory of the masked warlord's monstrous creatures—fiery, bestial silhouettes lumbering through the orchard—rose unbidden in his mind. "Maybe," he muttered.
Alyssia's gaze lingered on his sword again. "You're… Fire Affinity, right?"
He nodded. "And you're Earth." He gestured to the bracer on her arm, noticing the faint, shifting runic patterns that glowed green. That confirmed her elemental power.
She shifted her weight, looking uncomfortable at the mention of her element. "I am."
A tense moment passed. Though Alyssia had lowered her staff a fraction, Kaelen sensed she was still evaluating whether or not to trust him. He was doing the same with her.
Finally, she spoke, her voice quiet but firm. "Look… if you're heading south to find refuge, you'll need help. The roads are dangerous. I—" She paused, looking down as if searching for the right words. "I need help too. But I'm not traveling with just anyone. Tell me the truth: who destroyed your town?"
Kaelen inhaled slowly. The question cut deep, forcing him to confront the raw tragedy he'd lived through. He glanced at the horizon once more, then let out a long exhale. She's not an enemy. He sensed it. They were both alone out here, both battered by the world's cruelty. Maybe it's time I trust someone.
"He wasn't a bandit," Kaelen said at last, quietly. "A warlord in a black mask. His Soul Focus was… Manifested. He used Fire and maybe even Shadow. He leveled the walls like they were made of paper."
Alyssia's expression flickered with alarm. "A masked warlord with Fire and Shadow? That's…" She swallowed, lips pressed into a grim line. "I've heard rumors of someone like that. People say he's forging Summon Pacts with monstrous spirits to terrorize towns."
"That's exactly what I saw," Kaelen replied, voice thick with bitterness. "He destroyed Harborough. My father…" He clenched his jaw, unable to finish.
A faint flicker of empathy softened Alyssia's features. "I'm sorry." After a beat, she took a cautious step forward, lowering her staff entirely. "We can help each other, at least until we're safe. I'm heading to a fortress city—heard it's taking in refugees and training them to fight back. My plan is to reach it before my… family's problems catch up to me."
Kaelen studied her expression, noticing a shadow there that hinted at her own secrets. He nodded, forging a fragile alliance with that single gesture. "I've heard rumors of a fortress too. Then let's go together."
Alyssia released a breath she'd been holding. "Alright. Let's get across this bridge before we draw unwanted attention."
They crossed carefully, stepping around missing stones and wide cracks where water rushed below. The entire time, Kaelen's senses were on high alert, scanning the horizon and the treeline. Alyssia walked with her staff in front of her, tapping each slab of stone before stepping forward, ensuring it could hold their weight.
Once they reached the other side, the path meandered through a patch of willows and cattails. The muddy ground squelched beneath their boots, and the humidity enveloped them in a clammy embrace. A hush had fallen over the area, an uneasy stillness that put Kaelen even more on edge.
They pressed on until the path curved around a shallow bend of the river, revealing a broader meadow. At the far end, low hills stretched toward the horizon, dotted with occasional stands of oak and pine. Alyssia paused, holding up a hand.
"Listen," she whispered.
Kaelen strained his ears. At first, there was only the breeze rustling in the long grasses. Then he heard it: a distant, guttural snarl. His blood went cold.
"Down!" Alyssia hissed, dropping into a crouch. Kaelen immediately followed suit, sinking into the grass.
They crept forward on their hands and knees until they reached a small rise that offered a better view. Peering over the crest, Kaelen's eyes widened at the sight on the far edge of the meadow: a hulking, canine-like creature prowling among the tall grass. Its fur shimmered with an unnatural, swirling pattern of red and black, as though wreathed in embers and shadows. Occasionally, flickers of flame licked off its broad shoulders.
"That's not any normal beast," Kaelen muttered. "A Summon, maybe… or some twisted creation of that warlord."
Alyssia's knuckles whitened on her staff. "It must've been left behind, or it's scouting for more victims. Regardless, it's blocking our path."
Kaelen's heartbeat thudded in his chest. He remembered the monstrous creatures in Harborough—how they served as foot soldiers for the masked warlord. "If it's alone, we might get around it."
She gave him a sharp look. "What if it scents us? Or if there are more lurking nearby?" A glance at her trembling fingers told Kaelen she was trying to maintain composure. "We need a plan."
He swallowed, adrenaline surging. "We fight or we flee. If that thing is truly alone, maybe we can surprise it."
Alyssia's gaze flicked to his half-forged sword. "You sure you can handle it? Your Soul Focus is… incomplete, right?"
The question stung, but he nodded. "I'll try." He hesitated, then added, "Can you do anything with Earth from this distance?"
She pursed her lips. "I can reinforce the ground around us, maybe raise some small barriers. But if we get in close, I can pin it with roots or shift the soil beneath its feet." The staff glowed faintly as she considered her options. "I just… I don't want to attract attention from any other creatures. A drawn-out fight could be deadly."
Kaelen exhaled a tremulous breath. "What if we lure it into the shallows by the river? Quicksand pockets or soft mud might slow it down."
Alyssia considered, then nodded slowly. "If I saturate the ground enough with Earth-based Astral Flow, I can weaken the soil. It'll be like a sinkhole beneath its feet."
A plan formed quickly. They would sneak around the meadow's edge, using the tall grass for cover, then lead the creature toward the river. Alyssia would manipulate the ground, trapping the beast in the mud, and Kaelen would move in for a swift strike.
With no time to lose, they set their plan into motion. They circled the meadow, crouched low, silent as they could manage. The creature paced near the middle, its flickering fur an eerie beacon in the mid-morning light. Several times, Kaelen feared it would sense their presence—its ears pricked up, nose sniffing the wind. But each time, it resumed its slow prowl.
When they reached the meadow's far side, they were within fifty paces of the river. Alyssia motioned for Kaelen to hold position while she inched forward to prepare the trap zone near the bank. She knelt, pressing her staff against the ground, murmuring an incantation under her breath. Kaelen felt a faint tremor in the soil, like a pulse, as the Earth Affinity responded to her will.
Then Kaelen stood, brandishing his sword, and whistled sharply to draw the creature's attention. At once, it swiveled its head, eyes flaring with malevolent red light. A low snarl tore from its maw, and it bolted forward, crossing the field in powerful leaps.
Kaelen's heart hammered, but he kept his breathing steady. He let Astral Flow trickle into his blade, coaxing faint embers to glow along the steel's surface. A whisper of heat licked the air around him. His father had always taught him that Fire demanded focus and self-control. Don't let fear take over…
He turned and sprinted toward the river, weaving through the grass. The creature snarled, giving chase, each footfall hitting the earth with a heavy thud. Flames crackled across its spine. Kaelen dared a glance back: it was gaining on him.
Twenty paces to the riverbank. Ten. He heard Alyssia's shout—she was ready. With all the strength he could muster, Kaelen leaped across a shallow dip in the ground. The creature lunged after him, jaws snapping. A heartbeat later, the soil crumbled beneath its weight, plunging the beast into a sinkhole of thick, muddy slurry.
"Now!" Alyssia cried, stepping into view. She slammed the butt of her staff into the ground, and the land around the creature churned. Tendrils of hardened mud and twisted roots coiled around its forelegs, anchoring it in place. The creature shrieked, a hellish blend of animal rage and ethereal hiss.
Kaelen whirled around, brandishing his sword. He forced more Astral Flow into the blade, ignoring the sting of exhaustion. The embers along the metal flared brighter, crackling with nascent flames. He lunged, aiming for the creature's flank where the twisted shadows flickered. If he could strike a vital area, maybe it would collapse or vanish back to whatever Summon realm it came from.
Before the sword could connect, the creature roared and lashed out with a clawed forelimb. Even mired in the mud, it moved with frightening speed. The blow glanced off Kaelen's sword arm, sending him stumbling, but he recovered and drove the blade forward. The steel bit into the creature's flank, drawing a spurt of dark, smoking ichor.
Its roar intensified, flames surging around its body. Kaelen felt a wave of heat that threatened to overwhelm him, but Alyssia reacted swiftly—she raised her staff, and a barrier of stone erupted from the bank, blocking the worst of the fiery outburst.
"Kaelen, finish it!" she shouted over the din.
Gritting his teeth, Kaelen yanked the blade free and slashed again, pouring his fury and grief into the strike. The half-forged sword glowed with new heat, and when it struck the beast's neck, the flames met shadows in a blinding flash. The creature let out a final, piercing wail before collapsing into the mud. Its embers flickered and died, leaving only a steaming husk that dissolved into ash-like fragments.
For a moment, Kaelen and Alyssia stood there, panting, adrenaline coursing. The sinkhole of churned mud began to settle as the earth calmed under Alyssia's control. Kaelen's arm throbbed where the creature's claw had scraped him—blood seeped through his torn sleeve.
Alyssia rushed over, concern etched into her features. "Let me see that."
He sank to a knee, his sword clattering at his side, chest heaving. He tried to wave her off, but she was insistent. She tore a strip from her own cloak and dabbed at the wound, which was thankfully not too deep.
"We need to move," Kaelen managed, voice still unsteady. "Before something else shows up."
Alyssia nodded. "Agreed."
She helped him to his feet. They glanced at the remains of the creature, which had all but melted into a dark, muddy patch. Alyssia's expression was grave. "That was definitely not a natural animal. It felt… twisted."
Kaelen shook his head, swallowing. "It's got to be connected to that warlord's Summons."
A flicker of fear crossed her face. "Or to someone else using Summon Pacts in foul ways."
They didn't linger. After grabbing Kaelen's sword and sliding it back into its worn scabbard, they hurried along the riverbank, putting distance between themselves and the site of the skirmish. The rush of victory was tempered by the knowledge that other threats likely lay ahead.
They walked in tense silence for the next mile, passing from the muddy river path into dryer woodlands dotted with oak and beech trees. Sunlight filtered through the canopy, and the chirping of birds offered some small comfort that at least this stretch of land remained untouched by war.
Eventually, Alyssia paused at a small clearing, where a slow trickle of fresh water sprang from a rocky outcrop. Kaelen leaned against a tree, pressing a hand to his throbbing arm. Alyssia scooped water in her cupped hands, bringing it to her lips. After a few gulps, she turned to him. "You should clean that wound before it gets worse."
He nodded, stepping forward to let the cool water wash away the dried blood and grime. She handed him the strip of cloth from earlier, and he wrapped it around his arm once more, the rudimentary bandage stanching the bleeding.
Alyssia watched him for a moment, then spoke softly. "I'm sorry about your father."
Kaelen's jaw tightened. He finished tying the bandage before answering. "He… protected me until the end. I only wish I could've done more."
She lowered her gaze. "I know what it's like to feel helpless. My—" She broke off, as if catching herself from saying too much. "My family is depending on me to solve a… problem. But I can't do it alone. And I'm running out of time."
Kaelen glanced at her. "Is that why you're heading to the fortress city?"
"In part," she allowed. "I need training, or guidance, or… anything that will help me control a Summon Pact I never asked for." At his raised eyebrow, she sighed and continued, "My grandmother once forged a Summon Pact with an Earth spirit to protect our lands. She passed it down to my mother, and now, apparently, to me. But the Summon is… restless. I can feel it inside. Sometimes it slips out, and I'm terrified of losing control."
Kaelen's eyes widened. He recalled the cult-like Summon ritual he'd heard stories about—how forging such pacts demanded an enormous toll. So that's her burden. "I had no idea Summons could be inherited."
Alyssia gave a mirthless chuckle. "It's rare. Usually a Summon Pact is sealed to one person. But in my family's case, it's become a generational curse. I need help breaking it—or mastering it—before something terrible happens."
A hush fell between them. Kaelen sensed the pain beneath her words. "I'm sorry," he offered quietly. "For what it's worth, seeing you manipulate Earth that way… that's powerful. You've got talent."
She shrugged, a ghost of a smile flickering across her face. "Talent alone isn't enough to save anyone, is it?" Her gaze drifted to the winding path ahead. "Maybe if we reach that fortress, we'll find answers. For both of us."
Kaelen followed her gaze. "For your Summon Pact," he said, "and for the truth about how to unlock my father's research on Ascended Forms."
She turned to him, curiosity piqued. "Ascended Forms?"
He hesitated, uncertain how much to divulge. But after what they'd been through together, trust felt more appropriate than secrecy. So he gave her a brief recounting of Erol's final words and how the notes in his satchel indicated there were higher stages of Soul Focus beyond the Manifested Form—stages thought to be myth or legend, requiring Equivalent Exchange and unimaginable sacrifice.
Alyssia listened with keen interest. "That might be the only way to defeat a warlord that powerful. It'd also explain why he's so interested in Summons or rumored Ascension artifacts. He wants all that power for himself."
"Yeah," Kaelen murmured, glancing at the satchel slung over his shoulder. "But if unlocking an Ascended Form demands a heavy price, I don't know if I can go through with it. My father died protecting this research. Maybe that alone is enough reason."
Alyssia studied him for a moment, something like sympathy in her eyes. "We'll figure it out. Step by step."
A reluctant smile tugged at Kaelen's lips. "Thank you."
They resumed their journey, the sun inching higher overhead. The forest gradually thinned, and the ground beneath their feet began to slope upward, becoming rockier. Alyssia scanned the land ahead with a slight frown. "If we keep heading this way, we should reach a crossroads by evening. From there, the fortress city might be just a day or two away—assuming no detours."
Kaelen nodded, privately relieved. He couldn't wait to find a place with actual walls and defenses, a chance to rest without constantly looking over his shoulder for masked warlords and twisted Summon beasts.
They crested a ridge overlooking a valley that cut through the hills. The path before them meandered down into a narrow ravine. Towering stone outcroppings crowded the sides, forming a natural maze. Alyssia let out a slow breath. "This valley is called Karradin's Pass, if I remember right. It's shorter than going around, but it's a choke point."
"Meaning an ambush could be lurking anywhere," Kaelen finished. He eyed the rocky walls warily. She nodded.
They decided it would still be faster to chance the pass than to lose half a day circling around. With the sky growing clearer overhead—blue tinged with streaks of white cloud—they started down the winding trail. Their footsteps echoed in the enclosed space, and every sound seemed amplified: the drip of water from stone ledges, the scuffle of their boots against gravel. A hawk's screech echoed overhead, raising the hair on Kaelen's arms.
About halfway through the pass, they found themselves at a fork. One path led toward a series of jagged boulders, while the other sloped into a deeper, narrower section. Alyssia moved to examine a half-buried wooden sign, the letters worn almost illegible by time and weather.
"Which way?" Kaelen whispered, scanning the cliffs. Something about this place felt suffocating, as though unseen eyes were watching.
Alyssia frowned at the sign. "Hard to say. The writing is mostly gone, but I think the left path climbs out of the valley. The right path might loop around but is longer."
Suddenly, a distant clang of metal on stone shattered the tense silence. Both of them froze.
"Did you hear that?" Kaelen mouthed.
Alyssia nodded, lips pressed thin. They pressed themselves against a rock wall, listening. Another clang, followed by a faint grunt, then shuffling footsteps. Kaelen's pulse quickened. Is it the warlord's men? Or something else?
They exchanged a glance, then inched toward the source of the noise, hugging the valley's wall. As they rounded a bend, Kaelen spotted a figure lying on the ground—a traveler, by the look of his dusty cloak. Standing over him were two armed men wearing battered leather armor. One brandished a curved sword; the other had a short spear. Both radiated a flickering trace of Astral Flow—weak, but still dangerous.
"Bandits," Alyssia breathed. She looked to Kaelen, who nodded grimly.
The bandits were rummaging through the traveler's pouch, paying no mind to anything else. Kaelen's stomach twisted in anger. He might not be able to save everyone, but if he ignored this, he'd never forgive himself. Alyssia seemed to share the sentiment, her eyes narrowing with resolve.
They crept closer, using a protruding boulder as cover. Kaelen whispered, "I'll draw their attention. You circle around." She agreed with a curt nod.
Kaelen stepped out, sword at the ready. "Leave him alone," he called, voice echoing in the ravine.
The bandits whipped around, startled. The one with the spear stepped forward, sneering. "Oh? Another do-gooder. And with a toy sword at that."
Despite the jibe, Kaelen stood firm. Embers danced along his blade's faint lines. "I've had enough of murderers and thieves today. Let him go."
The second bandit grinned, hefting his curved sword. "Bold words for a pup. We'll take your coin—and your life."
Before they could charge, Alyssia launched her ambush from behind, slamming her staff into the ground. A low rumble shook the pass, and a jagged stone ridge erupted beneath the curved-sword bandit's feet, toppling him sideways. He let out a yelp, scrabbling for balance.
Kaelen sprinted forward to meet the spearman. The bandit jabbed, but Kaelen sidestepped, sparks flying as steel clashed. Focus… focus… He funneled a thread of Astral Flow into his sword, feeling the embers flare. He slashed in a swift counter, forcing the bandit back.
Meanwhile, Alyssia swung her staff at the other bandit, who had recovered from the rock's upheaval. He cursed and lunged. She expertly ducked, hooking his ankle with a root she conjured from the ground, sending him stumbling again.
The spearman growled in frustration, jabbing repeatedly at Kaelen. Each thrust was met with Kaelen's parry, though the repeated impacts jarred Kaelen's still-sore arm. When he spotted an opening, he channeled a quick burst of flame along his blade—enough to scorch the bandit's leather chest guard. The bandit recoiled with a cry of alarm.
Alyssia took advantage of the distraction, sending a slab of earth rising between the two bandits, separating them. Seeing they were outmatched, the spearman threw a desperate look at his partner, who still flailed against Alyssia's earth manipulations.
"Retreat!" the spearman barked. He hurled a knife at Kaelen's feet to buy time, then sprinted down the pass. His partner scrambled after him, cursing as he nearly tripped over the uneven ground. They vanished around a bend in a clatter of boots and panicked swearing.
Kaelen let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Alyssia dispelled the rocks and roots with a quick wave of her staff, then hurried to check on the unconscious traveler. He was alive, though a bruise marred his forehead where he'd been struck. Together, they propped him against the boulder.
The stranger stirred, groaning. "Who…who are you?"
"Friends," Alyssia said gently. She offered him water from her canteen. He drank gratefully.
"T-they took my pack," he stammered. "I'm just a traveler, heading to the fortress city to find refuge." Fear widened his eyes. "You saved my life. Thank you."
Kaelen knelt beside him. "We're heading that way too." He paused, glancing in the direction the bandits had fled. "We can't linger, though. There could be more of them—maybe even worse."
The traveler nodded weakly. "I can walk. I think."
They helped him up. Though shaken, the man insisted he'd manage. "I'll repay you someday," he promised, but Alyssia just shook her head and led the way back to the fork in the pass.
They ultimately decided to take the left path, which climbed out of the valley. The traveler trudged behind them, leaning heavily on a makeshift crutch carved from a fallen branch. Kaelen kept his sword ready, the memory of the monstrous Summon fresh in his mind.
As they reached the top of the ridge, the rocky terrain gave way to rolling hills dotted with golden grass. The air felt fresher here, less stifling than the canyon below. Kaelen breathed in relief. Alyssia shielded her eyes from the sun, scanning the horizon.
"There," she murmured, pointing to a jagged outline far in the distance. It might have been a cluster of buildings or towers. "That could be the fortress city."
A wave of cautious hope washed over Kaelen. He turned to Alyssia, ready to speak, but she was looking at him with an expression that mingled resolve and concern.
"Kaelen… earlier, you said you'd never forgive yourself if you ignored a threat like that Summoned beast. And we just risked our lives again to save a stranger from bandits. Are you sure you're ready for a lot more of that once we get to the fortress? They might ask us to fight. To defend. To keep risking everything."
His gaze shifted to the satchel over his shoulder, the precious notes that might hold the key to unlocking an Ascended Form. "If it means stopping that warlord—and protecting people who can't protect themselves—then yes. That's what Father would have wanted."
Alyssia's lips pressed into a thin line, and she nodded. "And… you'll help me find a way to break or master this Summon Pact before it destroys me?"
He hesitated for only a moment. "Yes," he said firmly. "I will."
A faint smile touched her face. Their alliance—still fresh, still uneasy—had solidified in that shared purpose. They turned their eyes to the distant city, where safety, training, and a new chapter of their destinies awaited.
But as they began the long trek across the windswept hills, a faint rumble like distant thunder made them pause. Kaelen looked back toward the valley. He couldn't see anything unusual, but the air felt charged, as if some malicious presence loomed just out of sight.
"Let's keep moving," he said softly, guiding the injured traveler forward. Alyssia nodded, her grip tightening on her staff. Neither spoke aloud of the unease that trailed them like a specter, but both felt it: the masked warlord's shadow stretched over the land, and they would need far more than luck to survive what lay ahead.
A low snarl echoed again from somewhere behind them, carried on the wind. Though the group pressed forward, a chilling thought dawned on Kaelen: If that monstrous Summon was just a scout, or a stray… what might come next? The final image lingering in his mind was the flash of ember and shadow as the beast collapsed. The warlord is out there, he thought grimly. And he won't stop until he gets what he wants.