The camp was eerily quiet. The enemy had vanished into the forest, retreating into the shadows like ghosts. But even in their absence, the tension lingered.
Tharion sat on a fallen log, his breath still unsteady. The golden energy had faded, leaving him feeling drained—as if something had been taken from him.
Ceyla knelt beside Edran, checking his pulse. The old man was weak, but alive.
"We need to get them out of here," she said, glancing at the other villagers. "They won't survive another attack."
Tharion exhaled slowly, nodding. "Agreed."
But even as he spoke, the words of the Warden echoed in his mind—
"You truly are the lost heir."
What did that mean?
A Fractured Memory
As the villagers helped each other to their feet, Tharion felt a sharp pain behind his eyes. He winced, pressing his fingers to his temples.
Then—the vision struck.
Flashes of a battlefield.
A city burning in golden fire.
A throne, shattered into ruins.
And a voice, distant yet familiar—
"You are not ready."
The vision faded as quickly as it came, leaving Tharion gasping for breath.
Ceyla grabbed his arm. "Tharion! What's wrong?"
He shook his head, trying to clear the dizziness. "I saw something."
Her grip tightened. "Another vision?"
He met her gaze, his expression grim. "Something from a past I don't remember."
The Road Back
The return journey to Windfell was slow. The villagers were exhausted, many injured from the brutal march their captors had forced upon them.
Ceyla kept glancing at Tharion, concern etched into her features. "You need to tell me what's going on," she said quietly.
Tharion hesitated. He barely understood it himself. But keeping secrets would only put them at risk.
"I think… I think I was someone else before," he admitted. "Not just before I woke up in this world. Before all of this. And whoever I was—" He looked at his hands. "They had this power."
Ceyla absorbed his words, her face unreadable. "And now… it's waking up inside you?"
"I don't know if that's a good thing," he admitted.
Windfell Reborn
When they finally reached the village, a strange feeling settled over Tharion.
Windfell should have felt like home—like a place of refuge after everything they had endured. But as they passed through its battered gates, he couldn't shake the unease.
Something was coming.
And it was only a matter of time before it found him.