Unseen eyes began to watch Ares. Whispers followed him like shadows through the city's winding streets. He could feel it in the subtle shifts in the gazes of passersby, in the hushed tones that fell silent as he approached, in the unnerving feeling of being observed from the darkened alleys and shadowed windows. The freedom he'd briefly tasted after his defiant act in the festival square was already evaporating, replaced by a chilling sense of precarity.
The inn room, once a sanctuary of anonymity, now felt like a cage. He spent his days in a state of restless vigilance, practicing with the longsword, trying to coax the "Miracle" power to respond, to obey. But it remained capricious, a volatile force that flared and faded seemingly at whim. Sleep offered little respite, plagued by fragmented dreams of purple lightning, distorted runes, and whispers echoing in the void.
One evening, seeking a momentary escape from the oppressive atmosphere of the inn, Ares ventured out into the city's twilight. He wandered towards the less frequented districts, hoping to lose himself amongst the anonymous throngs of laborers and merchants returning home. The air was thick with the smells of woodsmoke and spices, the sounds of bartering voices and the clang of blacksmiths' hammers fading with the dying light.
As he rounded a dimly lit corner, a voice, low and urgent, startled him from his thoughts.
"Swordsman. A word, if you would."
Ares instinctively tensed, hand instinctively moving towards the hilt of his sword concealed beneath his cloak. He turned to face the speaker, a figure emerging from the deeper shadows of an alleyway. It was an elderly woman, cloaked and hooded, her face mostly obscured by shadow, but the eyes that peered out were sharp, intelligent, and held a curious intensity.
"Who are you?" Ares asked, his voice low and cautious, assessing the woman for any sign of threat.
"One who has been watching," she replied, her voice raspy but clear. "Watching you, swordsman. Since the… spectacle at the festival."
Ares narrowed his eyes. "You're one of them? Sent to… observe me?" He couldn't quite discern her affiliation, but the city felt suddenly full of unseen watchers, and she seemed to confirm his unease.
The woman chuckled, a dry, humorless sound. "Observe? Perhaps. But not in the way you imagine. I am not sent by those who seek to control or… eliminate you, swordsman. My interests are… aligned with yours, though you may not yet realize it."
Ares remained wary. "Aligned how? I have no allies. And certainly not with anyone who would 'watch' me."
"You are wrong, swordsman," she said, stepping fully into the dim light, revealing more of her features. Her face was lined with age, but her gaze was piercing. "You possess something… unique. Something the powers that be will seek to suppress, or exploit. And you, in your defiance, in your… blasphemy, have unwittingly stumbled upon a path that many have dreamed of, but few have dared to tread."
Ares felt a prickle of unease, but also a flicker of… something else. Curiosity? Hope? He had been alone in his questioning, alone in his burgeoning rebellion. Could this woman be… an ally? Or was this a more subtle form of entrapment?
"What path are you talking about?" he asked, his voice softening slightly, intrigued despite his caution.
The woman's lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. "The path of questioning, swordsman. The path of seeking truth beyond the dictates of the divine. The path… towards the forbidden."
She paused, letting her words hang in the air, the weight of them heavy and resonant. Then, she continued, her voice dropping to a near whisper, "The path, swordsman, that might even lead… to the undoing of gods."
Ares felt a jolt, as if struck by a cold current. The word, "gods," hung in the air between them, charged with unspoken significance.
"This path, swordsman, might even lead… to the undoing of gods," the old woman repeated, her voice lowered to a near whisper, almost a breath, yet striking Ares's heart like a hammer blow.
"The… undoing of gods?" Ares echoed the words, a disbelieving tremor in his voice. God-slaying? This thought had never even surfaced in his wildest dreams. Gods were beings who created attributes, established rules, and ruled the world. Mortals could only offer reverence and obedience to gods, how could one speak of their "undoing"?
He stared intently at the old woman before him, trying to find a trace of jest or madness in her face hidden in the shadows of her hood. But all he saw was a profound, abyss-like calm, and in her eyes, a resolve that burned like a faint, ethereal flame... steadfast.
"Who… who are you? Why are you telling me these things?" Ares asked, lowering his voice, his wariness not entirely dispelled, but the flame of curiosity and inquiry had been quietly ignited by the old woman's words.
The old woman did not answer immediately. Instead, she raised her head, glanced around the dimly lit streets, and after confirming that no one was nearby, spoke again, her voice even lower, even more mysterious: "My name… is not important. What matters is that I know your name, Ares. I know the power you possess, and the… doubt hidden in your heart."
She paused, then continued, "You question the divine oracle, question divine authority, even question… the meaning of the gods' existence. The seed of doubt has been planted in your heart, and it is… sprouting. And I, and those who walk with me, are the ones who will water this seed, allowing it to break through the soil, and eventually… grow into a towering tree."
"Those who walk with you?" Ares keenly caught the key phrase in the old woman's words. "You are not alone?"
A knowing smile flickered at the corners of the old woman's lips. "Naturally not. Did you think that by relying on the strength of one person alone, you could shake the foundations of the divine realm? To overturn this order that has lasted for millennia requires more… people who share the same doubts, share the same desires, share the same… courage."
She stepped closer, and in the dim light, Ares finally saw the half of her face revealed from under her hood. It was a face lined with wrinkles, weathered by time, but her eyes were extraordinarily bright, as if containing boundless wisdom and experience. In her eyes, there was no fanaticism, no ambition, only a calm and tenacious… conviction.
"We call ourselves… the 'Rift Covenant'," the old woman said softly. "We are a group of… people who have seen the rifts in the world, and are trying… to mend these rifts."
"The Rift Covenant?" Ares repeated the name softly, a vague feeling in his heart that he might have truly encountered something… extraordinary. An undercurrent that surpassed his previous understanding, even surpassed the superficial order of this world.
"Perhaps you do not yet understand what the 'Rift Covenant' is, what we want to do," the old woman seemed to see the doubt in Ares's heart, continuing, "But soon, you will understand. Because… you have already been drawn into this storm, unable to remain uninvolved."
She reached out her hand, the withered palm covered with the marks of time, yet carrying an indescribable… sense of power. "Join us, Ares. Join the 'Rift Covenant'. Together with us, explore the truth of the world, challenge the hypocrisy of divine authority, pursue… a future that belongs to humanity."
Ares fell silent. He looked at the old woman's outstretched hand, then raised his eyes to her calm and resolute gaze, various thoughts surging in his heart like a tide. Fear, unease, doubt, curiosity, anticipation, desire… all emotions finally converged into one voice, a voice that was becoming clearer and clearer, louder and louder in the depths of his heart.
The seed of doubt had sprouted. And now, it seemed a force was guiding this seed to break through the soil, to break free from all constraints, until… it touched that forbidden… sky.
He took a deep breath, suppressed all hesitation and unease in his heart, slowly reached out his hand, and grasped the wrinkled palm of the old woman.
"I… join," Ares said in a low voice, the sound light, yet carrying an unprecedented… firmness. He knew that at this moment, his life had completely bid farewell to the mediocrity and confusion of the past, stepping onto a path full of unknowns, and also full of… possibilities. A path leading to… the Name of the Forbidden.