Volume 2- The kingdom of Dain Ferris
"Dain… Dain Ferris?"
Elias' voice barely escaped his lips, but the name carried through the room like a ghost from the past.
The man in the red coat froze.
For a long moment, there was nothing but the flickering of dim candlelight, the low murmur of voices outside, and the silent weight of recognition settling between them.
Then—Dain turned.
His golden eyes—sharp, intelligent, far too knowing—locked onto Elias. The sword at his back glimmered under the faint glow of the underground city's lights. His posture remained composed, but something changed in his expression.
Shock. Disbelief. Wariness.
And something deeper.
A kind of fear.
"You…" Dain finally muttered. "How the hell did you survive?"
Elias' breath caught.
"Survive?"
He wasn't the only one confused.
Lyra and Callum tensed beside him, their bodies still adjusting to the overwhelming shift—from finding an underground city, to being face-to-face with a legend.
Dain took a slow step forward, one hand instinctively resting on the hilt of his sword. Elias saw it.
A movement not of attack—but of preparation.
A survivor's instinct.
"Who are you?" Dain demanded, his tone sharpened. "And how are you still alive?"
Elias exhaled slowly. He needed to calm this situation before it spiraled out of control.
"Look, I am the Forsaken Scholar from Veydris," Elias said. "I was the one who wrote about you and the other heros."
Dain's face twitched. His fingers curled tighter around his sword.
"Impossible."
He drew the blade in one swift motion, the edge catching the candlelight.
"No one from that kingdom survived. Not even the Heroes. They're all dead."
The words hit Elias like a physical blow.
"Not even the Heroes."
A part of him had already known that. Of course, he had known.
But hearing it from Dain himself—the last hero standing—made it real.
Lyra's dagger was in her hand in an instant. Her stance shifted, weight balanced, prepared to fight.
"Elias!" she hissed. "What the hell is going on?"
Before Elias could answer—Dain moved.
He didn't strike. He commanded.
"Guards!"
Within seconds, soldiers in iron-plated armor stormed into the room, their weapons raised.
Dain pointed at them. "Take them in."
Elias barely reacted as armored hands grabbed him from both sides, wrenching the diary from his grasp.
"Wait!" he protested, his voice rushed, desperate. "You have to listen to me! This is a misunderstanding!"
But Dain's expression hardened.
His gaze flicked to the diary. The moment he saw its worn cover, his eyes widened slightly. He reached out, grabbing it from the guard. He flipped through the pages, his breath catching.
"T-This… should not exist anymore. "
The weight of his words sank deep. Elias felt his stomach twist.
He knows something.
But before Elias could push further—Dain's resolve returned.
"Take them to the cells. We can't trust anything he's saying."
The words were final. Absolute.
Elias didn't fight it.
But Lyra did.
She twisted violently, slicing one of the soldier's hands before trying to bolt—
But Dain was faster.
In a single, effortless movement, he grabbed her by the arm, lifted her off the ground, and slammed her against the nearest wall.
The impact stunned her.
Dain didn't let go.
"Cooperate or die. You can't come to my city and do whatever you want."
His voice was calm. Empty.
Elias forced himself to breathe.
"Let them do whatever they want," he said firmly. "Don't resist."
Lyra's glare could have burned through steel.
But she didn't fight.
Not this time.
The underground city had beauty.
But the prison beneath it had nothing.
The air was damp, thick with the scent of rust and decay. The iron bars were old but unyielding. The guards—a mix of disciplined warriors and merciless survivors—shoved them inside with sneers.
"Enjoy your stay, rats," one of them muttered.
Then—the heavy door slammed shut.
For a long moment, no one spoke.
Then—Lyra moved.
She grabbed Elias by the collar, slamming him against the stone wall.
"What the fuck is happening!?"
Elias didn't fight back.
"You said we'd be safe here," she hissed. "Not locked up in a fucking cell!"
Elias had no answer.
Because she was right.
Callum grabbed Lyra's wrist, pulling her back. "Stop. This isn't helping."
Lyra scowled, but she let go, taking a step back.
Elias slowly slid down against the wall, his mind racing.
Dain wasn't just suspicious.
He was afraid.
And that—that terrified Elias more than anything.
Hours passed.
Then—the sound of boots on stone.
Dain.
He stopped in front of the cell, his expression unreadable.
Elias moved first, rushing to the bars, gripping them.
"You have to listen to me," he pleaded. "We didn't do anything wrong."
Dain studied him.
Then—he turned to the guards.
"Bring him to the private room, only him."
The room was dim, the single candle barely keeping the shadows at bay.
Elias sat in the center, wrists bound, the cold iron chains biting into his skin. Across from him, Dain Ferris stood still, unreadable. His golden eyes flickered in the firelight, watching Elias with a scrutiny that made his chest feel tight.
Then—Dain spoke.
"I watched you die."
Elias' breath caught.
Dain's voice wasn't cold. It wasn't mocking.
It was certain.
"I watched you die. Right in front of my eyes in the battle of Veydris."
The words felt like a knife to the gut.
"You can't be the forsaken scholar." Dain stepped forward, his boots echoing against the stone. "Then who the hell are you?"
Elias' fingers curled against the chair. His mind spun.
"Veydris was destroyed long before the Eclipse."
The candle flickered.
"So how are you alive?" Dain demanded.
Elias' lips parted.
But nothing came out.
He didn't know.
He should have known.
But he didn't.
He tried to remember what Dain meant but, empty.
He swallowed hard, his voice barely a whisper.
"I… don't remember."
Dain's expression darkened.
Silence stretched between them, heavy and unbearable.
Then—Dain exhaled sharply.
"This is not possible." His fingers curled into fists. "That scholar had no unnatural abilities. No ruin mark, No trace of the Calamity's mark."
His jaw tightened.
"But you do." he said pointing at Elias chest.
Elias' eyes widened.
"I'm not letting you out of here until I get my answers."
He turned, his coat sweeping behind him.
"Guards," he called, his voice even. "Make sure he talks."
Elias' stomach twisted.
A chilling laugh sounded from the entrance as three armored men stepped inside.
One cracked his knuckles. Another rolled his shoulders, smirking as he unsheathed a steel baton.
"With pleasure, Commander," one sneered.
Elias' breath quickened.
Dain didn't look back.
He simply walked out, closing the door behind him.
The lock clicked into place.
The first guard stepped forward, tapping his weapon against his palm.
"Now then," he grinned. "Let's loosen that tongue of yours, Forsaken Scholar."
Elias' body tensed.
His mind screamed.
But his lips only spoke one thing.
"Help me."
He closed his eyes, pleading.
"Please."
But the voice inside him—
Did not answer.