The night had grown dense. The moonlight cast a faint glow over the battlefield, resembling a vast graveyard, yet it failed to conceal the horrors of the blood-soaked earth. The war had ended. Silence had settled in every direction. For the first time since victory, the warriors could finally breathe in peace. The entire troupe was celebrating atop the hill, reveling in their triumph.
A short distance away, she stood still, gripping her sword tightly, her gaze fixed on the battlefield. She stared unblinkingly, devoid of any visible emotion.
A voice called out from behind—soft yet carrying an unmistakable chiller
"You are still here? Come Everyone is waiting for you"
It was Orlun.
Orlun, the Shadowborn—Leader of the Southern Magical Beings. A being shrouded in mystery, his presence carried the weight of ancient power. With piercing eyes that seemed to see through one's very soul and a voice that sent shivers down spines, he was both feared and revered.
Xiyara turned to look at him and smiled.
" this battlefield. ....it brings peace to me" Her voice was laced with an eerie satisfaction.
"Victory grant peace to all.what's so special about that?"Orlun asked, his voice calm yet laced with a quiet intrigue.
He sat on a weathered stone, one of the many that lay scattered across the battlefield, remnants of what once might have been a fortress or a temple—now reduced to nothing but ruins. The moon cast long shadows, making the cracks on the stone appear deeper, like scars from a battle long forgotten. The air was thick with the lingering scent of blood and smoke, yet eerily still, as if the very land was holding its breath.
Xiyara exhaled softly, her gaze unwavering as she let her fingers trail over the hilt of her sword. A smile played on her lips, not of joy, but of certainty.
"Perhaps.....but this bloodstain battelfield,these cries of fallen that still seem to echo in the wind ...they whisper to me, telling me i am worthy.that i was born to win" Her voice held an unusual warmth—pride, even—as if she found solace in the destruction she had brought. Her golden eyes gleamed under the moonlight, reflecting nothing but a warrior's unshaken resolve.
Orlun's gaze darkened, the faintest trace of worry flickering in his otherwise unreadable expression.
"You shouldn't bask in your own glory so recklessly ,xiyara"he said, his tone quieter now, almost as if cautioning her. " when a person climbs too high,the fall is always devastating, I fear that one day...."
He stopped mid-sentence, as if realizing he had said too much.
Xiyara turned sharply, her expression shifting in an instant. The softness that usually lingered in her features was gone. In its place was something sharper, something dangerous. Her piercing gaze locked onto him, her jaw tightening ever so slightly.
Orlun had seen many faces of Xiyara before, but at this moment, she looked different—almost unrecognizable.
Orlun hesitated for a moment, his usual composed demeanor faltering ever so slightly. His gaze flickered toward Xiyara, searching for any hint of how she had taken his words. A rare uncertainty settled in his voice as he exhaled, the weight of his own statement pressing down on him.
"I...apologize , leader.perhaps i spoke too much" His voice, though usually steady, carried an unusual hesitance, as if he was second-guessing himself—something he rarely did.
Xiyara didn't respond immediately. The silence between them stretched, thick with unspoken thoughts. Then, without another word, she shifted her stance, her grip loosening on the hilt of her sword. She took a deep breath, allowing the cold night air to fill her lungs before finally turning away from the battlefield.
"Come on ,everyone' s gathered together"
Her tone was lighter now, decisive. With that, she stepped forward, her movements fluid and composed, as if shedding the weight of the moment just as easily as she had embraced the bloodshed earlier. The lingering scent of iron and ash clung to her, yet she walked ahead with an air of quiet dominance, ready to join the others.
The battlefield behind them was a stark contrast to the lively fire that now crackled at the heart of their camp. Warriors sat in clusters, their armor loosened, their faces lit by the flickering flames as they indulged in the rare moment of peace.
Amidst the hum of conversation and the occasional clinking of weapons being set aside, an excited voice rang out.
"Hey,xiyara! Orlun! Come here, quick! Look, i caught a bear in the jungle!"
Eira's eyes sparkled with delight as she gestured toward them, her expression brimming with mischief and pride. Strands of her silver hair glowed under the firelight, contrasting against her dark battle-worn attire. Unlike most warriors in the troupe, she carried an air of untamed wilderness, a reflection of her origins—half-human, half-magic being from the North. Her deep blue eyes, reminiscent of frozen lakes, carried both the wildness of the mountains and the wisdom of the old world.
Orlun raised an eyebrow, his usual impassive expression betraying mild curiosity, while Xiyara smirked before striding toward her.
Zihan, who had been casually sharpening his blade, looked up and let out a chuckle. He leaned back slightly, resting an arm over his bent knee, a teasing glint in his dark amber eyes.
"Do you love hunting that much,eira?" His tone was laced with amusement, a slow smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.
Zihan—Second-in-Command of the King's Fang—was a man of precision and power, his every movement calculated. His dark hair was slightly disheveled, the result of a long battle, but his composure remained unshaken. Though he often carried a serious demeanor, moments like these revealed a more playful side
Eira scoffed, placing a hand on her hip.
"Its not just about hunting ,you diwit.its about the thrill, the challenge! You wouldn't understand"She flipped her hair dramatically before pointing at the creature behind her.
And indeed, there it was—a massive black bear, tied and struggling against the thick magical bindings wrapped around its limbs. The poor beast huffed, its eyes darting around in confusion, too stunned to even roar properly.
Before Zihan could counter her argument, Xiyara laughed, her voice light and easy—a rare sound after the chaos of war. She walked over and dropped down beside Zihan, nudging him slightly with her shoulder as she settled in.
" haha, stop teasing zihan"
She stretched out her legs, leaning back on her arms, letting the warmth of the fire seep into her battle-weary body. Her golden eyes, still sharp with the thrill of battle, softened as she took in the camaraderie around her.
For the first time in what felt like ages, there was no urgency, no bloodlust—just laughter, flickering flames, and the comfort of being among trusted companions.
The night had grown even darker. The flickering flames of the fire cast a soft glow, illuminating the warriors seated around it. Their laughter, once lively, had begun to fade, replaced by the quiet weight of exhaustion. The battle had drained them, yet the thrill of victory still lingered in the air.
Then, the distant sound of galloping hooves pierced the silence. The rhythmic pounding grew louder, shattering the stillness of the night. A lone rider emerged from the thick fog, his silhouette illuminated by the moonlight. The royal emblem gleamed on his attire, yet his horse was drenched in sweat and dust, as if he had ridden tirelessly for miles without rest.
He pulled the reins sharply as he reached the center of the camp, his breath heavy, chest rising and falling with exertion. For a moment, he simply stood there, regaining his composure before dismounting. Without hesitation, he strode toward Xiyara, his expression tense, worry etched into his features.
"Leadee of the king's fang,"his voice was firm, yet an underlying unease tainted his words. " i bring an urgent message. From his majwsty .you are ordered to return to the capital immediately"
A sudden chill crept into the air. Despite the fire's warmth, an eerie stillness settled over the camp.
Xiyara fixed her sharp gaze upon him, her expression unreadable. She remained motionless, but in that brief silence, countless thoughts must have raced through her mind. Behind her, Zihan and Orlun exchanged glances, their relaxed demeanor shifting to quiet vigilance.
The peace that had embraced the camp moments ago had now transformed into an unsettling tension. A direct summons from the king… this could not be a simple order.