Dawn broke over Dawnmist Village, casting golden light through the silver leaves. The morning air was crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth and lingering mist.
Arya stood at the village's edge, wearing a simple cloak gifted by one of the villagers. It was light yet warm enough for the long journey ahead. A small pouch containing provisions was fastened to his belt, while the crystal he had received in the Chamber of Light rested securely in his pocket.
Beside him, Lira checked her gear with practiced efficiency. Twin daggers rested at her waist, and a leather pouch—likely filled with potions or supplies—hung from her side.
"Are you ready?" she asked without looking at him.
Arya exhaled slowly. He didn't know if he was ready, but he didn't have a choice.
"Yeah," he said.
Lira nodded toward the path leading out of the village. "Then let's go."
They walked past the village gate, where a few elves had gathered to watch. Most remained silent, their expressions unreadable.
Elder Eltheris stood at the entrance, his wooden staff visible beneath his cloak. He studied Arya for a long moment before speaking.
"Remember this, young one," he said in his wise, steady tone. "Fate does not bind you. It is your choices that will determine how this story ends."
Arya nodded, though he wasn't sure he fully understood those words yet.
Lira said nothing, only offering a small bow of respect before stepping forward.
Without looking back, they left the village behind.
A Changing Forest
They walked in silence. This time, Arya felt more alert.
Something in the air had changed.
Last night, the Silverlight Forest had felt peaceful, despite the lurking shadow creatures. But this morning, the forest was too quiet.
"Lira," Arya finally spoke, "this place… feels different."
Lira gave a small nod. "I feel it too. Normally, the morning birds would be singing by now. But there hasn't been a single sound."
Arya swallowed hard. "Does that mean something is watching us?"
Lira didn't answer immediately. She simply quickened her pace and motioned for Arya to stay close.
Soon, they reached the forest's edge, where the trees thinned, revealing an open landscape. In the distance, Arya could see the towering peaks of the Everfrost Mountains, their summits veiled in mist, shimmering under the morning sun.
But before they could step further, Lira abruptly stopped.
Arya nearly bumped into her. "Hey, what—"
Lira raised a hand, signaling for silence.
Her violet eyes scanned the trees, her body tense.
Then Arya heard it.
A rustling from the shadows of the trees. Fast, light footsteps.
Something was tracking them.
Lira slowly drew her daggers. "Get ready," she whispered.
Arya's pulse quickened. "What is it?"
Lira didn't answer. She was focused on the shadows, waiting.
Then, from the underbrush, a dark figure lunged.
A creature covered in jet-black fur, the size of a wolf, its eyes glowing red, its fangs dripping with an inky black substance.
It growled, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth.
Arya took a step back, his heart pounding. "That's… not a normal wolf, is it?"
Lira narrowed her eyes. "No. That's a Dark Hound. A scout for Morkath."
A chill ran through Arya's spine.
The creature crouched low, preparing to strike.
And in an instant, it attacked.
Lira reacted first, leaping aside and slashing her dagger. But the Hound was fast—it twisted midair, dodging her strike before turning toward Arya.
Arya barely had time to move. He stumbled backward as the Hound lunged straight at him.
In panic, his hand instinctively reached for the crystal in his pocket.
The moment his fingers touched it—
The world shifted.
Time slowed.
Arya could see the Hound's movements before they happened.
And suddenly, he knew what to do.
His body moved faster than it should have. He sidestepped at the last second, the Hound's fangs missing him by inches.
As it landed, Arya's eyes locked onto a faint pulse of light near its throat—its weak point.
"Lira! Strike beneath its neck!" he shouted, acting on instinct.
Lira hesitated only a moment before reacting. She dashed forward, her dagger flashing in a swift arc.
The blade struck exactly where Arya had seen.
The Hound let out a piercing shriek. Its body trembled violently before collapsing, dissolving into black mist.
Silence returned to the forest.
Arya stood frozen, his breath unsteady. He could still feel the lingering energy of the crystal, how time had slowed, how he had seen the path of battle before it happened.
Lira was staring at him.
"That was…" She exhaled sharply. "How did you know where to strike?"
Arya swallowed, his hands still shaking. "I… don't know."
Lira studied him for a long moment before finally sheathing her daggers.
"It seems we need to learn more about your power," she said. "But for now, we keep moving. If there's one Hound, there will be more."
Arya nodded slowly. He didn't know how he had done that just now. But one thing was becoming clear—
This world was showing him that he did have a role to play.
And he had to be ready for whatever came next.