Damp earth and pine filled the air as we made our way through the dense forest, the narrow dirt path winding between towering trees. The storm from the night before had left the ground slick, and the sky above remained a sullen gray, threatening more rain. Kendril led the way, on foot his horse pulling the cart I had made home, for the last few days, I followed a few paces behind, still feeling the weight of my injuries but growing stronger with each day.

The journey had been quiet, too quiet for my liking. Every rustle of leaves, every creak of a tree branch set my nerves on edge. There was an unspoken tension in the air, as if something was watching us from the shadows. Kendril, for all his silence, seemed alert, too. His hand never strayed far from the hilt of the dagger at his side.

"How far is the next village?" I asked, my voice low, not wanting to break the stillness too much.

Kendril didn’t turn around, but his voice carried back to me clearly. "Half a day's walk, if we’re lucky."

I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. The weight of everything that had happened—Sophia, Reece, the enforcers—still hung over me like a cloud, suffocating every thought, every breath. Sophia’s face flickered in my mind, the sound of her humming a melody as she fed the animals, and then the image twisted, becoming the nightmare of her last moments. Her body crumpled to the ground, lifeless. A chill ran through me. Had Villias seen this coming? Was this all part of some grand plan he never bothered to share with me?

I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had been a pawn in some larger scheme—used by forces I couldn’t yet understand. Sophia had paid the price, and for what? To push me further along some path I didn’t choose? The idea clawed at my insides, gnawing at the remnants of guilt that still festered in my soul. If Villias had foreseen this, then why hadn’t he warned me? Why hadn’t he given me the chance to stop it?

I thought of the Faye and the magic they had taught me, the delicate balance of light weaving, the ancient whispers that I had once thought would guide me. But now those lessons felt distant, hollow, like a forgotten dream. What had all of that been for? To watch the people I cared about die? My mind flashed back to the endless forests of the Faye realm, the strange and magical paths that twisted and turned, leading me always to new revelations, new challenges. Now, it felt like I had wandered too far off the path, into a darkness that had no end.

The future felt uncertain, like a ship adrift on an endless, stormy sea. What lay ahead? Could I even trust Kendril?

As we rounded a bend, the path ahead narrowed, flanked by dense thickets of bramble and gnarled trees. The wind whistled through the branches, carrying a chill that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

Without warning, Kendril stopped in his tracks, his head tilting slightly as if listening for something. His eyes scanned the treetops, narrowing in suspicion. My stomach tightened in response.

“Trouble,” he muttered under his breath, his hand now firmly on his dagger.

Before I could ask what he meant, figures emerged from the woods—half a dozen men, all armed with crude weapons, their faces smeared with dirt and malice. Bandits. Or worse, Arcana scouts. I couldn’t tell, but they were here for blood.

“Looks like we’ve got some company,” one of them sneered, stepping forward. His sword was rusty, but it was still sharp enough to kill. “Hand over your valuables, and we might let you keep your tongues.”

Kendril’s stance shifted subtly, his muscles tensing as he prepared for a fight. I could feel the change in the air around him, a low hum of energy building. Something was about to happen.

“You really don’t want to do this,” Kendril said, his voice calm, but there was a dangerous edge to it.

The bandits laughed, their leader stepping closer. “Oh, I think we do. Now, hand over—”

He never got to finish his sentence.

With a flick of his wrist, Kendril raised his hand, and the wind responded. A sudden gust whipped through the trees, fierce and unnatural, sending leaves and debris flying. The bandits stumbled, caught off guard, but before they could recover, Kendril made a sweeping gesture, and the very air around us seemed to come alive.

The wind howled, swirling around Kendril like a living force. I watched in stunned silence as razor-sharp currents of air sliced through the bandits with terrifying precision. One man was thrown against a tree, his weapon clattering to the ground, while another was lifted off his feet, his body spinning in the air before being hurled into the underbrush. Blood sprayed across the forest floor as the wind cut through them like invisible blades.

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It was over in moments.

The few that were left alive scrambled to their feet, their faces pale with terror, and fled into the woods, leaving their fallen comrades behind. The wind died down as quickly as it had risen, the forest falling eerily silent once more.

Kendril stood still, his breathing labored, his eyes distant as if he was somewhere else entirely. The power he had wielded, the sheer force of the elements bending to his will—it was unlike anything I had ever seen.

I stared at him, awe-struck and speechless.

“Kendril… what was that?” I finally managed to ask, my voice hoarse.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he bent down to retrieve his dagger, sheathing it with a practiced motion. When he looked at me, his face was drawn, pale. The magic had taken something from him, drained him in a way that seemed to go beyond just physical exhaustion.

“That,” he said through laboured breaths, “is why I stay away from people.”

I frowned, confused. “I’ve never seen magic like that. You… you control the wind?”

Kendril chuckled, though there was no humor in it. “Not control. Borrow, maybe. Command, when I’m lucky.” He shook his head, wiping a hand over his brow. “It’s not as simple as it looks.”

I stepped closer, trying to piece together what I had just witnessed. “You’re stronger than you let on. Why hide it?”

He finally sat down, leaning against a fallen tree, his eyes dark with memories I couldn’t even begin to guess at. “Because magic like this comes at a cost. I’m not the only one who can wield it, and there are those who’d do far worse than what you saw today. The Arcana, for one. But before them, there was a group—people like me. The Forgotten, we called ourselves.”

“The Forgotten?” I repeated, the name foreign yet oddly familiar.

“We were magic users who fled before the Arcana took control. We hid, scattered to the winds, each of us trying to survive in a world that now hunts us. I’ve been hiding ever since, avoiding places of power, avoiding... people like you.” His gaze met mine then, piercing and knowing. “You have power too, Ragan. More than you realize.”

I opened my mouth to deny it, but Kendril raised a hand, silencing me.

“I’ve seen it in you,” he said. “The way you hold back. You’ve got more than just a little magic in you, and you’re trying to keep it buried. But you can’t hide it forever.”

His words settled over me like a weight, and I couldn’t deny the truth in them. I had been hiding—both from the world and from myself. The magic inside me, the power I had tried so hard to suppress, was there, waiting. And now, with everything that had happened, it was stirring again.

Kendril stood, brushing off the dust from his cloak, his energy slowly returning. His sharp gaze lingered on me, assessing, calculating. "What are you?" he asked, his voice low but deliberate. "Bloodburn, maybe? A Windgeist like me? Or perhaps a Waterworker? There are many kinds, each tied to something deep within—the breath, the blood, the water in your body, even the bones themselves."

I blinked, taken aback by the question. "I... I don't know," I admitted, my voice uncertain. "I’ve used magic before—light weaving, they called it—but lately... What's happened recently... it felt different. Darker, heavier. I can’t explain it, but it’s not like anything I’ve done before."

Kendril's eyes narrowed as he studied me, the flicker of recognition passing through his gaze. "Something different," he murmured, half to himself. "Light weaving, something far older, more dangerous."

I could feel the weight of his scrutiny as though he were peeling back layers of me to glimpse at something deeper, something I hadn’t yet understood myself. The way his jaw clenched, the way his eyes widened for the briefest moment—it was as if he’d stumbled upon the very thing he’d been searching for all along.

"You're more than just an average magic user," Kendril said, a strange glint in his eye. "You're the power I've been looking for."

His words sent a chill through me. There was something in his tone, a guarded excitement, that made my skin crawl. What had he seen in me that I couldn’t see myself? And why did it feel like he wasn’t telling me everything?

He quickly masked his interest, his voice returning to its usual measured calm. "Come with me," he said. "There's a sanctuary in the mountains. Hidden, safe—a place where people like us can learn what we are, what we're truly capable of. It's not far, and maybe, just maybe, there’s something there that can help you understand."

I hesitated, unsure. "And what happens after that?"

Kendril shrugged, his face unreadable. "That’s up to you. But if you want answers—real answers—this is where you’ll find them."

I stared at him, my mind spinning with the weight of his offer. There were so many things I didn’t know, things I needed to understand about myself, about this power simmering just beneath the surface. The world I had once known had been burned to ashes, and what remained was riddled with questions. But could I trust Kendril? He was keeping something from me, of that much I was certain. Still, if he had answers, if this sanctuary could help...

I glanced back toward the horizon, knowing there was nothing left for me but broken memories.

"Alright," I said, my voice steady, though the uncertainty still lingered within me. "Let's go."

Kendril nodded, his expression tight with something I couldn’t quite read. "Good," he said softly. "We leave at first light."