Elden staggered through the dense forest, each step a painful reminder of the battle he had barely survived. He walked slowly, stumbling over the snowy rocks on the ground. He was used to the cold, he had lived and trained in Bramhall all his life. The wound on his arm throbbed, a deep gash left by one of the Shadow Seekers. His vision blurred occasionally, but he pressed on, driven by a fierce determination to reach Yaveria and warn Aerin and Talon of the impending danger. He winced as the fabric of his armor brushed against his arm. It looked infected already. The shadow seekers used weapons Elden had never seen before, they were all black like the darkest of nights. Some kind of stone, but sharper than any steel he had encountered in his life in the army. The cut was deep and the flesh around it looked black, and it was spreading.

His mind drifted once again back to the fight. The Shadow Seekers had been relentless, their attacks precise and brutal. He had managed to fend them off, but at great cost. A few warriors from the village had come to help but as the Shadow seekers fought they all fell. The memory of their malevolent eyes, glowing with dark intent, sent a shiver down his spine. He knew they wouldn't stop until they had what they wanted—or who they wanted. Aerin. He heard Eleara talk about her magic to Talon. An old magic. It had to be her they were after. Bramhall had been raided years ago for old magical artifacts. None were left. Only Talon and Aerin were new additions to the village. And when he heard her talk about her magic, unknown magic. He knew as soon as the Shadow Seekers attacked. That they came for her.

Elden’s thoughts turned to her, the enigmatic young woman who had stirred something deep within him. He couldn’t quite explain it, but there was a pull, a connection that defied logic. Her bravery, her resilience, had left a mark on him. He had seen many people break under less pressure.

The journey was slow and grueling. The forest, clearings and snow covered lands, once a place of solace and strategy during his years as a knight, now seemed an endless labyrinth. Every rustle of rocks, every snap of a twig, set him on edge. He couldn’t afford to be ambushed again, not in his current state. He would not survive.

He had been a knight since his teenage years, thrust into the chaos of war and duty far too young. The battles he had fought, the comrades he had lost—they were all etched into his soul, scars that never truly healed. His black hair, usually tied back in a neat tail at the nape of his neck, was now disheveled, falling into his dark, brooding eyes. Those eyes, once filled with the fire of youth, now held the weight of countless battles and inner turmoil. He bore the soul of a much older man than he really was.

His home in Bramhall, the place that had once been his sanctuary. The village now lay in ruin, haunted by the Shadow Seekers. It pained him to think of it, to remember the peace they’d fought for, that had been shattered. The villagers had run to the higher training camps up in the mountain. Most of them got to safety. But he couldn’t dwell on the past. He had a mission, a duty to fulfill.

Elden paused to rest by a small stream, the cool icy water providing a brief respite from the burning pain in his side. The water rippled softly along the current, some ice caps floated along. He stopped to drink and wash himself after the ambush in Bramhall. As he washed his wound, as he winced he couldn’t help but think of Aerin again. There was something about her, something that called to the deepest parts of him. Her magic was powerful, ancient, and it scared her. He understood that fear, the weight of something inside you that you couldn’t fully control. His own inner battles, the constant tug-of-war between duty and his own desires, mirrored her struggle. He had a duty, a mission. That he now couldn't face. Because of her. He knew he had to, he was obligated but… how could he?

His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden rustling nearby. Instinctively, he reached for his sword, every muscle tensing. his wounds stretched. But it was just a deer, darting through the underbrush, running towards the stream. Elden let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding, relaxing slightly. His tense shoulders relaxed slightly. He needed to stay focused, to reach Yaveria and warn them.

The forest felt colder now, more oppressive in its silence. Elden moved slowly, his steps measured and deliberate, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts. He pressed a hand against the wound on his arm, feeling the searing heat beneath the fabric. The skin had turned black almost to his elbow, the taint of the Shadow Seekers spreading through him like poison.

But he kept walking.

He didn’t have time to stop, didn’t have time to let himself be overtaken by the creeping numbness in his arm. Yaveria was close, and with every step, the distance between him and Aerin grew shorter.

Aerin.

Her name echoed in his mind, as if the very sound of it could tether him to something real, something that wasn’t the pain or the darkness threatening to pull him under. He clenched his jaw, pushing the thought away.

She shouldn’t matter.

She wasn’t supposed to matter.

Elden stumbled, catching himself against the trunk of a tree. The forest spun around him for a moment, the world tilting as his vision blurred. He looked down at his arm, the blackened skin creeping further up toward his elbow. He needed to stop, to treat it, but he couldn’t afford the time. Not with what waited for him in Yaveria.

He was sent for her.

The mission. The one thing that had driven him for so long, the one purpose that had carried him through every obstacle, every bloody battle. And yet… now, with every step closer to her, it felt like a weight he didn’t want to bear.

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She was powerful. More powerful than he’d imagined. But it wasn’t just that.

Elden could still see her in his mind’s eye, the way she looked at him when she’d first woken up—those sharp, calculating eyes hiding something deeper, something broken. And gods, she was beautiful, in a way that made it hard to breathe when he was near her.

A part of him wanted to protect her, to keep her safe, to be the one standing by her side as she faced whatever demons haunted her. But another part—the part that had been honed by years of duty and bloodshed—whispered that she was dangerous. That his attraction to her was a distraction. A threat to his mission.

He cursed under his breath, pushing away from the tree and continuing forward. The ground beneath him was uneven, roots twisting like the tangled thoughts in his mind. He couldn’t let himself fall for her. He couldn’t let himself be swayed by something so... foolish.

But that smile, the softness in her eyes when she looked at him—was it real? Was it something he could trust? Or was she just another obstacle, another threat that needed to be dealt with?

The conflicted thoughts gnawed at him, twisting the mission he’d been given into something darker, more uncertain.

He felt a pulse of pain in his arm, and his vision swam again. The taint was spreading faster now. His strength was fading. Elden gritted his teeth, focusing on the path ahead, on the lights of Yaveria in the distance. He had to make it. He had to see her again.

And when he did—what then?

He wasn’t sure. And that uncertainty, that unfamiliar feeling of not knowing what he wanted, terrified him more than any enemy he’d ever faced.

As the sun began to set behind the thick set of clouds, creating a weary light, Elden finally saw the familiar outskirts of Yaveria. The snow was almost gone from the ground as the temperature down here was much warmer. He reached the river and the long bridge over it. Relief washed over him, but it was tempered by the urgency of his mission. Every step over the bridge felt heavy, the river below was dark and gloomy. It was as if the earth and air and sky sensed what was going on. He needed to find Aerin and Talon, to tell them everything he had learned, everything he feared. About her magic, The Shadow Seekers.

Stumbling into the capital of Enderris, Elden ignored the curious and concerned looks from the people. He made his way to the main square. If he could find them, this was the best place to start.

The first light of dawn cast a pale glow over Yaveria, the capital still cloaked in the quiet stillness of early morning. Elden trudged through the cobblestone streets, his steps heavy with exhaustion but his resolve unwavering. The city was a labyrinth of narrow alleys and winding pathways, its ancient stone buildings rising like sentinels against the encroaching daylight.

Elden’s dark eyes scanned the empty streets, the occasional flicker of a lantern the only sign of life. His breath formed small clouds in the crisp morning air.. He needed to find Aerin and Talon, to warn them of the danger that loomed ever closer.

The first place he approached was a small bakery, the sweet scent of freshly baked bread wafting through the air. The baker, a stout woman with flour-dusted hands, looked up in surprise as Elden entered. His imposing figure and battle-worn appearance seemed out of place in the quaint, cozy shop. The smell of the bakery filled his nose, the heat from the kitchen burning against his still cold, icy skin.

“Excuse me,” Elden said, his voice low and gravelly. “I’m looking for Aerin and Talon. Do you know where I might find them?”

The baker shook her head, her eyes widening slightly. “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t know them. You might have better luck at the inn down the road.” Her accent was thick, reminding him of the Island Thalindria. He studied there briefly, he had no magic of his own but he needed to know about it to lead his armies, to know about the challenges they could face.

Elden nodded to her and continued his search, each step feeling heavier than the last. His legs throbbed with pain and his wounds stung as the fabric of his armor graced over them. The streets were beginning to stir, a few early risers going about their business, but the city was still largely asleep. He stopped at a few more shops and stalls, each time receiving the same puzzled looks and apologetic answers. Aerin must have lived a very quiet life here as no one knows of her.

As he walked, Elden couldn’t help but notice the beauty of Yaveria. The city, with its intricate architecture and rich history, was a stark contrast to the chaos and destruction he had witnessed in Bramhall. The stone buildings were adorned with climbing ivy and colorful flowers, and the air was filled with the distant sounds of birds greeting the dawn. Yet, beneath the surface, Elden could sense a tension, a palpable unease that mirrored his own.

Finally, he reached a small tavern on the edge of the town. The sign above the door creaked in the morning breeze, and the windows glowed with the warm light of a fire within. Elden pushed open the heavy wooden door, the creak of the hinges announcing his arrival.

Inside, the tavern was dimly lit, the faint smell of ale and smoke lingering in the air. The few patrons present were hunched over their drinks, bleary-eyed and silent. Behind the bar, a grizzled man with a weathered face and a knowing gaze looked up as Elden approached.

“What can I do for you, stranger?” the bartender asked, his voice rough but not unkind.

“I’m looking for Aerin and Talon,” Elden replied, leaning heavily on the bar. “I have been looking everywhere. Do you know where I might find them?”

The bartender’s eyes narrowed slightly as he studied Elden. “Aerin, you say? She stays here sometimes. But lately, she’s been spending time with her friend Mara. Lives by the main square. You can’t miss it. Her building is surrounded by a large herb garden.”

Elden nodded, relief washing over him. “Thank you,” he said, turning to leave. Would he finally meet them again?

As he stepped back into the street, the sun had fully risen, casting a golden hue over the city. The streets were beginning to bustle with activity, the once-quiet alleys now filled with the sounds of merchants setting up their stalls and townsfolk going about their morning routines.

Elden made his way towards the main square of Yaveria, where he began his search, the directions from the bartender clear in his mind. A garden. He would look for a large herb garden. The journey was not far, but each step felt like an eternity, the urgency of his mission pressing heavily upon him. His footsteps against the gravel on the ground felt heavy and restrained. As he approached the square, the sounds of the city were clear, gentle and the distant murmur of the river sang like an ancient lullaby.

Mara’s garden and building came into view, a quaint, welcoming sight amidst the greenery. A herb garden. Elden’s heart pounded in his chest as he walked up to the door and knocked, the sound echoing in the quiet morning air. Elden stood before the heavy wooden door of Mara's house. It had been several days since the setback in Bramhall, and every minute had been filled with worry and questions, and pain. The Shadow Seekers had ambushed him, their swords of the blackest stone cutting through his defenses like a knife through parchment. The wounds they inflicted burned with an unnatural fire, and his arm throbbed with a pain that threatened to overwhelm him. Blood dripped steadily from the gash on his side, staining the ground a dark crimson.

When the door opened and Aerin stood there, her eyes widening in surprise and relief, Elden felt a surge of emotion he hadn’t expected. He had found her. And now, as he stepped into the warmth of Mara’s home, he knew that their battle was far from over.

His large, strong frame cast a long shadow in the doorway as he knocked, his dark eyes scanning the interior. As he stepped inside, the weight of his news pressed heavily on him. There was no time for rest, no time for peace. They needed to prepare for what was coming.

“Elden!” Aerin exclaimed, her voice a mix of astonishment and concern. “You’re hurt!”

Aerin’s eyes widened in shock as they took in his disheveled appearance and the blood-soaked bandages that did little to stem the flow of his life force.

“Elden!” Aerin’s voice was a mix of fear and urgency as she reached out to steady him. “What happened?”

“The shadow seekers…” he managed to gasp out before his knees buckled. He fell forward, barely conscious as the world tilted and darkened around him. He felt strong arms catch him, and then everything went black.