The fury coursing through me threatened to tip me into the abyss of insanity. Flames seemed to engulf my mind, and my heart raced at an uncontrollable pace. Standing over Akibrus's lifeless body, the murderer grumbled before turning to face me. In that chaotic moment, the only coherent thought was an overwhelming desire for vengeance. The killer charged at me.

At that moment, an indomitable force enveloped me. The knight swung his sword, but I effortlessly parried, unleashing a primal scream that could have stirred the departed. With ferocious intensity, I brought my sword down upon his head, the force cleaving it in half, leaving his right eye hanging from the socket.

Yanking my sword free, I braced for the impending onslaught. Other knights of Kane emerged from my smoke spell, launching a relentless attack. Though I deflected their flurry of strikes, my rage alone couldn't overcome their skill. I managed to strike one, his blood staining the grass, but amidst the chaos, Klayden and Roger were nowhere to be found.

How could they abandon Shael and me?

As I singlehandedly confronted the Knights, the tragic fates of my companions replayed in my mind. Their lives were violently snuffed out.

Impending doom loomed as a knight lunged at me, but adrenaline-fueled bloodlust allowed me to deflect the sword with my bracers. I retaliated by thrusting my sword into the face of the assailant, breaching his armor. Yet, my sword became lodged.

Now unarmed, I faced the reality of avenging my fallen comrades without a weapon. Racing to a devastated Shael, her disheveled appearance reflected the anguish in her eyes. I grabbed her shoulders, locking eyes with her.

"Shael, we don't have time for tears. If we die, we take them down with us!"

A heavy onslaught from the approaching knights drew nearer. Shael wiped away tears, unsheathing her sword with determination.

"I'm fine now!" she declared, facing the oncoming threat.

Without warning, she screamed, "Vile au!" The unleashed force surpassed all previous spells, violently blasting the knights away, toppling trees and revealing roots.

Kane, undeterred, pointed his staff at Shael, surviving her magical onslaught. Frustration gripped me as I shifted my focus back to Shael. She stood, arm outstretched, bleeding profusely from the nose. I ran to her.

"Shael, lend me your sword."

Without warning, she collapsed, bloodied and unconscious. Panic surged through me, but her warm breath against my cheek brought relief. I cradled her head, took her weapon, and channeled my escalating anger into a desperate magical surge.

Charging at the Skull-knight, ice darts struck, less refined than before. A black circular smoke cloud signaled his escape. In a final act, I hurled Shael's sword, but he vanished into thin air. The infuriation within me boiled over.

"That coward...that fucking coward!" I exclaimed, dropping to my knees. My pleas to Adite for justice echoed in the air.

Amidst the aftermath of Shael's devastating attack, I wept for the fallen. The twitching body of a witch soldier held no sway over my emotions. My gaze lingered on Akibrius's half-staring corpse, contemplating his pain.

Interrupted by the distant galloping of multiple horses, I scrambled to find my sword. Relief flooded me as Roger, Klayden, and the Sacred Hand knights arrived. Exhausted, I dropped to my knees in gratitude.

The knights dismounted, drawing their swords. One man, commanding attention, stood out with white hair and regal armor adorned with the symbol of the Sacred Hand order. His swift steps and imposing presence marked him as the leader.

His hair, white as snow, lay messily on his head; however, his neatly trimmed beard presented a stark contrast. Despite his age, his steps were swift and lively. The expensive and well-crafted armor adorned with the symbol of the Sacred Hand order—a hand gripping the hilt of a sword—enhanced his imposing figure. The shoulder guard on his right arm, almost as large as his head and close to his neck, was connected to a black cape, while the layered pauldron allowed for a wide range of movement, stopping at his elbow. Massive gauntlets adorned his hands.

"Alright, men! Spread out and secure the area!" he commanded loudly.

Roger and Klayden rushed toward me. "Zarek!" Roger shouted. "Thank the gods you are alive!"

They both stopped in front of me, panting heavily. "Where's Shael?" Klayden asked, scanning the surroundings.

Although happy to see them, a wave of sadness washed over me. I pointed in the direction where Shael lay. "You guys need to get her to a healer, quickly!"

We hurried to Shael, blood covering her nose and mouth. "What happened to her?" Roger asked, concern evident in his voice.

"She overextended herself."

Klayden looked to our left, inhaling sharply at the sight of Akilbrus's split body. A single tear rolled down Roger's face, quickly wiped away as he released a shaky sigh. "Never thought they would die here like this," he said, shaking his head.

Roger sprang to his feet, dark circles under his eyes revealing exhaustion and stress. "Nothing we can do for them now. Shael is here; let's make sure it stays that way."

Klayden and I nodded in agreement. I supported Shael's head and back, while Klayden cradled her lower back and legs. Roger approached the division commander, engaging in conversation and pointing toward us. With a nod from the commander, Roger ran back to us.

"Bring her to the healer," Roger instructed.

Approaching, we found a blanket lying on the ground. Klayden and I carefully lowered Shael. I fervently hoped she would survive.

Taking a deep breath, I surveyed the scene. The Knights of the Sacred Hand were piling the dead witch soldiers, preparing for burning. The once-silent forest now echoed with the sounds of men talking, replacing the previous clash of combat.

As Akibrus's split body was wrapped in cloth, Caldor's remains lay scattered. Startled by a voice behind me, I turned.

"What happened to her, young man?" inquired a familiar voice.

The healer who attended to us after the ceremony stooped next to Shael, placing a box beside her head. "What happened?" he asked again.

"It seems she overworked herself. She unleashed a powerful blast of magic—saved my life!"

He gently placed his hand on her cheek, sympathy in his eyes. "Ah, poor girl! She experienced mana drain," he diagnosed.

I nodded, gazing at her. "Will she be okay?" I asked.

"Don't worry, lad," he assured, removing his hand. "From what I sensed, she's out cold—nothing major."

Relief washed over me. If anything happened to her, I would have been devastated. Klayden, sitting on a stump, listened intently. He approached, swinging his arms.

"Zarek, the company commander wants to speak with you," Klayden said.

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. "What does he want me for?" I asked, a hint of fear creeping in.

Klayden shrugged, scratching his head. Before he could answer, a burst of flames interrupted us. I winced and turned to see the source, but the smell revealed it before I could fully turn. The bodies were burning, and the scent resembled beef. Blocking the heat with my hand, Klayden gestured for me to follow.

Heading toward the squad commander, we found him in conversation with three knights around a makeshift table. Upon noticing us, he raised his hand, silencing the knights and shooing them away. Gesturing for us to come forward, he spoke sternly.

"Not you! Blond-haired boy! The scarlet-eyed boy, come forward."

I stood before the table, giving a low bow. The commander's seriousness made my nerves flare.

"Is Zarek your name?" the man inquired, his gaze penetrating.

"Yes, that is indeed my name, my lord," I affirmed.

He nodded and placed his hands on the table, leaning towards me with a keen interest.

"Were you in charge of this unit?" he asked as he retrieved a paper, withdrew a quiver, dipped it in ink, and commenced to write.

"I am the leader of this unit, yes!" I replied.

He nodded again, his scribbling intensifying.

"I would like to know the names and the number of individuals in your squad, along with their unfortunate predicaments," he requested.

I sighed, my voice heavy with the weight of sorrow. "The total number is seven. Among them are Dagen Gaimbert, who drowned in a river; Akibrus Bailight, who was split down the middle by the enemy; Caldor Dumieres, who was obliterated by a sword mage; Shael Vesculbo," I gestured towards her, "she experienced mana drain, but she is still alive."

The commander wore a sympathetic expression. "It's a shame you had to experience this at such an age, lad," he said, sighing and sealing the letter with his quill. "Continue."

A lump formed in my throat as I spoke their names, vividly recalling their gruesome deaths. Swallowing the lump, I pressed on.

"Behind me is Klayden Umber, and finally Roger Gretehed, but he is somewhere around here," I added, flinging my hand.

The commander finished writing, blew on the paper, and rolled it up. Hovering the wax over a candle, he sealed the letter.

"Alright, lad, when you return to the fortress, give this letter to the council; they will recognize the sender."

I took the letter, feeling the warmth of the seal. Bowing low, I expressed my gratitude. "Thank you, commander."

He nodded in return. "Again, sorry for what happened to you, lad, but what doesn't kill you makes you stronger."

"Another thing!" he added, whistling to summon eight knights who stood at ease in front of him.

"Escort this lad and his crew to the fortress. When you arrive, head to the town of Mento."

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The men put their open palms on their chests. "Yes, Commander!"

Relief washed over me; we were finally leaving the forest. The knights escorted us to the carriage, where Shael was being lifted on a makeshift bed, and Roger followed behind. This day would forever linger in my memories, and I had no desire to forget. I was going to find that man, and I was going to kill him—and I was going to enjoy it. Anger consumed me, my facial expression oblivious to the world.

"Zarek, are you okay?" Roger asked.

My eyes widened in surprise. "Yeah, I'm fine!" My heart raced, and my nerves were on edge.

Inside the carriage, knights surrounded us on horses. The coachman shook the reins, and with a jerk, the carriage started moving. The tension left my body, making me weary, yet I dared not close my eyes, fearful of what might transpire if I did.

Roger and Klayden were already asleep, heads back against the iron bars. Shael lay in the center. Carefully stepping over her, I headed to the top deck, navigating the carriage's movements. Late in the afternoon, the setting sun cast an orange glow on the clouds. Securing myself with the railings, I stood in contemplation.

My thoughts were interrupted by a knight at the front left of the carriage. Holding his horse's reins, he looked relaxed. "You good, lad?" he asked sympathetically.

"I just wanted some air," I assured. The knight nodded, gazing straight ahead.

It had been a long ride. Reaching the forest's edge, I spotted Bill's watermill. Crossing the bridge, I saw a man with a cloak bearing the symbol of the Sacred Order conversing with the owner. The carriage stopped in front of the watermill. I recognized the man: Zorion. Anger boiled within me. Zorion was the reason we entered the forest, and everything that happened was his fault. He turned towards the carriage.

Leaping off the top deck, I confronted Zorion as he walked toward me.

"Zarek!" he shouted. "I'm glad you guys are safe."

His voice infuriated me. Before he could lay a hand on my shoulder, I seized the cloak around his neck and pulled him closer.

"You bastard! Why did you let this happen? Three of us died because of you!" I yelled, ignoring the attempts of others to intervene.

"Come on, kid!" one of the knights said. "It's not Zorion's fault—"

"No!" I shouted. "If you hadn't sent us up there, none of this would've happened!"

Zorion raised his left hand. "Look, lad, I know some bad things happened, but this... was not my fault."

Gritting my teeth, I clenched my fist, ready to strike. Before I could, he raised his right hand, bringing it down hard on my hand still holding his cloak. He didn't allow me the chance to regain composure, grabbing my face. The metal on his gauntlets pierced my skin, and I groaned in pain.

"Listen, I know you are angry right now, but when you calm down... we can sit and have a chat, okay?"

He released my face and patted me on the back. At this point, I was too angry to cry. Opening the back of the carriage, I sat down. I overheard Zorion talking with one of the knights.

"Zorion," a knight said. "You didn't need to treat the lad so harshly; he just went through hell."

"I didn't treat him any sort of way, Clark. If you know me, you would see I handled that perfectly."

"Whatever you say, Azyrat," the two men laughed loudly.

At that moment, exhaustion overcame my anger. Laying my head on the wooden benches, the outside chatter slowly faded, and I fell asleep.

A sudden jerk roused me from my slumber. Groggy, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and saw Roger and Klayden were awake, conversing. Their attention turned to me.

"You alright?" Roger asked.

I snuffled. "Yeah, I'm good."

I looked at Shael, her chest moving up and down rapidly.

"Did Shael wake up while I was asleep?" I asked.

Roger and Klayden looked at each other and shook their heads.

"She was sleeping like a log when I woke up," Klayden said.

I nodded. Outside, I could hear horses trotting alongside the carriage. I wanted to know how far we were. I got up and stood beside the coachman.

"Where are we?" I asked, confused. We were heading along a dirt road, trees hung low on each side, and in the distance was a huge mountain. The peak was hidden in the clouds. Outside, it was starting to become fairly dark—I guess I went asleep for a while.

"We are twenty statute miles away from the fortress," he said.

I patted his shoulder. "Thank you."

I returned to my seat. We were riding for about two hours, and night had fallen upon us. We reached the village of Ashbourne, and in the distance was the fortress. It was a very stunning sight; you could see the flame at the tip of the tower through the darkness. We reached the fortress, and the coachman stopped a couple of paces in front of the portcullis. A loud clang was heard, followed by clanks of the chain rotating around the winch. The portcullis was being slowly raised; the metal scraping on the grooves that held it in place.

With a tug of the reins, the coachman slowly entered the fortress gates. He maneuvered the carriage next to the others that were posted up close to the wall. The knights escorting us dismounted their horses, and the stable master was at the gate, ready to receive them. The walls were lined with lanterns to give us better sight.

We exited the carriage, the knights were walking towards us, and Zorion strutted behind them. I had the letter I received tucked carefully underneath my coat. I was going to meet the council, and I was nervous.

Roger and Klayden were behind me. I received a tap on the shoulder, so I turned to see who sought my attention; it was Roger.

"You have to go and see the council now," Roger said sympathetically, the light from the lantern illuminating one side of his face.

I nodded. "Yeah."

Klayden stepped closer. "Are you nervous?" he asked.

"Yeah! My heart is beating out of my chest," I said.

The knights passed us and headed for the carriage we were previously in.

"Well, hope all goes well in there," Klayden said.

"Thanks, you two."

Shael was being brought out on a stretcher. I looked at her beautiful black hair messily pressed against the stretcher; her hair was glistening in the light of the flames. It was weird how beautiful she looked while sleeping.

I turned on my heel, and Zorion was still there, his hands on his waist watching my conversation intently.

"What do you want?" I asked, angrily.

"It seems you're calm, so I came to talk to you," he said.

My anger towards him did not dissipate, but I wanted to hear his excuse for this tragic predicament.

"Ok then," I said.

With those words, he pulled back his hood. I thought he wore a mask, but it was a helmet. He lifted it off, and his long and messy hair fell out of it as he raised it higher on his head. The light revealed a young but slightly scarred face; he had a long stubbled beard and a straight pointed nose. His eyes were also blue. He looked like the embodiment of the word warrior.

"Hmph thought you would've been older under there!" I said.

He chuckled and grinned. "That's what they all say." He gestured for me to take a seat on the fence close to the carriages.

"Look, I have to carry this letter to the council; I don't have time to chat," I said with urgency.

"The council isn't going anywhere, take a seat!"

I walked to the fence and hopped onto it; I leaned forward holding my hands together in front of me. Zorion leaned on the fence. He sighed, then looked at me. "First of all, I would like to apologize for what happened to your friends; I never intended for any of you to be in danger." He now averted his attention to the ground.

"So, do I have your forgiveness?"

I looked at him and nodded. He stood upright and clapped his hand. "Perfect! It's not good to hold grudges against your allies in this kind of work. We need everyone as a team player, ok."

I nodded once more.

"Now allow me to tell you why you were attacked." He leaned on the fence again.

"After leaving you in the forest, I was tracking a squad of witch soldiers operating out of their territory, and unfortunately, I was shrouded in bad luck that day. They were headed to your location." He stood upright again and put his hand on his hips.

"I also have a theory, but I need you to confirm it." My attention was drawn to Shael getting carried along the path of the outer ward toward the infirmary.

Zorion snapped his fingers in my face. "Ay! I need you to listen."

"Sorry!"

"Three of your squadmates are dead, which only leaves you, Roger, Klayden, and Shael. Can you tell me if they were searching for any of you?"

My mouth was slightly open. "Yeah, they were searching for me."

His hand was now at his mouth, and as he went deep in thought, he started mumbling to himself.

"What is it?!"

He gestured for me to go. "I'll talk to you another time; head to the tower, the council is on the top floor."

I was nervous; I had a vague idea of what was on Zorion's mind, but I just wanted to hear what he had to say about it. I hopped off the fence and headed towards the tower. I stopped in my tracks and looked at it; from my angle, it looked like it was about to fall, and it made me giddy.

I approached a massive gatehouse, and on each side hung the banners of the Sacred Hand. At the top were two overhanging fortifications for archers to shoot through. The gate was wooden, with a metal crosshatch design.

Two knights were in front of the gate door chatting, and laughing loudly. I approached them.

"Excuse me," I said.

They stopped talking, the smile on their face gone instantly. "What do you want lad?" The knight on the Right asked.

I pulled a letter from my cloak. "I received a letter from a commander...commander." I sighed.

"I apologize I don't know his name."

They looked at each other and chuckled. "Let me see the seal," the knight to my left said; he outstretched his arm. Without a second thought, I handed it to him. He put the seal on the letter close to his face.

"Oh! Captain Leroux," he said; he returned the letter to me. "Wait here; I'll open the gate for you."

The knight to my right put his hand on the other Knight's shoulder. "Hold on," he said while looking at me suspiciously. "Why are your eyes red; are you a demon?" The other knight turned to me, also looking at me suspiciously. But they didn't make me nervous; I was always a good liar.

"I was born with a disease, that made my eyes turn this way."

They looked at each other, the suspicion gone from their faces. "Must've been hard for your family, sorry lad."

That statement made me feel sad, but it put a smile on my face. "No worries sir!" I heard the bolts scrape on the casing. I heard a clank, and with a metallic screech, the door started opening. When the doors opened all the way, they made a loud bang before stopping. I entered the inner ward, and nothing inside surprised me except the massive artillery cannons posted side by side; I counted a dozen in total.

Some engineers were fixing the wheels on a cannon, multiple tents were erected. Some knights sat at them with fires at the front. A path led straight to a massive keep that was connected to the tower; I walked rapidly toward the keep. I was startled when I heard shouting coming from my right. A company commander was addressing his troops. They all stood at attention in single file lines.

I finally reached the keep; the door was surprisingly open. The room was lively, and it seemed only mages operated inside. Multiple men in dark cloaks sat in chairs behind tables with their hands on their laps. Above their head was a metal halo that shined blue. It spun widdershins above their heads. In front of them was also a cloaked man writing down information.

I was about to walk in when I was stopped by a mage. "What are you doing in here young man?" He asked surprised.

"My apologies, Major Leroux has entrusted me with this missive for the council."

"Take the stairs; the elevator operator will escort you to the council," the mage declared hastily.

"Thank you!" Without another word, he walked off.

I sprinted towards the stairs. They curved towards another floor, and on that level stood a lone mage. The mage is positioned to the right of a cylindrical tube.

I approached the mage and stammered nervously, "I'm headed to the council."

He gazed at me with a blank expression. "Step onto the platform," he instructed, gesturing for me to embark. I tentatively took the first step onto the platform, feeling a shiver run down my spine before committing fully. The mage vanished from view, replaced by an emerging green light. The platform ascended slowly, gradually picking up speed, though I remained unaffected by its sudden acceleration. I passed floors in a blur each time the platform was whisked by a closed door. Abruptly, it began to decelerate before coming to a halt.

Everything bathed in blue illumination, I found myself facing a metal door adorned with exquisite motifs. Without a sound, the doors parted. Stepping inside, I was greeted by breathtaking gothic architecture, the light accentuating the intricate designs. At the room's rear, an elongated table with engraved patterns stretched out. On the left and right sides were five chairs each, leading up to a massive chair at the table's end. Surprisingly, the room was unoccupied. As I circled the room, I realized the rudeness of wandering in solitude.

Ready to leave, I heard a click. Whipping around, I beheld a woman with cascading brown hair, adorned with gold headwear engraved with feathers. Heart-shaped lips and a smooth, bobbed nose framed deep brown eyes. She wore an elegant dress from the elvish land of Cartha, a long green silk cloak connected by blue beads held in metal casings. She looked stunning.

With a strict and elegant voice, she demanded, "Who are you, and what are you doing here?"

I produced the letter from my cloak and walked toward her. "Major Leroux sent me to deliver a letter to the council. I was just about to leave." I handed her the letter and stepped back, standing at attention.

Breaking the seal, she opened the letter with a rustle. Glancing at it, she returned her focus to me. "Well, I'm the only council member in the tower, so I will address this letter." Turning on her heels, her cloak swirling around her legs, she approached the table. Pulling out a chair from the left side, it emitted a scraping sound that unsettled my skin. She opened the letter and began reading. After a few minutes, she sighed and looked at me.

"Come, young man, take a seat beside me," she beckoned. I complied.

"From this report, it seems you've endured a frightening and terrible ordeal," she remarked, staring into my eyes.

I nodded.

"It's a shame you had to experience something like this at your age. My condolences for your losses."

Whenever someone expressed sympathy, instead of sadness, my suppressed anger intensified.

"Thank you."

She nodded, summoning a scroll, quiver, and ink from thin air. "In a couple of days, you will be faced with a choice. I hope you choose wisely," she said, giving me a smirk.

"What is it?" I asked.

"You'll see for yourself in a couple of days." She turned and started writing on the scroll. "And Zarek, one more thing."

My eyes widened when she addressed me by name. "Release your anger. Don't let it fester inside you; it will be your downfall."

I nodded. She had my best interests at heart, but letting go of my anger wasn't on my agenda. It was anger that propelled me through the forest, and it would be anger that fueled my quest for vengeance.