Heroism is a strange concept. I was never the type to put others before myself, nor was I the type to show great courage and valor in moments of great danger. I was simply an observer— someone who idled behind the curtains and watched the theatrics unfold. As powerful as I used to be, my position in the royal family encouraged passiveness in my actions.

I hid behind my brother, who was the very definition of a hero, much different from me, one who did nothing but study. Valor was the one who did all the fighting— something I was glad not to be part of. Though I’d like to claim a fraction of that glory someday.

All I had to do was mend the damages in the cosmos and clean the aftermath. That was… my job. A noble one befitting of one of the most powerful wizards in the world… yes, I was powerful… and I still am.

“Yes… Yes, I can do this…,” I muttered under my breath.

Siron patted my back, “Right, lad. Once you see that third torch go out, sprint to the gate as fast as you can, understand?”

“What if they hear me?” I whispered.

He clasped my hand and tied a rope around my risk. Between the fibers was a dull teal crescent rock with a strange symbol carved into its already cracked surface.

My right eye whirred in anticipation. At first glance, it was nothing more than an ordinary rune stone— a common magic item that enchants weapons and apparel. But the aura it shows says otherwise.

The shape and symbol were nothing special, but the stone itself radiated the same energy as the radiant overseer that governed the night. It was as if it had a special connection to the moon.

“This brace shall mark the sound of your footsteps. But be wary, it only works at night,” said Siron.

Just as he said, the noises around my movements began to hush in an almost ethereal hum.

Before I could ask him a question, he had already placed his large bum behind bushes and rolled backward into the shadows as silent as a light breeze. A breeze so light, you wouldn’t even think he was heavy.

The only noise that remained was the pounding of my chest and the anticipating weight of the dim village light that flickered below the canopy.

I glued my eyes to the torches, unsure which one was the third he meant. Did they mean three torches would go out? Or was it just the one on the third branch? I tried to focus, ignoring the ants that kept biting my legs and ankles.

The mission is simple; Sneak out, find The Kieran, and gather every bit of information we can. We’ve no way of killing it but we can at least find a way to break whatever curse that bound the forest. One small mistake and we could end up dead either to the elder or The Kieran. An incredible risk with uncertain rewards… regardless, Siron and Eliet seemed to be more eager than ever. Desperation is one hell of a drug.

In only a few minutes, the light on the path to the wooden gates suddenly dimmed. Eliet had snuffed the lights.

Signal received.

I steeled my nerves and rushed into the wall of stakes, thrice my height. Thanks to the rune stone, the branches I carelessly stepped on made no noise. My movements felt stealthier than they should given the amount of force I was putting behind my hops. Is this what Valor feels in stealth missions?

As soon as I reached the wall, a rope swung in my direction. I seized it with trembling hands and climbed to the top, meeting Eliet’s extended hand as I reached the top.

“Couldn’t you have chosen someone more covert to do this with you?” I panted as I gripped his arms to pull myself up.

“We can’t help it, can we? You don’t know how to ride an Agradzee. Everyone else is busy in the stables.”

“Agradzee? The hell is that?” I dusted off my pants as he proceeded to the tower.

I followed him, passing by a couple of unconscious elves that I, unfortunately, don’t think will wake up without a headache. Untreated concussions can be lethal. If we’re not careful, we’d be charged with murder by the elder. At least be a little more gentle, mate.

We positioned ourselves in the two towers on the opposite sides of the wall. Eliet nodded, signaling our count as we pulled the levers in unison. A strong vibration reverberated throughout the entire south side of the walls, but no sound… no doubt because of Siron’s rune stones.

Soon enough, a cavalry of sharp-antlered deers with elves atop rode into the now-open gate.

“So that’s an Agradzee.”

Their majestic dark skin blended well with the shadows. Large and majestic, yet perfectly silent. Siron and the elves dressed the part as well, cloaked in a well-sewn black cloak— The best-made clothing I’ve seen since I came here.

"That's our cue," Eliet whispered, his voice more audible than the soft pounding of hooves.

I nodded, adjusting my grip on the railing of the tower. With a final glance at Eliet, I leaped from the tower, landing on the back of one of the passing Agradzees. The saddle was firmer than expected. The soft landing I expected turned out more painful than I imagined… especially between the legs.

I managed to hide my squirm as I held onto the ranger’s back.

The elf ranger spared me a glance, her eyes widening in surprise before meekly nodding in acknowledgment.

“First time riding an Agradzee, Lord Valen?” she giggled, noticing my clumsy effort to hold myself aloft.

“Lord?”

“Of course! You’re going to help us kill the Kieran, right?”

Some of the rangers looked back at me with anticipation.

I couldn’t help but feel guilty knowing they expected so much of me. It wouldn’t hurt to investigate, but I'm not sure how to deal with it once we actually find The Kieran. That doesn’t mean I’m not confident that I can do something to help them but… there are too many missing pieces to be sure. I’ll apologize to them later.

I flashed a charming wink, “I don’t advise relying on myself too much, young elf. Soulmancers are one devious bunch.”

“Don’t say that! Even Elder Elandria trusts you enough to leave The Kieran to you!”

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“She does?”

Another elf from behind spoke, “We heard. You’re a soulmancer, aren’t you? Same as The Kieran.”

“H-How long have these rumors been going around?”

“You’re the talk of the town, mate. Not many strangers venture this deep into The Kieran’s forest,” another elf commented.

I chuckled to myself, putting effort into hiding my apprehension. While I would normally enjoy renown, a part of me wants to avoid being acknowledged.

The village faded into the trees as we descended south. It didn’t seem like it was the first time the rangers had done this. Brave folk, they were… stubborn too, but kind-hearted. I almost felt bad for giving them hope.

The forest seemed to grow denser with each passing moment, the trees looming overhead like silent sentinels guarding a long-forgotten secret. Secrets so enticing that it’s almost like they’re begging to be discovered.

As eerie as it was, I could feel the naive excitement of the rangers. Even Eliet was starting to smile at the thought of facing the beast… unnaturally so.

Signs of life diminished as we rode further. Chirps, croaks, and buzzes fell silent, leaving only the Agradzee’s hooves to echo throughout the ever-darkening forest. Unlike their masters, the mounts had a more anxious look in their eyes.

The trees here looked no different from the rest of the forest, but I could tell something sinister was creeping behind the foliage. My right eye whirred with every small breeze that swayed the bushes. A necrotic energy peeked between the branches at the corner of my eye, shivering as we passed by.

The shapes were translucent and humanoid but slightly malformed, some of them missing an arm… or a head. They crept with naive curiosity as if it was the first time they saw something alive. Fearful groans and wails echoed as some of them ran away.

There’s no doubt their mind was destroyed before they died.

The rangers seemed oblivious to the paranormal around them.

In what seemed like half an hour, the rangers slowed down to a small open grove beside a river.

The ranger in front of me squinted her eyes and held out a small circular mirror the size of her thumb and held it up her eye. I leaned close and observed from behind her shoulder, witnessing the mirror turn coal-black.

“It’s close,” she announced.

Siron held up a fist, halting the rest behind him. He hopped down his Agradzee and started untying the bedrolls and bags on his ride. “We wait for the fog here,” he commanded.

The others followed suit, laying out their tents and bedrolls, unbothered by the darkness that surrounded them.

Siron busied himself with organizing supplies while the others worked together to set up camp. They laid out the cloth, using nearby trees as an added foundation. Their movements were coordinated and efficient, suggesting that it was not the first time they snuck out to sleep outside.

Eliet, unsure what to contribute, started arranging pebbles and twigs in a circle to make a bonfire. He snapped his fingers and lit a tiny ember on the palm of his hand. Alas, his attempts to start a bonfire were met with mixed success. The twigs were too damp to be set aflame. Siron stepped in to offer guidance, demonstrating proper fire-starting techniques with practiced ease while giving additional tips which Eliet listened attentively.

The elf in front of me looked back with a concerned look. “Erm… Lord Valen?”

“Oh, right,” I hopped off the Agradzee, noticing I was hindering her preparations.

I quickly moved to assist the elves, helping to secure the tents. Eliet and Siron were busy. I’m not entirely familiar with the rest of the rangers, so I decided to find an empty corner to work on while avoiding the elves’ gaze.

The tents were primitive and clearly not meant to last long. It was nothing more than a simple cloth with some hooks to cling to a piece of wood. I mimicked the other elves’ movements, looking closely at how they tied the knot. The task proved to be more difficult than expected. I’m fairly good at sleight of hand but apparently not good enough to tie a basic knot.

A small slender hand came to aid. The gentle touch caught me by surprise. It was the elf rider who rode the Agradzee I was on.

Dim light reflected unto her face from the sparkling river, making her eyes don a more blueish-green hue. Her skin was a noticeably lighter tone than the rest of the rangers. Though fairly young-looking, I could tell she was much older than the rest of them. At a second glance, she had similar features to Siron, most notably the height and the darker brown hair.

“Are you Siron’s sister?” I asked.

“Cousin,” she replied with a faint smile.

I smiled back, imitating her chipper demeanor.

For a second, I thought the conversation had already ended until she meekly broke the silence.

“Do you have any siblings, Lord Valen?” she asked.

“W-Well… I had two. But they’re basically gone now…”

“Oh… I’m sorry.”

"It's alright. They're still here, in a way," I reached for the gem in my pocket, feeling the cold of my sister’s soul.

Another moment of silence fell between us. I’m not one for small talk but I could tell she still wants to talk with the curious look she’s giving me.

“You don’t look like the other elves,” I said.

She seemed taken aback by my comment. Her eyes widened for a moment before softening, processing what I meant. “Oh um, we weren’t with the other elves 23 years ago. My cousin and I were escorts from a Breya, a human nation actually.”

“Human?” I tilted my head.

“I’m a half-elf,” she smiled.

A half-elf? Besides the skin and eyes, there’s not much of a difference in their physical appearance but I suppose different worlds have different biologies. In many cultures, half-breeds are usually despised. Especially when the other half is related to fey folk. Thankfully, in this world, it’s not a big deal.

“Why hello, miss half-elf,” I held out a hand.

“Oh! Uhh… My name is Shira,” she shook it.

Warmth… It’s quite comforting.

Her face began to illuminate with orange light as Eliet celebrated with the lit bonfire he and Siron conjured.

I turned to the camp to join the other rangers who were gathering around the fire to cook what looked like an eel. Shira joined behind me, covering her face with a cowl.

The aroma of cooking eel filled the air, I found myself drawn to the warmth of the rising loudness of their conversation. I stayed still, silently enjoying the gamy meat of eel as Shira sat on my left. It’s moments like these that make me forget my predicament… The destruction of my kingdom… The death of my sister… The removal of my magic… It’s a very much-needed momentary escapism.

An unexpected yawn escaped my mouth.

Siron stood up and sat with us, holding more eels than one could eat. “Don’t let your guard down, my lord. We still have a Kieran to look for,” he said.

I nodded in silence.

He stood up and started reviewing the plan.

It seemed that they already had an idea of how the fog works. Once you enter, you can’t escape. All you can do is wait in a single spot for a couple of hours until it passes, the farther you move, the longer you stay in the fog. The Kieran apparently hunts by sound, which is why Siron had brought so many runes, or moon veils as he calls them.

It’s not as dangerous as you’d initially think, but this mission is different from what they’ve done before. If I wanted to get closer, I’d have to make some noise to lure it to my direction. I offered some details about some beast of similar nature and my magic eye. The rangers nodded in unison as they listened to my explanations.

Siron took over and delivered a short speech to motivate the elves. Eliet raised his fist and shouted in excitement.

I’m happy about their enthusiasm but…

But…

“Are you really sure about this? It seems like a waste to risk our lives for a simple reconnaissance mission,” I raised my hand and asked.

Siron went silent for a moment to take a few bites of another eel before speaking, “There is no risk we’re not willing to take if it means securing the future of the village.”

“People have died before, haven’t they?”

The rangers looked at each other with an undecipherable look in their eyes. I could tell all of them had lost a loved one as their lingering souls wandered the forest.

“We have nothing more to lose, sir. If it means avenging our fallen, then we’ve fulfilled our purpose,” a young elf commented… Something about that statement ticked me off.

Bravery is one thing, but it’s a fine line from stupidity.

I balled my hand into a fist and stood above the bonfire. “Leave,” I raised my voice.

The elves looked at each other, confused.

“I’ll investigate The Kieran alone. You don’t need to get on my way,” I announced.

Siron closed his eyes, considering what I said. He stood up, finishing the rest of the food I didn’t expect him to finish. “You don’t need to worry about us, Valen. We can handle ourselves.”

Out of nowhere, and much sooner than expected, as the moon reached its zenith and bathed the forest in an eerie silver light, the air around us began to thicken. A cold mist crept in from the shadows, swirling and merging into a dense fog that shrouded the grove in a soft veil.

"It's here," whispered Eliet, his voice barely audible over the rising wind.

The elves began to murmur among themselves as they unsheathed their weapons.

“Already!?”

“How!? It’s too early!”

“What’s going on?”

Their whispers faded into obscurity as the fog consumed the grove.

“Remember… Don’t make a sound,” said Siron as his figure disappeared into the fog.