Long, long ago, when the lands of men were plunged into shadow—ruled by wicked creatures—and even the most loyal allies fell silent in the face of chaos, death became the inevitable embrace that awaited all.
But when fear took root deep in the hearts of the innocent, and hope seemed to have surrendered to silence… a light was born.
Blazing and pure, it tore through the darkness like a twilight thunder—and beneath its glow rose the one who dared to defy the end.
Thus emerged the first Silver Herald.
CAPÍTULO 1
To Awaken, you have to burn.That was the last thing you heard before being lost in a void as vast as death.
And, to be honest, Leo didn't remember burning—didn't remember screaming, feeling pain, or anything particularly remarkable. Only that, somehow, she could breathe again.Which was not the case for the other 25 candidates this year.
It might seem insensitive to think about it so lightly, but everything is a matter of choice. In any case, it couldn't be avoided.
She downed the rest of her drink, the liquid burning down her throat and making her eyes water like a rookie unaccustomed to cherry beer. The smell of roasted meat stirred her senses more than once, but Leo refused to give in to temptation.
When a candidate fails their final trial—the Awakening—tradition dictates that those who survive honor the fallen with strong drink and a good hunt.
And, like in previous years, Leo was not given permission to leave the city walls—by direct order of Archduke Monteiro. Carmelius probably despised her—or something close to it—barring her from even taking part in a simple hunt. Being treated like a child at a time like this was humiliating.
All because of the curse.
At this rate, she'd probably be stuck in Montreal until she was fifty—assuming she lived that long.
The dining hall was vast, its high ceiling supported by dark oak beams, lit by torches along the stone walls, whose flickering glow cast distorted shadows over rustic wooden tables and cold marble floors.
The air still carried the scent of smoke and fresh meat, mixed with sweat and beer.
The surviving candidates entered in small groups, dragging their feet—footsteps echoing through the hall. Bandages covered cuts and bruises; in their eyes, the weight of trauma, as if they were still trapped in the moment they almost died.
Exhaustion and sorrow hung in the air like smoke caught in the rafters.
Leo sat in silence, but she didn't go unnoticed.
As the groups approached the tables, whispered voices rose—sharp as poorly hidden blades:
— She shouldn't even be here.— She never left the walls and already thinks she belongs.— What did she do in the Awakening? Breathe?
The words weren't said directly to her, but they were close enough that there was no doubt who they were about.
Leo glanced sideways, watching lips move and glances flicker—none of them well-disguised, as if they were any good at hiding. Irritation bubbled up, but she kept her expression firm.It wasn't her fault she didn't bleed like they did. She hadn't written the rules.
But there she was—paying the price for a privilege she never asked for.
And one thing was certain: she couldn't be weak. She couldn't be useless.
Few make it. Despite sweat, devotion, foolish belief… fate is neither kind nor fair.If she was still here, it was because she had outlasted them all—curse and all.
I'm alive. They're not. I'm drinking beer. They're not.
Across the hall, her new "companions"—the so-called Heralds—cast critical glances her way, as if they had the authority—or the skill—to decide who deserved to survive and who didn't.
Pathetic.
Not that Leo wished them harm. Nothing so petty. She simply couldn't stand them—especially Giovani's group, who didn't even bother hiding their contempt.
One of them stopped mid-drink just to shoot her a look.
As if her merit wasn't real. As if she didn't belong here.
Leo didn't lower her head. She simply raised an eyebrow in silent challenge.
And as far as she was concerned, they didn't belong either.
There were far better people who should be here.But unfortunately, that wasn't up to them.Only to the gods—or whatever bastard was up there having fun with this mess.
And the looks continued. One, two—all of them. Ridiculous. So predictable it almost made her shiver.
So much unwanted attention…
Leo scoffed.
Apparently, she was already a local celebrity—known and gossiped about—before even officially becoming a Silver Herald.
In her darkest thoughts, she imagined ripping an eye out of each of them, just to earn a moment of peace.Maybe then they'd learn to use their mouths wisely. Or better yet—to keep them shut.
But the weight of it all was heavier than she'd expected.
She took a deep breath and held her tongue.
Leo might be a brilliant swordswoman, deadly in close combat—everyone knew that.But even now, on the verge of earning the title of Silver Herald… could she trust herself in the Forest of the Condemned?
Last time, she proved to be little more than dead weight.A mistake that cost someone their life.
— The archduke's darling… that's what she is.— While we bleed, she watches from the balcony.
Leo almost laughed. Dry and bitter.
But truth be told, a small part of those comments was right.
She was still in a cage—protected from the Zalmas like some rare animal kept safe… or under surveillance.
Like a princess locked in a tower.
Maybe they'd spare themselves the effort of hating her if they knew she hated it too.
She turned her face away.
Irony or not, that wouldn't get her anywhere.
What mattered was now.
In the silence, the voices of old friends echoed like a sedative in her mind—not that she understood a word they were saying.
Because the people she trained with died today.They died believing they'd still be alive.