The world was still when Gareth opened his eyes.
Pain lanced through his body in jagged spikes, sharp and unyielding, reminding him of the forest, the Drogen, and the screams. Every muscle ached, every joint ached, but his chest carried a different weight—heavier, as if unseen hands pressed upon it. His heart thudded, uneven, like the echo of a distant drum.
The room was dim, lit only by a lantern swinging gently on the wall. Shadows stretched across the ceiling, crawling over the wooden beams like living things. Aelina knelt beside him, her hands steady as she wrapped his arm with rough cloth. Her sharp eyes, glimmering green in the lantern light, studied him with an intensity that both comforted and unnerved him.
"What… happened?" she asked, voice low, careful, though every word carried the edge of worry.
Gareth tried to smile, but it came out as a twitch, halfway between a smirk and a grimace.
"Depends," he muttered, his voice raw. "Do you want the short story… or the one that'll keep you awake at night?"
Aelina's eyes narrowed, sharp and unyielding.
"The truth," she said, leaning closer.
He stared at the ceiling, swallowing hard. Memories clawed at him—branches scraping his skin, the Roath Drogen's claws, Dren's laughter, Kael's silent judgment, Rina's scream. It pressed down on him like a tide. His fingers fidgeted, curling around the blanket beneath him.
"Well," he said finally, voice low, rasping, "we were hunting the Roath Drogen. I… I killed it. But after… after it fell, it came back. Stronger. Faster."
Garric, standing nearby, froze mid-wrap of Gareth's bandages. His scarred hands trembled, betraying the gravity of what he knew.
"That shouldn't be possible," Aelina murmured. "Once a Drogen dies, it stays dead."
Garric's gaze darkened. "Unless something… or someone… wanted it to rise again."
He paused, the weight of memory pressing into his features.
"I've seen this once before… in the Bloodfall War. A beast I had slain rose again. Hungrier. Faster. We thought it foul magic. But the old scholars… they called it The Hollowed Cycle. A curse older than the Warding Treaty itself. It allows the great beasts to endure extinction… dying only to return stronger."
He tightened the bandage on Gareth's arm, hands rough but deliberate.
"If that Drogen has entered the Cycle… you didn't kill it. You woke it."
Gareth's throat tightened. "…And… now it'll come for me?"
Garric's eyes locked on the faint, jagged mark on Gareth's shoulder. The broken sun glowed subtly beneath the surface of his skin.
"That mark… it calls to things that shouldn't walk this world. Beasts feel it like blood in the water. They'll come for you. Again. And again. Until either you're dead… or they are."
Aelina's hand froze mid-bandage. She glanced at Gareth, then back at her father.
"It's true, then?"
Garric's voice dropped, almost a whisper.
"The Summoned One. Marked by the Shattered Throne. A hunter cursed to draw death wherever he goes. They called him… the Sun's Pallbearer."
Gareth's lips pressed into a thin line. The weight of the words sank into him, cold and inexorable. He swallowed, voice hoarse.
"The Sun's Pallbearer… huh. One hell of a job description."
Aelina's lips twitched in a faint, almost playful smirk.
"Not exactly something you put on your résumé," she said softly, though her eyes remained serious.
He gave her a sharp look, half-amused, half-irritated.
"Glad you find this funny."
"Funny? No," she replied, meeting his gaze. "Terrifying. But you—you're still alive. And if anyone can survive… it's you."
Her words hung between them, fragile yet insistent. Gareth's chest tightened, not from fear but from the weight of someone believing in him when he barely believed in himself.
He pushed himself upright, pain flaring with every movement. The room was quiet now, the crackle of fire the only sound. But beneath it, something shifted—a subtle, steady breathing just beyond the walls.
"I've run from things before," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "But if that's waiting for me… I'm not running."
Aelina's eyes sharpened. "You think you can face it already?"
"No," Gareth said, a faint, dangerous smile playing at his lips. "But it's been following me long enough. Time we met properly."
She studied him, her hands still hovering near his arm, the touch light, almost protective.
"You don't even know what you're up against," she said softly. "Don't mistake your courage for wisdom."
"And don't mistake your concern for weakness," he shot back, a playful spark returning to his eyes despite the lingering fear. "I can handle it."
Her lips curved into a brief, wry smile. "We'll see, Sun's Pallbearer."
Gareth urged his horse forward, the crisp morning air stinging his lungs as Aurensport faded behind him. The winding road stretched ahead, flanked by dense forests and rolling hills bathed in golden sunlight.
For the first time in days, he felt something like freedom. The weight of the city, of Garric's warnings, of the Red Sun mark, seemed distant—almost bearable.
Aelina rode beside him, scanning the trees with careful, precise movements. Her quiet presence was a tether, steadying him. Occasionally, she would nudge him with a jest, light and sharp:
"Try not to fall off again. I don't want to drag your sorry body back through Aurensport a second time."
He laughed softly despite himself. "I'll have you know, I'm improving."
"Barely," she muttered, rolling her eyes. But her smirk betrayed her amusement, and for a brief moment, Gareth felt… normal.
The forest closed around them, sunlight filtering through the leaves. Birds chirped, and the wind whispered across the hills. He allowed himself a fleeting sense of hope. Maybe, just maybe, he could survive this.
But hope is fragile.
Without warning, a streak of light sliced through the trees, faster than any arrow.
Before Gareth could react, a dozen shimmering blades encircled him, their movements blurring like sunfire.
The Sun Blades.
Hands gripped him, yanking him from the saddle. Heart hammering, Gareth struggled to stay on his feet. His dagger gone, his horse startled, his control slipping.
"Caught in the act, Sun's Pallbearer," a cold voice hissed, steel glinting in the sunlight.
Gareth's chest tightened. Fear settled like stone. He fought, cursed, and twisted against the ropes binding him, but it was useless. The Sun Blades moved with unnatural precision, their presence suffocating.
Aelina's voice rang out behind him, sharp and worried.
"Gareth!" she called, her tone slicing through the chaos. "Hold on!"
She lunged forward, desperate, but one of the Sun Blades moved faster than the eye could follow. With a whisper of light and a pulse of searing energy, it touched her shoulder.
The world tore apart. One moment, she was in the forest; the next, she slammed against the polished floor of Garric's mansion. Pain shot through her chest as the air whooshed from her lungs. The room spun. Lanterns flickered, the walls seemed impossibly close, and the distant echo of the forest was gone.
Aelina gasped, staggering to her knees, trembling. Her hands gripped the floor as if it could anchor her to reality. The warmth of the mansion felt hollow, empty without Gareth beside her. Her heart pounded, fear clawing at her throat.
She could only whisper into the silence:
"Gareth…?"
But there was no answer. Outside, the forest remained quiet. Inside, the mansion seemed impossibly still, haunted by the absence of her companion.
Her chest heaved. Her hands shook. And for the first time, Aelina realized just how dangerous this curse was—how powerless they truly were in the face of the Sun Blades.
And somewhere beyond the forest, Gareth's fate was sealed.
Fear twisted in his chest, sharp and suffocating. This is it… I'm done for. I've run from things before, but this… this is different. They're not beasts. They're… precise. Perfect. And I can't fight them.
Gareth's eyes darted, searching for an escape. Every instinct screamed to flee, but the Sun Blades moved with inhuman speed, cutting off every path. I… I'm not ready. I can't… I can't survive this.
He felt the ropes tighten, dragging him down, and for a fleeting moment, he allowed himself to imagine falling endlessly, lost in the sky like he had once before. I'm not a hero. I'm not brave. I'm just… just a boy who fell from the heavens and landed in a nightmare.
The wind from their movement whipped past him, carrying the faint sound of Aelina calling his name. Aelina… I can't protect her. I can't. I failed them before, and now I'll fail again. She… she's safe, right? She has to be… I can't die here.
Gareth's chest tightened, his vision narrowing as panic set in. They'll break me. I'm not ready. I'm so… so scared.
He forced himself to focus, breathing shallow, heart hammering. The ropes dug into his skin, the Sun Blades' eyes glinting like molten steel. This… this is real. This isn't some story. This is it. And I'm alone.
A sharp pulse of light flickered near him, a reminder of the mark on his shoulder, the broken sun etched into his flesh. It's calling them… all of them. And I can't stop it. I'm marked. I'm doomed…
The ropes yanked him further forward, pulling him from the forest path. His feet stumbled over roots and rocks. He swallowed hard, panic tangling with determination. I'm not ready. I'm not strong enough. I—
The world blurred. The Sun Blades' blades flashed like lightning, their presence overwhelming. Gareth's hands scraped against the dirt. He wanted to scream, to fight, to run—but the reality was cold and unyielding.
And then, just as suddenly as they appeared, the ropes yanked him upright, dragging him into a haze of searing light and motion. Gareth's knees buckled, heart hammering in terror. I'm… captured. I'm… alone… and I'm terrified.
A distant memory of Aelina's face flitted through his mind. He wanted to call out, to tell her he was sorry, that he had failed again—but the ropes silenced him. The forest, the wind, even his own courage, all slipped away.
And in that moment, Gareth Valven realized: fear wasn't something he could fight. It was the only thing keeping him alive.
"Good bye".