"What?!" Kael said reflexively, his voice unintentionally coming out a notch louder.
Vega, caught off guard by the sudden question, didn't know what to say. Avoiding eye contact, he muttered softly:
"Wh–what could it be? We're just close friends, that's all."
Kael immediately cut in, his voice hesitant at first but growing increasingly angry:
"Sis, what nonsense are you talking about? How could there be some kind of relationship between two men?"
Hearing those words, Vega's face instantly fell. He looked as if he couldn't quite grasp what had just been said, but that sentence… it had cut deep.
Ashara carefully watched her brother's outburst. Then she turned her gaze to Vega and spoke in a calm but firm tone:
"What does love or affection have to do with being a man or a woman?"
Smiling, she looked at Elira:
"I wouldn't oppose such a relationship."
Elira nodded, her eyes soft with understanding.
"Nor would I. As long as my dear brother is happy… why would we oppose it? Besides, I don't think anyone in our family would even object."
Kael's insides were in turmoil. He didn't know what to feel. On one side was anger, on the other shame, and even… an unnamed flicker of excitement stirring within him.
"There's no such thing," he said in a low voice, almost murmuring to himself.
But Vega's gaze was blank. He was truly hurt. Feelings were growing inside him, but… the pain of not being able to voice them showed in his eyes.
Ashara shook her head.
"My brother's a blockhead," she said with a smile. "If he's found someone who could actually love someone like him, he shouldn't let them go."
Then, giggling, she turned to Vega:
"You're too good for him, Vega. Poor you."
Kael's face turned crimson. His fists clenched. Anger coursed through his veins, but was it only from embarrassment… or something else?
"Stop spouting nonsense," Kael said, his voice louder this time. His face was scarlet.
"For you to see me and my close friend that way… it's truly ridiculous."
Then he turned his head to Vega, his eyes fixed on him as if waiting for confirmation.
"Right, Vega?"
But Vega didn't answer.
For a moment, silence filled the carriage. Time seemed to freeze. Then…
Vega's eyes met Kael's. They were cold. Blank. But behind that gaze, something had broken. Storms raged inside him, yet he was determined not to show any of it.
He just looked.
Looking… but saying nothing.
Kael's heart tightened. It was the first time he had seen such a look from him.
Vega, without averting his eyes, tried to suppress what was inside.
Kael's escape from his feelings… how familiar it was.
Aryel's voice echoed in his mind:
"Don't run. Accept it. Stop lying to yourself already."
He had accepted it. At least to himself. But accepting that truth… didn't change anything. Because the one in front of him was still running away.
"Knowing the truth isn't enough," he thought, "some feelings… are too heavy to carry alone."
Vega suddenly moved.
The carriage was still moving, but without hesitation, he opened the door.
"I'll get some air. I'll catch up with you later," he said in a low voice.
As soon as the last word left his lips, he leapt out, using his wind powers. In a swirl of white breeze, he disappeared from sight.
The carriage instantly turned ice cold.
Kael stared after him in shock. His mouth hung open, trying to process what had just happened.
What was that just now?!
"Vega?" he muttered, but it was already too late.
Ashara shook her head, leaning back with frustration. Then she exploded:
"My idiot brother… Are you really that blind you can't see what's right in front of you?!"
Kael turned his head, still in shock.
"Sis… I don't understand. What did I even do?!"
Ashara's eyes sparkled with fury. Elira, however, closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She looked calm, but her expression… was ice cold serious.
Quietly, she moved beside Kael. Gently placed her hand on his shoulder.
Then, unexpectedly, she let her suppressed anger flow into her words:
"If I ever see my brother like that again because of you…"
Her eyes locked onto Kael's, her voice as hard as stone.
"…I'll beat you to a pulp."
Kael froze. He blinked at his sister in disbelief.
"What?!"
Ashara, unable to hold it in any longer, burst out laughing.
"I'd gladly help you with that!" she said between fits of laughter, tears forming at her eyes.
Elira didn't move, still keeping her hand on Kael's shoulder.
Kael didn't know what to say. He looked from one to the other in confusion. Finally, he dropped his head, clenching his fists.
He realized he had messed something up. But what? And why was it so important?
Vega never returned to them again.
By the time Kael and Ashara arrived at Emberhold, the sun had set. The air had begun to cool, and the lamps along the city's slopes were lit.
They said their farewells to Elira. Elira and Vega still had about a two-hour journey left to reach the city of Zephirel.
Ashara suggested Elira stay and rest.
"If you want, stay here, then continue in the morning," she said.
But Elira refused. "No need. Vega is probably waiting for us somewhere along the road," she answered briefly.
Kael was silent at that moment. His mind was confused, but he didn't show it to anyone.
It would be a while before they saw each other again… and Vega had disappeared without saying goodbye.
Deep inside, he felt a little worried.
Did something happen to him? he thought, but quickly pushed the thought aside.
Vega was strong enough to protect himself. He knew that.
And yet… he still didn't know what to think.
As soon as he got out of the carriage, he hurried up to his room. Without even changing clothes, he threw himself onto the bed. He stared at the ceiling for a long time. The silence in the room was heavy.
He really couldn't understand why he had upset him so much.
What had hurt Vega so badly?
Is there really something between us that everyone keeps asking this?
He remembered that Serin had asked the same thing before.
"You and Vega… is there something between you?"
Do we really look closer than just friends?
He sighed to himself.
He couldn't understand.
His mind was quiet, yet tangled.
Vega felt truly lonely without him.
He enjoyed being with him; the time they spent together was peaceful.
But… were these enough reasons for something to happen between them?
As these thoughts occupied his mind, his eyelids grew heavy and he fell asleep without realizing it.
That night, he saw Vega in his dream.
They were side by side. They were holding hands.
The wind gently swirled around them, and Vega was smiling. It was a quiet but peaceful moment.
Kael suddenly woke up. Midnight had already passed.
He sat up and took a deep breath.
He was still under the influence of the dream he had seen… his heart was racing.
"What's happening to me?" he muttered to himself.
Vega had already arrived in Zephirel. He was waiting for his sister at the door of the house.
He had done it again — he had run away from Kael. He didn't understand why he acted this way. But he thought he had to fix it.
As soon as Elira stepped out of the carriage, Vega lowered his head and spoke:
"Sis… I'm sorry for leaving you alone. I just needed some time to think."
His voice was timid and quiet.
He was embarrassed. He felt as if someone had noticed his feelings.
Elira smiled, approached silently, and hugged her brother tightly.
"My little baby has grown up and is suffering from heartbreak…" she murmured tenderly.
Vega quickly lifted his head, slightly panicked:
"What are you saying, sis?!"
Elira looked into his face and spoke seriously:
"Vega… things don't always go the way we want.
Maybe these feelings… will never be returned.
But don't be ashamed of that. Just live. Life is too short.
You are a guardian; you will always be at risk on the battlefield.
But feelings like these… they make you human.
Sometimes they will hurt you, sometimes they will make you happy.
But these are the things that make you who you are."
Tears had begun to gently stream down Vega's face.
Elira stroked his hair and said in a soft voice:
"I will always support you."
Maia and her family continued their journey quietly in the carriage. The silence surrounding the carriage was broken only by the faint creak of the wheels on the stony road. Maia leaned against the window, staring blankly at the passing scenery. The feelings building up inside her were heavy. Since her brother had left home, the guilt that had settled in her heart never let her go. She felt as if she owed her family something, and because of that, she couldn't bring herself closer to them.
The first to break the silence was her father, Eron, who held the reins. His tone was neither too soft nor too stern, but there was a warmth hidden within it.
"I spoke with a friend of mine who could help you with your powers," he said. "He has an acquaintance who possesses time magic. Would you like to meet him?"
For a moment Maia turned her head, her eyes shifting to her father. A sparkle of surprise mixed with wonder appeared in her gaze.
"I would love to… but it will probably be expensive," she said, her voice timid but sincere. "I'll keep working, I can handle it myself."
Her mother, Alena, who was sitting beside her, immediately noticed the unease in her daughter's voice. She turned to her gently, her eyes filled with affection.
"Maia," she said softly, "we have money set aside for this. You will be going on missions, you need to prepare yourself. There will be times when we cannot protect you… but at least we want you to be ready for that."
Maia clasped her hands on her knees and lowered her head.
"I don't want to be a burden to you… I can handle it myself. I've already made a lot of progress," she said, her voice carrying both determination and fragility.
Eron answered without taking his eyes off her.
"You are our daughter. You are not a burden to us," he said calmly. "We would do anything for you, know that."
Those words quivered inside Maia like a thin line. Her eyes filled with tears, but she was determined not to cry. She pressed her lips tightly together.
At that moment, Alena quietly slid closer to her. After gently placing her hand on Maia's shoulder, she pulled her into an embrace.
Maia hesitated at first, but then the walls inside her crumbled for a brief moment. She wrapped her arms around her mother and hugged her… tightly.
As the carriage continued along the stony road, it was no longer only the sound of the wheels that echoed in the air; but also the silence of softened hearts.
One month later, they had agreed to meet again at Aryel's house.
Only Kael might be delayed — because the Phoenix Ritual was approaching.
Although they had been apart during this time, each of them continued to grow stronger in their own way.
Some had faced their family wounds, some had taken a brave step toward the feelings in their hearts.
But they all knew that… soon they would face not only trials, but darkness itself.
And this time, being strong alone might not be enough.
The darkness was growing steadily.
In the north of the kingdom, at the foothills of the city of Noxenfall — hidden behind mists and legends — a strange unrest had begun. The Umbraeth Forest surrounding the city had been twisted by magic; its trees were pitch black, their gnarled branches clawing at the sky. No bird song, no whisper of wind… only the silence of death prevailed.
The forest was filled with grotesque monsters that had completed their transformation. No one dared to approach it, for Umbraeth consumed not only courage but also sanity.
In the depths of the forest, a black tower rose hidden among the mists: Umbra Spire.
From the tower's roof, ominous lights streamed every night, and screams echoing from within made one's hair stand on end. Legends said this place had once been a center of wisdom, but now only darkness ruled here.
His long black robe swayed in the howling wind of the dark forest. The edges of the fabric left trembling traces in the air, as if merging with the shadows themselves. His white hair, mixed with a gray glow of the night, fell to both sides of his face. He was quite tall; his slender build and upright stance radiated natural authority.
A stern expression had settled on his face. The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes carried the marks of time and the burden of ambition. He had clearly passed middle age, yet a restrained might still seemed to tremble within him. The only thing piercing the silence was the violet glow burning in his eyes – the unending mark of a pact made with darkness.
He climbed the cold stone stairs of the tower with heavy steps. With each step, the echo of his boots struck the silence and bounced back from the walls. The inside of the tower was surrounded by stone floors and grim stone walls. Here and there, old paintings hung on the walls; most depicted dark silhouettes or portraits of long-forgotten mages. The lights were dim, pale yellow lamps illuminating only a few steps ahead, stretching and distorting the shadows.
When he reached the end of the corridor, the large iron door opened on its own.
The meeting room carried a very different atmosphere compared to the rest of the tower. The walls were still stone, but maps, tactical plans, and magic circles with dark drawings hung upon them. The light was brighter, shining in a whitish tone, giving the room a cold modernity. In the center of the room stood a massive dark stone table. Around it were arranged ten sturdy chairs in a circular formation; each had a different design, clearly prepared specifically for each leader.
On the table lay scattered papers, sealed envelopes, maps, and books belonging to sources of dark magic. The room was silent, but every sound that reached there heralded an approaching plan and dark decisions.
Morvax settled into the high-backed chair at the head of the table. Even as he sat, his robe draped down to the floor, forming a halo of shadow around him. He slowly began to shuffle through the papers before him. His fingers worked in silence, moving through the documents with the habit of years.
A servant quietly approached, bowing as he placed a steaming cup of tea at the corner of the desk. Without even turning his head, Morvax dismissed him with a single motion. The man retreated without a word, vanishing into the shadows.
When the door opened again, Zarek stepped inside. His arrival was announced by the firm echoes of his steps on the stone floor. His tall and muscular build gave his stance a natural threat. He wore a crimson jacket, and over it a dark black cloak; the cloak reached down to his knees, and the silver clasps on his shoulders gleamed in the light.
His amber eyes scanned the room from end to end, radiating a sharp awareness that seemed to pierce through the air. In the depths of his eyes burned a spark of rage — suppressed but ready to ignite at any moment. His facial features were sharp and authoritative; his presence was so imposing it bordered on dangerously alluring. Meeting his gaze was like a trial of courage for most.
Zarek approached the table in silent steps. When he stood before Morvax, he bowed slightly in greeting.
"Greetings, Lord Morvax," he said, his voice both respectful and carrying restrained power.
Morvax, without lifting his head, merely gestured with his hand for him to sit. His fingertips still moved across the documents, his thoughts concealed.
Zarek quietly sat in the heavy, dark chair reserved for him. As he leaned back, his eyes slowly swept across the room; as if making sure not to miss a single detail.
Then Darian and Kaelen entered together. Their steps synchronized, their faces expressionless. They bowed before Morvax without a word and took their seats.
A strange silence filled the room. Each of them respected Morvax, but within that respect lay suppressed fear as well. They even avoided making eye contact with him.
Some time later, Tharos entered. The dim light flickered with the dark energy seeping from beneath his cloak. His presence unsettled the others; eyes instinctively turned to him. Tharos ignored everyone and walked straight past Morvax to his seat.
When the door opened once again, Vorrin entered. He moved with quiet steps, gliding through the shadows. The one he brought along was Drax. Beneath his chained cloak, he was hunched, his eyes fixed on the ground.
When Vorrin and Drax stood before Morvax, his eyes narrowed menacingly. Silence lasted for a few seconds, then Morvax suddenly sprang to his feet. As he pulled on his black gloves, the rage on his face became impossible to suppress.
He suddenly swung his right hand and delivered a violent slap across Drax's face.
Drax staggered backward but struggled to remain on his feet. Then Morvax struck his other cheek just as harshly. The sound of the slaps echoed through the meeting chamber. Drax's lips were bleeding.
Vorrin quickly dropped to his knees, pulling Drax down beside him. Both lowered their heads to the ground.
"Lord Morvax," Vorrin said, his voice trembling with restraint,
"Please forgive our mistake this time… It was impossible to predict that the students might arrive at Kelm village. We will be more cautious from now on."
Morvax: "Return to your places."
When the door opened again, the atmosphere inside grew heavy for a moment.
The person who entered was unlike any of the others.
He stood nearly two meters tall. His broad shoulders, his body sculpted like armor, and his heavy steps made him seem like a wall in motion.
But his movements… were flawless. Too flawless.
An unnatural silence accompanied his every step. As if he was not moving of his own will, but walking under command.
His long, coal-black hair partly veiled his face, yet beneath it his eyes gazed out…
Deep blue… but empty.
No anger, no pain, no hope. Only silence. Only a will erased, left to obey orders.
No one approached him. He stood behind Morvax.
Like a shadow.
Morvax glanced at him from the corner of his eye, yet said nothing. He was proud.
Because this soulless warrior was his masterpiece. His son, Elian. His soul had long since been consumed by the darkness.
Everyone had taken their seats. Elian stood motionless right behind Morvax. His presence weighed upon the silence of the hall like a threat — as if with a single look from Morvax he would move, acting as executioner or shadowed guardian.
All attention in the hall was fixed on Morvax. At that moment, even a single word spoken would carry the weight of an order; they had been trained to obey without question.
Morvax slowly let his gaze wander around the table. Then, in a cold and measured tone, he spoke:
"Before we begin our meeting, I want to introduce a new senior who will join our ranks. She will serve as the sixth branch of Blackthorn."
With a small hand gesture, he signaled to Elian. Without a word, Elian moved toward the door like a mechanism. Minutes later, he returned with a woman of medium height and blue hair.
Her blood-red eyes swept the room, and though her smile curved sweetly on her face, it was far from genuine — it was the mask of a savage game. Despite her seemingly delicate features, the aura she radiated was unsettling, dripping with bloodlust.
"Hello," she said in a voice that carried a chilling timbre. "I'm Calistra. I do hope we get along."
The smile on her lips was enough to make everyone shiver. Then, following Elian, she took her assigned seat and sat quietly. Yet every eye remained fixed on her. If not for Morvax's presence, the seniors might already have clashed with Calistra.
Morvax cleared his throat with a grave air, breaking the silence. His voice was devoid of emotion, cold as ice.
"The experiments are progressing smoothly. Many of the transformed subjects with their minds intact are ready to join us as warriors."
His gaze hardened, his eyes piercing each person around the table.
"But I see you still struggle to eliminate the petty insects in our path. Another mistake will not be tolerated. Remember our purpose: We will rule this world. Darkness shall reign. The power bestowed upon us by our goddess Nxyar will spread across the earth sooner or later… and when that day comes, our goddess will descend upon the world."
"Your foolish mistakes are delaying our plans," Morvax's voice was as hard as steel. "The reason you are here is your strength… and your thirst to kill. Never forget that."
The entire hall was holding its breath, listening in silence. Morvax could, with a single hand gesture, order Elian to execute them one by one. Elian's limits and power were still not fully known… but his mere presence hung in the air as a silent threat to all.
"Now, each of you will give the report of your region and briefly share what everyone here must know. How is our progress?"
Zarek stepped forward with heavy steps. He placed the files in his hand before Morvax.
"The Black Claw guild of Draemel city is now with us. Our allies in Draemel continue to grow. Some immediately chose to use the Blackthorn pills to strengthen themselves… the results exceeded expectations. We now have strong transformed ones, with minds intact."
Before he could finish his words, the door burst open. A young man entered, gasping for breath, sweat streaming from his forehead.
"My lord… our research facility in Velkros… it's been attacked! The transformed there… destroyed!"
Morvax's face twisted. Trembling with rage, he rose from his seat and seized the man by the throat.
The chamber froze to ice in an instant.
"What did you say?" Morvax snarled.
The man's face reddened, his breath cut off. At that moment, Vorris approached Morvax, bowing respectfully.
"My lord, please. Let him speak. He seems to have more to say."
Morvax drew in a deep breath and slowly released his grip. The man collapsed to his knees, coughing as he continued:
"Th… The Orven Guild… found our facility in Velkros. All the transformed there were slain. But… there was one…"
His eyes widened in terror. "One fought alone. Rumor has it, he drew attention with his white hair and blue eyes… His name… Lu… Lucien."
At once, every gaze in the room turned toward Morvax.
On Morvax's face flickered first surprise, then an indescribable excitement. His pupils dilated, as if a name long awaited had finally been spoken.
"Lucien?" he whispered.
His chest tightened, his heartbeat quickened.
"Bring him to me alive. This is my command to you all!" he roared.
His voice thundered against the stone walls of the chamber.
"Whoever brings Lucien to me alive… will be rewarded."
The hall remained silent. But in everyone's mind, the same question echoed:
Who was Lucien? And why was Morvax so shaken by his name?