Chapter 5 – Shadows in the Village
The morning sun rose over Breya, painting the thatched roofs gold. Life in the village went on as always—farmers tending fields, children chasing one another through the dirt paths, merchants calling out their wares. Yet beneath the calm, whispers lingered.
Eryndor felt the eyes on him everywhere he went. The crystal's destruction had not been forgotten. People still bowed politely, but behind their smiles was fear. Some crossed the street when he passed. Others muttered prayers under their breath.
Just as before, he thought bitterly. Even as a child, Balance breeds fear.
But that evening, something changed.
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It began with the wolves.
The forest that bordered Breya was dangerous, yet hunters knew its patterns well. Beasts never dared approach the village walls. But that night, as the sun sank, a chorus of howls rose—closer than ever before.
Villagers rushed to shutter windows. The elder ordered men to the gates with spears. Yet when the first wolf emerged from the treeline, its eyes glowed with an unnatural silver fire.
The hunters hesitated. This was no ordinary beast.
Eryndor, standing near the gates, felt it instantly—a thread of divine essence woven into the creature's soul. Someone, or something, had sent it.
The wolf growled, low and guttural. Behind it, shadows shifted. More wolves padded into view, each with glowing eyes.
"They're… not normal," one hunter whispered.
Before fear could break the line, the first wolf lunged. Spears clashed. Men cried out. Chaos erupted at the gate.
Eryndor's body moved before his mind caught up. His hand shot forward, and silver light burst from his palm. A barrier of shimmering starlight flared into being, halting the wolf mid-leap.
Gasps rang out from behind him.
The wolf snarled, pressing against the barrier. Cracks spiderwebbed across the shimmering wall. Eryndor's heart pounded. His mortal body trembled under the strain. In his old life, such a barrier would have been effortless. Now it was like trying to hold back a storm with bare hands.
I'm still too weak.
With a roar, the barrier shattered. But before the beast could strike, a spear pierced its chest. The hunters rallied, driving the wolves back step by step.
The battle ended as quickly as it had begun. The last wolf fled into the forest, its silver eyes dimming into darkness.
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The elder approached, face pale. He looked from the glowing dust still clinging to Eryndor's hands to the broken barrier's remains.
"This power of yours…" he whispered, almost afraid to finish the thought. "It is not mortal."
Eryndor said nothing.
But above the village, unseen in the shadows of the night sky, a figure cloaked in divine aura watched with a cruel smile.
"So the child awakens," the God of Night and Chains murmured. "Good. Let the world see him for what he truly is."