Chapter 19 – Echoes in the Darkness
The highest tower of the castle rose like an accusing finger over the continent of shadows. Beyond its walls, the night was thicker than anywhere else: forests burned in a dim glow that was not fire, and from the ground came growls and roars that resembled ancient, hungry beasts. There, in the vast, shadowed expanse where the wind smelled of old iron, echoed the legend — the kingdom that had become a refuge for what men called demons.
In the throne hall, a tense silence ruled. Black torches cast flames that illuminated little but deepened the shadows. On the throne, carved from bone and twisted metal, sat a tall figure wrapped in dark robes. His eyes were ash and fire at once — a gaze that forgave nothing. Nyxarion.
At his side, a trembling subordinate held a small vessel containing a special candle — the flame that represented the bond between a being and its master. He had come to deliver news, though the words barely escaped his lips.
—"My lord…" —his voice was little more than a whisper— "I must repeat it… the dark dragon has fallen. The candle… it has gone out. It happened in the southern city, near the forest where the trackers died years ago… where that one known as the Black Wolf resides."
Nyxarion rose to his feet, and for an instant the entire hall seemed to shrink under the weight of his fury. His hands gripped the armrests as if he intended to strangle the world itself.
—"What did you say?" —his voice was not a question; it was a thunder restrained— "The dragon… is dead?"
The subordinate nodded, unable to meet his gaze.
Nyxarion let out a low, sickening laugh — cold, short, filled with delight and hatred all at once.
—"Spies!" —he roared suddenly— "Send spies! Find the exact location of the Black Wolf! This time, there will be no mistakes. I must tear from him what belongs to us — the darkness that lives inside him."
The messenger fell to his knees and fled in a rush, while Nyxarion savored the thought like a beast tasting its prey. His soul —a volcano turned into purpose— fed itself on vengeance.
Fragments of memory echoed in his mind, sharp and cruel: Damn that Black Wolf… just as I ended that elf… I'll end you too.
His teeth ground together. As if the world itself raged with him, a rumble shook the walls. Nyxarion growled, irritated.
—"What do they want now?" —he snarled.
A circle of light opened before him. A chorus of metallic, grave voices rose from its center.
—"Nyxarion," —came a voice from the light— "this time, we will help you. We will give you what you need to deal with the Black Wolf."
Nyxarion's eyes fixed on the glow. The promise tasted like poisoned honey. His smile widened — cruel and knowing.
—"It won't be for free," —he murmured, and the laughter that followed was like shattering glass.
The alliance was sealed. In the heart of the dark continent, the tide of war began to stir.
---
Meanwhile, tall trees whispered ancient stories to the wind.
A shout broke the quiet with youthful, crystalline strength.
—"Maaaaasteeer!" —the voice cried, splitting the stillness.
Lyra was the first to turn, her face lighting up like a mischievous sun. Soon a young woman appeared — hair red as ripe fruit, a warrior's garb with elven features, but a determination in her eyes that no noble birth could claim. She ran toward the guild master and threw herself into his arms with joy that carried a thousand untold stories.
—"Selene!" —the master exclaimed, surprised and delighted— "It's been so long! How have you been?"
The young woman stepped back, brushing his beard with a teasing gesture.
—"Master! You're an ungrateful man," —she replied, half reproach, half tenderness— "It's been years since you came to visit us! And my mother? Have you heard anything about her?" —her voice cracked at the end, and a shadow of sadness dimmed her spark.
When Selene turned, her eyes met Kael's. He froze, as if a spring had gone off inside him. The words that came out were barely audible, but filled with echoes from something far deeper.
—"…Elyndra…?" —Kael murmured without meaning to.
Selene's chin lifted sharply at the sound of the name.
—"Who spoke my mother's name?" —she demanded, her tone firm and proud.
Kael swallowed, his voice rough.
—"You look a lot like my master."
Before the tension could rise, Lyra leapt between them like a spark of energy and threw her arms around Selene. The two hugged fiercely, their laughter carrying the warmth of long-missed friendship.
—"Seleneee!" —Lyra squealed, trembling with joy— "I missed you so much!"
Selene returned the embrace just as tightly.
—"I missed you too," —she whispered, and for an instant, all worries melted away in that warmth.
But calm never lasted long. Selene pulled back and caught sight of the bow in Kael's hands. Her expression changed in an instant — curiosity, disbelief, and then tension sharpened her features.
—"Why do you have my mother's bow?" —she demanded, her stance tightening as flames flared in her palms in warning.
Kael didn't hesitate. His voice was as cold and steady as always.
—"I won't give it to you. It's my most precious weapon. I don't give it to anyone."
His own hands ignited with green fire that licked his knuckles with a supernatural light.
Selene hesitated, surprise flashing in her eyes — and beneath it, a hint of admiration. It wasn't common to see that hue in a human's magic.
—"Your flames…" —she whispered to herself.
The guild master, moving with the wisdom of a man who had lived through wars, stepped between them.
—"Enough!" —his voice boomed— "Selene, calm down. He's not an enemy."
Lyra, trying to defuse the tension, turned to Kael with an awkward smile.
—"Kael," —she murmured— "don't be mad. I'm sure it's a misunderstanding. Let the master explain."
The ice in Kael's expression softened just slightly. His gaze dimmed for a moment, as if the storm inside him paused to breathe.
—"Do what you want," —he muttered coldly.
Abel cleared his throat — it was time to reveal truths that could no longer wait.
—"My name is Abel Kit," —he began, his voice worn by years— "and this hot-headed young lady is Selene von Arpit. She is… the daughter of Elyndra von Arpit."
Time stopped for Kael. Selene, in turn, paled like a fallen leaf.
—"What?" —was all she could say at first— "My mother… had a disciple?"
Kael dropped his daggers without realizing it, disbelief carving his words.
—"My master… had a daughter? How do you know Elyndra?"
Abel held his gaze, nostalgia and sorrow weighing in his eyes.
—"She and I fought side by side long ago," —he explained, his tone allowing no doubt— "We were part of a small group. Elyndra hid herself in that forest years ago. We lost all contact. Rumors spread — that she fled because of the Black Wolf, that Nyxarion captured her… When I saw you for the first time, Kael, I knew there was a connection. Later, the clues confirmed what I already suspected."
He took a deep breath, then looked at Kael — and his next words struck like lightning.
—"Kael… you are the Black Wolf."
The murmur that followed was like a storm. Lyra and Selene gasped in unison:
—"He's… the Black Wolf!?"
Kael felt his blood pounding in his temples. It wasn't shame — it was the weight of a truth he had carried too long. His face flushed, not from embarrassment but from the discomfort of so many eyes upon him.
Abel, with the gravity of reopening an old wound, continued softly:
—"Selene… I must tell you now. Elyndra has passed away."
The words struck like a hammer. Selene staggered forward and collapsed to her knees as if the earth had claimed her. Her hands covered her mouth, and a cry tore from her chest — raw and broken:
"No… it can't be! It can't be!"
Lyra ran to her and held her tight, trying to offer comfort where words no longer could. Abel hid his sorrow behind a grimace. Kael, stiff as steel, clenched his fists until blood ran from his palms. His tears fell silently — burning, silver and black rivers down his face.
Abel turned to him, his voice soft but heavy with duty.
—"Kael… if you can… tell us what happened."
Kael closed his eyes. His voice, when it came, was low and hard as falling stone.
—"That night," —he began— "Nyxarion's trackers attacked. We fought until the night became a crown of fire. Elyndra gave everything she had. We held on until there was nothing left. In the end… she fell. Everything burned. I buried her in the forest where we lived. I gave her a proper grave."
His words were ash. Selene rose shakily, tears streaking her face.
—"You gave her… a proper burial? Where?"
Kael nodded, eyes fixed on a distant point only he could see.
—"Yes. She rests there. In the clearing where we used to train. I'll take you. If you wish… I'll show you."
Selene's tears fell freely as she clung to Lyra's embrace, her cries raw with the pain of loss.
The clearing fell into silence — grief settling like mist. Abel looked at the two young warriors and spoke with a voice that tried to rebuild what could not be restored.
—"Selene, Kael… speak privately. There are things best said without an audience."
And so they did. They climbed onto a fallen branch, hidden among leaves untouched by war, and sat together. The air felt softer there, as if the forest itself protected their mourning.
Kael, the confession still heavy in his chest, pulled from his pocket a silver necklace he had once seen in Elyndra's hands. He unfastened it and held it reverently.
—"This," —he said quietly— "she told me it was special… that it had been given to her by the one she loved. I wasn't going to part with it — it means too much to me. But…" —he paused, memories pressing down— "if it was your mother's, it should be yours."
Selene looked up, face wet with tears. Her trembling hands received the necklace as if it were a piece of home.
—"My father gave it to her," —she whispered— "I always wore one like it because it made me feel close to her."
Kael placed the necklace gently around her neck. In that quiet, something passed between them — a fragile closeness, a heartbeat shared. Selene breathed deeply, and for the first time since the revelation, a faint, trembling smile crossed her lips.
Below, Lyra watched them with crossed arms and a pout, her expression not angry but playfully jealous. The master caught sight of her and chuckled under his breath.
After a long silence, Kael stood and looked down at the others waiting below. The cool night breeze stirred his dark hair.
—"Let's go. It's time to talk to them," —he said in his usual calm tone.
Selene nodded — but before she could move, Kael suddenly lifted her into his arms, firm and effortless.
—"W–what are you doing?" —Selene stammered, her face turning scarlet.
—"It's faster this way," —Kael replied flatly, his expression unchanging.
With a smooth leap, he landed before the others, Selene still in his arms. Her heart raced wildly, her embarrassment painted across her face.
Lyra's eyes widened, her lips pressing into a mix of surprise and mild irritation. Her cheeks flushed too, though she quickly crossed her arms and looked away to hide it.
The master, however, burst into booming laughter that echoed through the forest.
—"Ha ha ha! Kael… not only are you unbelievably strong — you're quite the ladies' man too! Look at you, driving both of them crazy!"
Both Lyra and Selene turned bright red, shouting in unison:
—"It's not like that!"
Even Kael's stoic demeanor wavered for a second, though he quickly masked it under his cold stare.
Abel kept laughing heartily while Selene struggled to stand, her face aflame, and Lyra pouted in quiet, playful jealousy.
---
—"Master… I want to go with Kael. I want to see my mother's grave… and learn to avenge her," —Selene said firmly.
Abel, who had seen rage and peace in equal measure through the years, smiled with a hint of mischief.
—"That's exactly what I wanted to discuss," —he said— "Lyra, Selene, Kael — you'll form a group. Three members are the guild's minimum. Lyra, as mentor, you'll be the leader. Kael, you'll have allies — and some protection. Selene, you'll find answers and strength."
Kael straightened, his tone grave.
—"If you come with me," —he warned— "know this. I have only one goal: to avenge my master. Nyxarion will fall by my hand. I won't forgive anyone who stands in my way. If you still accept that… then come."
Selene clutched her necklace, smiling through tears.
—"Of course I'll go!" —she declared— "I'll kill Nyxarion with you."
Lyra crossed her arms, smirking.
—"Idiot," —she said fondly— "I'll keep you alive and make sure you don't cause trouble. Besides, I want freedom — and with you, I'll have it."
Abel chuckled warmly.
—"Then it's settled. I can't go with you — age and wounds have seen to that — but I'll give you all my support. As long as I live, I'll be your guide and ally."
The three looked at one another, and for the first time since that night when everything began, a shared purpose bound them together. Not peace — but alliance. Not calm — but resolve.
Kael nodded, silent but resolute. That small gesture sealed the pact. Lyra and Selene cheered softly, and Abel, tired but proud, blessed them with a smile — the beginning of something greater, or perhaps the continuation of a tale already written in blood and honor.
—"Then," —Abel said at last— "we are ready. Let this be the first step toward what is to come."
The evening closed with the whisper of leaves. The ancient forest kept their oath in its memory. And beyond the trees, the shadow of Nyxarion pulsed like a heart at war.
But there, in that clearing — beneath the necklace that gleamed on Selene's neck and the daggers at Kael's side — a name was born.
A name that would one day echo across lands yet unborn:
The trio who had begun walking the path that would divide the world between those who dared embrace the darkness… and those who sought to stop it....