Pain throbbed in my skull, the ghostly whispers fading into silence. My breathing was ragged, my vision still tinged with the afterimage of the shadowed figure I had seen within the ruins.
My father's hand gripped my shoulder. "Sylas." His voice was steady, but there was a trace of concern beneath it. "What just happened?"
I swallowed hard, trying to piece it together. The ruins, the runes, the vision—it had felt real, more than just an illusion. And yet, the moment it had come… it was gone.
"I saw something," I admitted. "Someone."
My father's gaze sharpened. "Who?"
I hesitated, the words feeling too foreign in my mouth. "I don't know. It wasn't human… at least, not anymore."
His grip on my shoulder tightened slightly before he released me and stood. His eyes scanned the ruins, his expression unreadable. "We're leaving."
"But—"
"Now, Sylas."
I knew better than to argue when he used that tone. My body still ached from the fight, my mind clouded with questions, but I forced myself to my feet.
Whatever was buried here in these ruins… my father wanted no part of it.
Departing the Ruins
The journey back to the village was quiet.
Too quiet.
Neither of us spoke, but I could tell that my father's mind was racing as much as mine. His posture was stiff, his fingers tapping idly against the hilt of his knife—a habit I had noticed when he was deep in thought.
The forest around us remained eerily still. No birds, no rustling leaves, no distant sounds of wildlife. Just silence.
As if the land itself had been holding its breath since our arrival at the ruins.
Only when the village came into view did the weight on my chest ease slightly. The familiar sight of wooden homes, flickering torches, and smoke rising from chimneys grounded me, reminding me that despite what I had seen… I was still here.
Still alive.
For now.
A Reckoning with the Elders
The moment we entered the village, we were greeted by a crowd of uneasy villagers. Word had spread fast—about the rider, about our journey, and about what we had faced in the ruins.
Elder Haldir was already waiting for us, his aged eyes filled with concern. "What did you find?"
My father exchanged a glance with me before responding. "Aberrations."
The gathered villagers gasped, murmurs spreading through the crowd like wildfire. Some cursed under their breath, others clenched their fists.
Elder Haldir's expression darkened. "Then it's as we feared."
I frowned. "What do you mean?"
The elder sighed. "Sylas… these creatures are not new. Not to this land. But they were supposed to be gone."
That made me pause. "Gone?"
My father exhaled slowly, rubbing his temple. "There was a time, long ago, when these things roamed freely. But they were purged. Driven back into whatever hell they crawled from."
I swallowed. "Then why are they here now?"
No one answered.
Because no one knew.
And that scared me more than anything else.
The Growing Divide
Despite the looming danger, the village was divided on what to do.
Some wanted to fight—to prepare for war, to arm every able-bodied man and woman. Others believed it was too dangerous, that we were just farmers and hunters, not warriors.
Tensions were rising.
I could feel it in the way people spoke to one another, the way fear crept into their voices. They had spent their entire lives believing the world was simple, safe.
And now, that illusion was crumbling.
Elder Haldir called for a decision to be made. "We cannot afford to wait for them to come to us," he said. "We must act now."
A burly man stepped forward—Ronan, one of the village hunters. "And what do you expect us to do?" he snapped. "Throw ourselves at these things? We barely survived one attack!"
My father met his glare. "That's exactly why we can't wait."
The tension in the air was suffocating.
Then, the words left my mouth before I even realized I had spoken them.
"Then train us."
All eyes turned to me.
Elder Haldir raised a brow. "Train?"
I took a breath, stepping forward. "We might not be warriors, but we're not helpless either. We need to learn how to fight—properly. Not just swinging swords blindly. We need real training."
I looked at my father. "You can teach us."
His expression was unreadable for a moment. Then, slowly, he nodded. "It won't be easy."
"It doesn't have to be."
The decision was made.
Starting tomorrow, the village would prepare for war.
Training the Untrained
The next morning, the village gathered in the clearing near the outskirts. My father and I stood before them, observing the group of men and women willing to fight.
Some were young, filled with nervous energy. Others were older, their expressions grim but determined.
It wasn't much.
But it was a start.
"We're not here to teach you how to wield a blade like knights," my father said. "We're here to teach you how to survive."
He began with the basics—how to hold a weapon, how to move, how to control fear. The first few hours were nothing but stances, footwork, and drills.
There were complaints, of course. Ronan, being the loudest, scoffed. "This isn't fighting. This is just dancing around."
My father leveled him with a stare. "And if you can't even do this, you won't last five seconds against an Aberration."
That shut him up.
Sensing Mana
While my father trained the villagers in combat fundamentals, I focused on something just as crucial—mana awareness.
Most of them had never even felt mana, let alone controlled it.
So I started small.
"Close your eyes," I instructed them. "Breathe. Feel the air around you. The way the wind moves. The way the ground beneath you pulses."
They fidgeted, confused.
But then, slowly, a few of them felt it. The first flicker of mana.
A girl—Elara, the village healer's daughter—gasped. "I… I feel something."
A few others nodded, their expressions a mix of excitement and awe.
I smiled. "Good. Now, let's make it stronger."
The Road Ahead
By the end of the day, the change was visible.
The villagers, once uncertain, now stood with purpose. Their stances were steadier, their hands no longer trembling against their weapons.
It wasn't enough.
Not yet.
But it was a beginning.
As I watched them spar and practice, my father stepped beside me. "You did good today."
I exhaled. "Not enough."
He nodded. "Not yet."
The sun was setting now, casting the village in hues of gold and red. The world felt… calm.
But I knew it wouldn't last.
The Aberrations were still out there.
And something worse was coming.
Something I had seen in the ruins.
Something that was waiting for me.
And when it came…
I would be ready.