The ride back from Greystone was quiet.
Rael sat between Mira and Darius in the carriage, his eyes fixed on the crimson-stained gauntlet that rested in his lap. The metal still held the heat of battle. Darius hadn't spoken a word since they left the ruins, his gaze lost in the horizon, jaw tight. Mira leaned on the window, her usual confidence dimmed by exhaustion.
No one spoke of the Warden. Or of the way Rael's body had twisted, warped, changed when the darkness inside him surged.
"You're stable... for now," Selene had said after the battle. But her eyes, sharp as a hawk's, betrayed concern. And curiosity.
As they crossed the threshold of the Order's gate, the guards stepped back—stiff, wary. Word had spread.
The Devoured weren't the only monsters to return from Greystone.
Later, under the searing afternoon sun, Rael knelt in the courtyard—shirtless, bruised, and bleeding from reopened wounds. Training resumed immediately. Mercy was a forgotten word here.
Selene stood over him, a whip of black fire wrapped around her arm like a serpent.
"Again."
His limbs screamed, but he rose. The sword in his hand flickered with abyssal shimmer—something that hadn't been there before.
"Draw from it, but control it," she ordered. "Let the abyss guide your blade, not possess your will."
He charged. She met him mid-strike, and in a blur, slammed him into the stone.
"You're not strong because you're marked," she hissed. "You're strong because you refuse to die."
Rael coughed blood, spat it out, and stood again.
This time, the blade howled.
That night, in the cathedral hall, the council of the Black Sun convened. Selene stood at the head, flanked by Darius and Mira. Rael, freshly bandaged, stood apart.
A man in white robes—older, eyes burned with holy fire—stepped forward.
"We have reports. The Devoured are moving south. But something else stirred in Greystone. A presence we haven't felt in decades."
"The Whispering One," Selene said coldly.
Gasps. A murmur.
Rael felt the mark on his chest throb, a black pulse against his ribs.
The white-robed man turned to him.
"You saw it… didn't you?"
Rael nodded slowly. "It spoke to me. In dreams. In blood."
"And what did it say?"
Rael looked up, eyes flickering with that unholy glow.
"It said I was chosen."