That day I walked through the village streets, admiring the festival.

  Every doorway had been adorned with ribbons and woven ornaments. Laughter drifted through the air as villagers worked together, hanging decorations between the wooden houses. The scent of roasted grain and sweet fruit lingered in the wind.

  And everywhere, scattered across the ground, lay the petals of the Solar Flower — bright orange, glowing softly beneath the morning light.

  The whole village felt alive.

  Peaceful.

  Beautiful.

  For a moment, I simply stood there, watching it all.

  Then I made my way back to my cabin.

  Malena was already waiting.

  She stood near the doorway with a bow slung across her back, a quiver of arrows resting against her shoulder. Her posture was steady, almost relaxed, though I could see the quiet focus in her eyes.

  I stopped a few steps away.

  “Are you sure about this?” I asked, studying her carefully, searching her expression for even the smallest trace of doubt.

  Malena held my gaze without hesitation.

  “For once, yes,” she said softly. “I want to do this with you. From now on.”

  There was something new in her voice. A calm certainty I had never heard before.

  It was the first time she had joined me on an expedition like this. At first I had worried about her inexperience.

  But those fears quickly proved unnecessary.

  She moved through the forest with surprising ease.

  Her steps avoided dry branches without effort. She shifted with the wind, slipping between trunks and low shrubs with the quiet confidence of someone who understood the language of the woods.

  It didn’t feel like the movements of a beginner.

  It felt practiced.

  I allowed myself a small smile.

  “Looks like you’ve done this before.”

  Malena glanced over her shoulder, a flash of pride lighting her face.

  “Maybe a little,” she said with a light laugh. “I’ve been training for years so I could enter this forest one day.”

  Her eyes softened slightly.

  “And… I suppose it’s thanks to you that I finally can.”

  “I’m glad I could help make that happen,” I replied.

  We continued deeper into the forest, moving carefully now.

  The woods grew denser with every step. Sunlight filtered through the canopy in thin golden shafts, and the air carried the damp scent of moss and old bark.

  Then we saw it.

  An Urles Bear.

  The creature stood several dozen paces away, massive and silent as it moved through the trees. At the center of its forehead burned a yellow star-shaped mark that shimmered faintly in the light.

  Even from that distance its size was terrifying.

  The stories had never exaggerated.

  An Urles Bear was said to be as dangerous as a wyvern.

  Watching it now, I had no reason to doubt that.

  We crouched low among the brush, holding our breath as the creature passed.

  Only when it disappeared into the deeper forest did we slowly move again.

  After circling around the area to avoid it, we eventually reached the meeting point.

  Prince Dariuen of the elves was already waiting.

  He stood calmly in the clearing, tall and composed, his dark green-black hair shifting softly with the wind.

  At his feet lay two bound men.

  The first was large and broad-shouldered, with tangled black hair and a worn eyepatch covering his left eye. His armor was dark and battered, the kind worn by soldiers who had seen too many battles.

  Beside him knelt the second prisoner.

  He looked more like a wandering swordsman than a soldier — leather armor worn thin with age, steel guards strapped over his forearms, and simple brown clothing torn by travel. His brown hair hung loosely around his face, and his eyes held the hollow look of someone who had already accepted a cruel fate.

  I stepped forward and bowed respectfully.

  “It’s good to see you again, Dariuen. I came as soon as I received your letter.”

  The elven prince inclined his head slightly.

  “I’m glad you did, Valdor.”

  His gaze shifted briefly toward the prisoners.

  “These men were captured wandering near our territory. They refuse to say who sent them… or what they were searching for.”

  His voice remained calm, but a shadow lingered in his eyes.

  “I thought it best to leave them in your hands. I would rather not allow this situation to create unnecessary tension between our people.”

  I nodded slowly.

  “You’re right. No one should be wandering these lands without reason.”

  I gestured toward Malena.

  “I’ll take care of this. And I’ll honor our agreement.”

  Dariuen’s gaze moved to her.

  “This is my wife, Malena,” I added.

  “She’ll be accompanying me on my expeditions from now on.”

  The elven prince offered a small, polite bow.

  “A pleasure, madame.”

  A faint smile touched his lips.

  “It is good to see you walking a more peaceful path, Valdor.”

  His expression hardened slightly as he continued.

  “Send me a letter with whatever information you uncover. It may prove useful for both of us.”

  He paused briefly before adding:

  “But my father… Laplace… must not hear of this.”

  The warning in his voice was unmistakable.

  “If he learns about it, there will be problems.”

  A quiet wind passed through the clearing, carrying fallen leaves across the forest floor.

  For a moment, no one spoke.

  Even the forest itself seemed to understand the weight of what had just been said.

  “I understand, Dariuen,” I said. “I’ll handle the information carefully. There will be no more disturbances in the forest.”

  With a final nod, the elven prince mounted his horse with the effortless grace of his kind. Without another word, he turned and rode into the trees.

  Within moments, the forest swallowed him.

  Only the wind remained.

  Malena stood beside me as we watched the last traces of Dariuen disappear among the branches.

  “What do we do with them?” she asked quietly.

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  Her voice was calm, though I could hear a hint of unease beneath it.

  I stepped closer to the prisoners.

  Desperation and defiance stared back at me from their eyes.

  What happened next would not only decide their fate — it could determine the fragile peace we were trying to preserve in these lands.

  “Names,” I said, drawing my sword. The steel caught the dim forest light as I pointed it toward them.

  “Who sent you? And what business do you have in elven territory?”

  The wind moved through the clearing with a thin whistle.

  The man with the eyepatch said nothing.

  His stare remained hard, unyielding.

  But the younger one hesitated.

  “My name is Vellok,” he said, his voice trembling slightly. “I’m from the city of Geluk. We entered the forest looking for the Forest Sage… but we got lost and ended up in elven territory.”

  I studied him as he spoke.

  From the corner of my eye, I noticed the man with the eyepatch subtly twisting his wrists against the ropes binding him.

  Testing them.

  Waiting.

  “That’s curious,” I said slowly. “Very few people even know that man exists. And wandering into elven lands by mistake…”

  I stepped forward and lowered the tip of my sword beneath the eyepatched man’s throat.

  “…is a dangerous error.”

  I leaned closer.

  “So let’s try again.”

  My voice hardened.

  “Who do you really work for… and what are you searching for in this forest?”

  The trees creaked softly as the wind passed through them.

  The tension in the clearing tightened like a drawn bowstring.

  Finally, the man with the eyepatch spat on the ground.

  “Go ahead,” he growled. “Kill us. Let’s see if the Witch of Gal shows mercy to someone as insignificant as you.”

  The words sent a chill down my spine.

  Before I could respond, Malena stepped forward.

  “The Witch of Gal granted us these lands,” she said sharply.

  Her voice carried an authority I had rarely heard from her.

  “Do you think we know nothing about her?”

  Her eyes hardened.

  “Don’t play games with us.”

  For a moment, silence filled the clearing.

  Then Vellok broke.

  “We were told the Sage might possess knowledge… or some kind of legendary weapon,” he said nervously. “We’re adventurers. That’s what we do.”

  Fear was written across his face.

  He looked like a man who had been swept into something far larger than he understood.

  His words felt genuine.

  At least in his case.

  But the man with the eyepatch…

  He was different.

  “You,” I said coldly, pointing the blade directly at him.

  “Your name.”

  “Now.”

  For a heartbeat nothing happened.

  Then suddenly—

  The man twisted violently.

  The rope snapped.

  In one brutal motion he surged to his feet, towering over us.

  I shifted into a fighting stance—

  But Malena was faster.

  “Fogos Velmiun Ploxis.”

  A streak of fire burst from her hand and slammed into the man’s chest.

  Flames exploded across his armor.

  He screamed and collapsed to one knee.

  Malena lowered her hand calmly.

  “For someone who looks like an experienced warrior,” she said, “you were far too confident.”

  Her eyes narrowed.

  “You thought you only needed to watch the sword.”

  “Please!” Vellok cried. “I don’t want trouble!”

  The eyepatched man clutched his burned chest, his face twisted with pain.

  “Ahh… damn it,” he groaned. “You think this ends here? The Baron won’t stay quiet about this. When he realizes I didn’t return… he’ll send more men.”

  “I doubt it,” I said quietly.

  I stepped forward until my shadow fell across him.

  “You know why.”

  I crouched slightly, lowering my voice.

  “You’re nothing but a scapegoat.”

  “No one is coming for you.”

  For a moment, I allowed the monk within me to surface — the one who followed a code beyond ordinary morality.

  Grabbing his head firmly, I pressed my dagger against his forehead and began carving a symbol into his skin.

  The crest of the goddess Eshia.

  As I did, I spoke the incantation.

  “Relanion Eshiur Lunarius.”

  The symbol ignited with pale light.

  Th

  Then they began to glow.

  So did his mouth.

  Slowly, something began forming in the air before us.

  A parchment.

  It materialized piece by piece as the man’s memories and secrets wrote themselves across its surface.

  An ancient spell.

  One the monks of Eddrem used to extract truth from those who dared violate their sacred lands.

  But such magic demanded a price.

  The man with the eyepatch died the moment the spell finished.

  His body collapsed lifeless onto the forest floor.

  The floating parchment drifted gently in the air, fragile and silent — yet carrying a terrible weight of truth.

  I turned toward Malena.

  Her face had gone pale.

  She stared at the corpse.

  Then slowly her eyes moved toward me.

  As if, for the first time, she was seeing the man standing beside her.

  The wind shifted.

  Somewhere beyond the trees, a branch moved.

  Then a familiar figure stepped from the forest shadows.

  Dariuen.

  The elven prince emerged with the same silent grace as before, his deep green-black hair shifting softly in the breeze.

  “Valdor,” he said calmly. “It’s good to know where you stand.”

  His gaze moved briefly toward the corpse.

  “My father does not trust humans,” he continued. “But from today onward… I will.”

  He gestured toward the body.

  “I’ll take care of the corpse. The forest will make use of it.”

  Then he nodded toward Vellok.

  “Take the other one. He appears innocent enough… dragged here by the man lying beside him.”

  His tone grew more serious.

  “My father, Laplace — King of the Dark Forest, wishes to avoid conflict with your village.”

  “Farewell.”

  With a simple gesture, Dariuen’s men stepped forward.

  They lifted the corpse and placed it across one of their horses.

  The elven prince gave me one final look before turning away.

  Within seconds, he and his soldiers vanished into the forest as silently as they had appeared.

  Only the rustling of leaves remained.

  I turned back toward Malena.

  “Well,” I said quietly.

  “It’s time to go.”

  “We’ll take the prisoner to your father.”

  Malena was still staring at the place where the spell had taken the man’s life.

  “That magic you used…” she said slowly.

  Her voice was quieter now.

  “That wasn’t normal.”

  She looked at me.

  “Could you explain it?”

  I let out a slow breath before answering.

  “Well… you noticed it,” I said at last. “It isn’t a conventional spell.”

  For a moment I looked away, searching for the right words.

  “My family worships the goddess Eshia. That magic… is a gift granted to her followers.”

  I paused.

  “My past, Malena… isn’t a good one.”

  My voice lowered slightly.

  “There are things I would rather not revisit.”

  I knew my words would only create more questions. But the full truth was not something I could afford to give — not yet.

  Malena remained silent for a moment.

  I saw the change in her expression. A quiet tension had settled in her eyes.

  She had chosen to share her life with me.

  And now she was beginning to glimpse the shadows I carried.

  “I understand,” she said softly. “I know you’re a warrior… an adventurer. But I never lived that kind of life.”

  Her voice faltered slightly.

  “So what you did back there… it surprised me.”

  I nodded slowly.

  There was nothing more I wanted to say about it.

  “Let’s go.”

  I turned toward the prisoner.

  “You. Vellok. On your feet.”

  I pointed toward the forest path.

  “You’re still our prisoner. If you don’t want to end up like the other one… you’ll cooperate.”

  The walk back to the village was quiet.

  The forest surrounded us with its endless murmurs — wind brushing the leaves, distant birds calling somewhere beyond the trees.

  Malena and I walked side by side, yet the silence between us felt heavier than before.

  She knew I had secrets.

  And I knew she had begun to see them.

  The crunch of leaves beneath our boots and the whispering wind between the branches reminded me of the distance that had suddenly grown between us.

  By the time we reached the edge of the forest, night had begun to fall.

  The warm lights of the village flickered in the distance.

  We passed our cabin without stopping and continued toward the stone building where Dorien kept the village cells.

  Cold, damp air greeted us as we descended the narrow stairs into the basement.

  The smell of stone and iron filled the space.

  We placed Vellok inside one of the cells.

  The last traces of defiance had vanished from his face.

  Now there was only cold resignation.

  After a few minutes, heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor.

  Dorien appeared at the end of the stairway.

  His gaze moved from the prisoner to us, curiosity and concern mixing across his face.

  “So this is the prisoner,” he said slowly.

  Then his brow furrowed.

  “But you said there were two.”

  Without answering, I removed the parchment from inside my cloak and handed it to him.

  “The other one is here.”

  Dorien took the parchment carefully.

  His eyes widened slightly as he examined it.

  His fingers brushed along its edge.

  “This parchment…” he murmured.

  “It’s made of mana.”

  He studied it with growing fascination.

  “So a spell like this truly exists.”

  He looked up at me again.

  “Impressive, Valdor.”

  I gave a small nod.

  “I hope the information proves useful, sir.”

  Then I glanced toward the cell.

  “What will you do with the prisoner?”

  Dorien turned his attention to Vellok.

  “I’ll ask him some questions.”

  His tone remained calm.

  “And depending on his answers… we’ll decide his fate.”

  Then his gaze shifted toward Malena.

  “You two should get some rest.”

  A faint knowing look crossed his face.

  “I imagine you have much to discuss.”

  He paused briefly before adding:

  “Malena… the Draven are a strange lineage.”

  “But Valdor is a good man.”

  Malena met her father’s gaze and nodded quietly.

  “We’ll take our leave, Father.”

  We climbed the stairs and stepped back into the night air.

  The village was settling into its usual evening calm.

  The wind carried the distant murmur of voices and the soft rustle of trees.

  As we walked along the stone street, I noticed Meinol and Emila closing their shop for the night.

  I raised a hand in greeting.

  Emila approached us with her usual warmth.

  “I see you’re together already,” she said with a bright smile. “That makes me very happy. I always thought you two made a wonderful pair.”

  Meinol chuckled as he followed behind her.

  “Come now, woman,” he laughed. “Don’t embarrass the newlyweds.”

  He nodded respectfully.

  “Congratulations, Valdor. Lady Malena.”

  “We appreciate your kindness,” I replied with a small bow of my head.

  “It’s been a long day. We ventured into the forest earlier, so we should get some rest.”

  “I hope to see you again soon.”

  Malena smiled politely.

  “Thank you for your kind words. And forgive us for leaving so abruptly.”

  After exchanging a few final words, we continued toward the cabin.

  When we finally stepped inside, the weight of the day seemed to fall from my shoulders.

  I removed my armor and placed my sword in its usual place.

  The familiar space brought a quiet sense of relief.

  I sat down and poured myself a small cup of wine Dorien had given me earlier.

  The taste was bitter and strong — a fitting reminder of the shadows the day had left behind.

  Malena approached quietly.

  “Valdor… can we talk?”

  I leaned back slightly and looked up at the ceiling for a moment before answering.

  “Of course.”

  “What would you like to know?”

  She stepped behind me and wrapped her arms gently around my shoulders.

  Her hands rested against my chest as her chin settled softly against the top of my head.

  Her warmth surrounded me.

  For the first time since the forest, I felt something close to peace.

  “I know you have a past, Valdor,” she whispered.

  “I know it couldn’t have been easy… whatever you went through.”

  She paused.

  “But tell me something.”

  Her voice grew softer.

  “Why were you always running?”

  I took her hands in mine.

  For a moment I simply held them there.

  Then I answered.

  “There was a man… who hunted my people.”

  I kept my eyes on the floor as I spoke.

  “As far as I know, only my master and I survived.”

  “I searched for him for many years.”

  I exhaled quietly.

  “But I never found him.”

  “In that time I became a mercenary… an adventurer.”

  Then I glanced toward her.

  “And to avoid being discovered by the man who destroyed my people… I stayed hidden.”

  It was the truth.

  But only part of it.

  It wasn’t my bloodline that had been hunted.

  It was the monks of Eddrem.

  And my master…

  I had never truly searched for him.

  Perhaps because deep down I feared what I might find.

  Or worse…

  What memories might return.

  Malena remained silent for a long moment.

  Her arms tightened slightly around me.

  I could feel her breathing against my shoulders as she processed my words.

  Then she squeezed my hands gently.

  “No matter who hunted you,” she whispered.

  “And no matter what secrets you carry…”

  “I’m here with you now.”

  Her voice softened.

  “And that’s what matters.”

  “You’re not alone anymore.”

  I remained silent for a moment.

  I wanted to believe her.

  But the past has a way of finding us… no matter how far we run.