Far beyond the crumbling mountains, where the skies darkened unnaturally and the wind whispered forbidden truths, a prison stood carved into the bones of the earth.
The Obsidian Deep.
Within its blackened walls, the most dangerous weapon of the Order slept—not a beast, not a blade, but a man.
The Seeker.
Tall. Scarred. Eyes covered with a blindfold sewn with gold thread. His body, restrained by runes carved into steel shackles, glowed faintly as they pulsed with anti-magic symbols. He did not breathe. He did not blink. He simply existed—until the moment the seal shattered.
The High Arbiter's voice echoed in the chamber.
"Kael Straven has broken the Vault. Find him. Retrieve the fragments. Eliminate him and anyone who stands beside him."
The Seeker's eyes snapped open beneath the blindfold.
The chains melted.
---
A New Journey Begins
Kael and his companions made their way northward, toward Blackwind Peaks. The snow deepened, and the forests twisted with unnatural stillness.
Merek unfolded an ancient map, revealing a forgotten path that bypassed major Order patrols. "We'll reach the base of the Peaks in three days. If she's being held there, we'll need to move fast. The longer we wait, the more defenses they'll pull in."
Kael nodded. "Then we don't wait. We push through."
But Thorn growled low, halting the group.
"Something's following us."
They turned.
Silence.
Then—snow exploded behind them.
A figure emerged in the swirling white: tall, armored, walking like a phantom.
Kael raised his blade. "Who—"
But before the words left his mouth, Thorn was already mid-swing.
---
The Seeker Arrives
With inhuman grace, the Seeker caught Thorn's axe mid-air, twisting it in his grip and hurling it thirty meters away. Lyra fired a burst of fire toward him, but it evaporated before reaching his cloak.
Kael lunged.
His sword met flesh.
No—it passed through the Seeker's body as if slicing smoke.
Then Kael felt it: a hand pressed against his chest. Not striking. Reading.
Images burst into Kael's mind—his memories, his rage, his wife.
The Seeker tilted his head. A raspy voice whispered through the wind:
"You burn too brightly. I will remember your death."
Then Kael was thrown backward, his body slamming into a tree with a shattering crack.
---
A Losing Battle
Thorn roared, launching himself again, but the Seeker vanished, reappearing behind him with a flicker of black light. He touched Thorn's shoulder—suddenly, the massive warrior fell, gasping, as if his lungs had been turned to stone.
Merek chanted furiously, casting a barrage of defensive spells. The Seeker paused, sensing something new.
"A scholar?" he hissed. "You taste of guilt."
He turned, walking toward Merek.
Kael rose, blood dripping from his mouth. "No," he growled. "You won't take them."
He activated the fragment he had taken from the Vault.
Dark energy surged through his veins.
His sword turned black.
The Seeker hesitated.
---
A Drawn Line
Kael charged again, this time faster than before. Their weapons met—not physically, but in force. Black energy against void.
The explosion cracked the forest.
When the smoke cleared, both men stood unmoving.
The Seeker stared at Kael with an unreadable expression. Then, slowly, he turned and vanished in a cloud of dust and cold air.
Merek crawled to Kael's side. "Why… why did he stop?"
Kael lowered his sword. "Because I'm changing."
He looked down at his arm—the veins still pulsed black.
"I think the Vault did something to me."
Lyra approached. "And now the Order knows you're more than a threat. You're becoming what they fear."
Kael clenched his fist.
"Good."
To be continue...