The journey toward Blackwind Peaks grew harsher with every step. Trees became twisted mockeries of their former selves, bark blackened, leaves withered. Even the birds avoided this place—save for the crows.
Dozens of them circled overhead, always watching.
Lyra adjusted the hood of her cloak. "I don't like this. Feels like we're being followed by the dead."
"They're scouts," Merek murmured. "Crows are bound familiars in this region. If the Order hasn't seen us yet, they will soon."
Kael walked at the front, his eyes sharp and face blank. His breathing was slow, too slow. Ever since the clash with the Seeker, something had changed in him. He felt faster, colder, stronger. The fragment of the Vault pulsed inside his chest like a second heart.
He hadn't told the others the full truth—how during the brief contact, the Seeker had whispered something no one else heard:
"You're not human anymore."
---
The Silent Village
At dusk, they found a village tucked against the mountain base. The houses were half-buried in snow, the chimneys cold, doors open. There was no sign of life.
Thorn sniffed the air. "No blood. No struggle. But no people either."
Kael stepped cautiously through the main road. A child's toy lay in the snow. A cup of tea frozen mid-sip. Whatever happened, it had been sudden—and silent.
"Necromancy?" Lyra guessed.
"No," Merek said. "Worse. Memory erasure."
They reached the town square, where a single figure stood motionless—a man in robes, staring up at the sky with hollow eyes. His mouth moved, repeating the same words over and over.
"They took the light. They took the names. They took the sky…"
Kael stepped closer. "Who took them?"
The man turned his gaze, tears freezing on his cheeks. "The crows came first."
Suddenly, the birds descended.
---
Murder in the Air
A storm of feathers and shrieks filled the sky. The crows fell like black rain, beaks sharp, eyes glowing with unnatural red light.
Kael yelled, "Form a circle!"
Thorn grabbed his axe, swinging it like a windmill, slicing the air with brutal force. Lyra's flames burst out in arcs, scorching dozens of birds, but for every crow killed, three more took its place.
Merek dropped to one knee and began chanting. "Give me thirty seconds!"
Kael gritted his teeth, drawing on the Vault's energy again. His blade pulsed dark. "We don't have thirty seconds!"
Then a crow dived toward Merek's throat—
—and Kael moved.
---
Awakening of the Mark
Time slowed. The world turned gray.
Kael saw the crow's wings frozen mid-beat. The falling snowflakes hung like glass.
He stepped forward, sword out, and sliced the bird in half without resistance.
Then time snapped back.
The explosion of power sent a wave of dark force outward. Every crow within ten meters vaporized. The rest scattered, cawing in rage as if wounded.
Merek stood, eyes wide. "What did you just—"
"I don't know," Kael replied, panting. "But it keeps happening."
Lyra stepped forward, brow furrowed. "You moved like the Seeker."
Thorn frowned. "But you're not him… right?"
Kael didn't answer.
Because a part of him wasn't sure anymore.
To be continue...