NETHRYN

Vael sat near the weak fire. The flames were low, barely alive.The crown's voice whispered in his mind.No sleep came. Only broken memories.Faces. Voices. Battles.None of them were his.

The hunger had faded. But the pull was still there.

Lira sat across from him, sharpening her dagger slowly.She hadn't said much since her warning.That was fine.Vael didn't need words.

Then came the sound.

A thump in the distance.Then another.Heavy. Slow. Getting closer.

Lira froze.She slipped the dagger into its sheath and reached for her bow."We're not alone."

Vael stood.The crown sharpened everything. He heard breathing—rough and close.

A figure stepped out from the darkness.

A man.

His armor was cracked and bloody.One arm hung useless at his side.His helmet was broken, but his eyes burned behind it—dull, but alive.

He moved like a soldier. One who had seen too much.

He stopped a few steps away."You shouldn't be here," he said, voice rough and dry.

Lira raised her bow."Neither should you."

"This place is cursed."His eyes moved to Vael's crown. His face darkened."And you carry something worse."

Vael didn't look away. He'd heard it before.

The man stepped closer."That relic… it's like his."

Vael's hand moved to his sword."Whose?"

The man paused.Then said it.

"The Warlord."

The air grew heavy.

Lira looked at Vael. But he already knew.The warlord who destroyed Black Hollow—the one Vael killed—had a relic too.

"He's dead," Vael said.

The man let out a dry laugh."You think that matters?"

Then came more sounds.

Thump. Thump.Boots. More of them.

Lira cursed."Company."

The man turned to the sound."If you want to live, come with me. Now."

Vael looked at Lira.

She gave a small nod.

They ran.

And behind them, the shadows followed.