Chapter 6 – Fate

  They emerged from the forest — three figures, each one an embodiment of power and purpose, though no spell or magic had been cast yet. Mana swirled around them, a storm contained in flesh.

  The ground beneath their feet did not tremble, but it seemed to recognize the weight of their presence.

  Valtor squinted at the village ahead, his voice cutting through the silence.

  > "What is this place?" His eyes scanned the dilapidated structures. "Who lets their people suffer like this? Like rot is allowed to take root in the bones of their people — as if their suffering were just another season to endure?"

  Lilith moved closer, her expression cold, calculating.

  > "Should we burn it down, Master?" She didn't hesitate, her tone detached, as if she'd burned many places before.

  > "No," the elf said, his voice calm yet final. "We will not destroy. Not yet."

  The village remained still before them. No resistance, no welcoming. The air was thick with expectation. The elf's gaze traveled over the broken fences, the sagging rooftops, and the hollow eyes of the children peeking through shattered windows. He felt nothing at first—no anger, no pity.

  > Save it. Save the people. Save… her.

  Angela.

  The girl who smiled through dust and hunger.

  The one whose voice reached him in silence, a whisper that echoed deep within him. She was a reminder of something forgotten, a lost piece of his soul.

  Emotion stirred beneath his stillness — not rage, not pity. Something older. Something heavier. A flicker of doubt passed through him. Was his presence too much? He feared he might shatter what he meant to save. But despite the doubt, the pressure inside him urged him forward.

  He stepped closer, ignoring the gnawing doubt, and raised his voice.

  > "We speak to whoever claims control of this place," the elf said, his voice steady, yet heavy with something unspoken.

  > "And if they're unworthy?" Lilith asked, her voice tinged with the promise of destruction, a dangerous gleam in her eyes.

  > "I will handle it," Valtor added, his voice laced with pride, as if this moment was already his victory. "Let this be our beginning."

  The elf glanced between his two companions — one the embodiment of shadow, the other flame. They were ruthless, yes, but something about them felt... necessary, like forces of nature. They didn't ask for loyalty, they simply expected it. And perhaps, in this moment, that was what the world needed.

  > "If words fail," the elf said, "then we will act."

  The village did not greet them. It listened. Doors cracked open, but not enough to reveal faces. Eyes watched from behind shattered windows. The air held its breath, like a prayer too long unspoken.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  They remembered him — the one who had healed Paulina when no one else could.

  But the two at his side were strangers. One walked as if the earth moved for him. The other moved like the calm before a storm, a quiet storm waiting to break.

  Valtor stepped forward and let his voice thunder through the stillness of the village square.

  > "Who is in charge here? My Master demands an answer! Step forward — or my next words will be fire!"

  A panicked pot dropped. Curtains fluttered nervously. A child gasped in fear.

  > "That's him…"

  "The one who saved Paulina…"

  "Why is he here? And who are these two?"

  Angela sat up in bed, her heart pounding, faster than her thoughts could catch up to the rhythm of her pulse. Her body reacted before her mind could process.

  Her mother rushed into the room, eyes wide with worry.

  > "Angela, stay inside."

  > "Is it him?" Angela whispered, her voice barely audible, yet heavy with hope.

  Her mother nodded slowly, a tremor in her hands as she glanced toward the window.

  > "I think so."

  Angela's breath hitched as she stepped outside, her eyes searching the square. There, standing as still as stone, was the elf — his presence felt like an anchor, grounding everything around him. The shadows that flanked him only made him more overwhelming, like the calm of an impending storm.

  His gaze met hers. It softened. Just for a moment. A flicker of warmth in a world gone cold.

  > "Who are those two?" Paulina asked, stepping forward, her voice trembling with the weight of the unknown.

  Before the elf could answer, Valtor spoke first, his voice carrying authority and pride.

  > "I am Valtor, born of flame."

  "There is only one I kneel to."

  His eyes met the elf's — proud, unflinching.

  Lilith, smooth and composed, stepped forward. Her voice was like dark silk drawn across a blade.

  > "I am Lilith. Servant of…"

  She turned toward the elf, her eyes searching for his response.

  > "Master… what is your name?"

  The elf's hand twitched, a memory surfacing — faint, like a whisper in the wind.

  > Lysanthir.

  But he said nothing aloud. The name echoed only in his mind, as foreign as it was familiar.

  > "Enough," he murmured, his voice carrying a weight of finality.

  Then, to Paulina:

  > "Who governs this village?"

  She hesitated, her voice quiet, almost resigned.

  > "No one. We live at the edge of a noble's land. No protection. No taxes. No care. We are left to our own devices, forgotten."

  She continued, voice filled with quiet bitterness:

  > "The noble lives far away, in his distant mansion, paying no attention to us. We're not even worth his notice."

  The crowd grew, though their curiosity was muted by their own fear. They had not seen his strength, but they felt its presence.

  Lilith's voice pierced through the tension, her words carrying a calm authority.

  > "My master should rule. He is the one who will bring this land back to life."

  Paulina's thoughts swirled as she absorbed Lilith's words. She had always known there was power in this man, but hearing it so plainly spoken made something inside her stir.

  > He did heal me... Her mind echoed back to that moment. When the priest had given up... he didn't..

  Valtor leaned in to Lilith.

  > "They already belong to him."

  Lilith's lips curved into a barely perceptible smile.

  > "They just don't know it yet."

  An old man, bent with age but sharp-eyed, hobbled forward. His gaze was direct, as if weighing the elf's words with a lifetime of experience.

  > "If you mean to rule, then rule."

  "But don't speak of mercy if you plan to disappoint."

  The elf stepped forward, his voice unwavering as he spoke directly to the crowd.

  > "Your fields are dust. Your roofs are rotting. Your children starve. And your noble ignores it all."

  He stood still, letting the weight of his words hang in the air. The village felt heavy with his presence.

  > "I did not come for titles or praise. I came because something inside me could no longer remain silent."

  He paused, locking eyes with Paulina, who stood at the forefront, her voice trembling but determined.

  > "Will you accept me as your village head?"

  The village held its breath.

  Then, Paulina stepped forward, her voice trembling with something fragile yet fierce.

  > "He saved me."

  "He saved my daughter."

  "I believe with all my heart that he can save us all."

  The murmurs grew, spreading like a quiet storm through the crowd.

  > "He doesn't speak like them…"

  "He listens…"

  "Maybe this is what strength feels like — when it remembers mercy."

  Paulina raised her voice, tears tracing her cheek.

  > "The noble be damned. I will follow him."

  And like sparks igniting dry leaves, the village followed suit.

  Thank you for reading.

  What do you think of the elf’s true identity and role?