The room erupted into chaos before Alric could fully process what was happening. The bounty hunter, his face twisted in triumph, barked orders to his men as they fanned out. Tables were overturned, tankards spilled, and the patrons scrambled for cover in a rush of panic.

  “Get him!” the bounty hunter snarled, drawing a serrated blade from his belt.

  Kaelion’s voice cut through the noise, sharp and steady. “Don’t let them box you in. Stay light on your feet. Use the space.”

  Alric tightened his grip on the dagger, the cool obsidian hilt grounding him. He felt the heat of Kaelion’s power stir in his veins, sharper now, more vivid. The first of the attackers lunged at him—a wiry man wielding a crude short sword.

  “Now!” Kaelion barked.

  Alric sidestepped the swing with ease, his body moving almost before his mind caught up. The dagger flashed in his hand, a swift arc of dark steel, slicing across the attacker’s arm. The man screamed, clutching his wound as he fell back.

  Another attacker came at him, a broad-shouldered brute wielding a spiked club. Alric ducked under the heavy swing, then drove his shoulder into the man’s chest, sending him stumbling into a nearby table.

  “Good,” Kaelion said, his tone approving. “You’re learning. But you’re not done yet.”

  The bounty hunter himself came next, his serrated blade slashing through the air with a vicious precision. Alric parried the strike, their weapons clashing with a metallic ring. The force of the blow sent a jolt up his arm, but he held his ground.

  “You’ve got nowhere to run, prince,” the bounty hunter sneered, pressing his weight into the clash. “You’re worth a fortune to the Regent. Dead or alive.”

  Alric gritted his teeth, shoving the man back with a burst of strength that wasn’t entirely his own. “You’ll have to work for it, then.”

  Kaelion laughed in his mind. “That’s the spirit!”

  But the bounty hunter wasn’t alone. Two more men closed in on Alric from opposite sides, one with a dagger and the other with a spear. Kaelion’s voice rang out again, urgent.

  “Move! Don’t let them surround you!”

  Alric pivoted, narrowly dodging a thrust from the spear. The dagger-wielding attacker lunged, but Alric twisted his body, catching the man’s wrist and driving his obsidian blade into his chest. The man crumpled with a gasp, his weapon clattering to the floor.

  The spear-wielder hesitated, his confidence faltering. Alric didn’t give him a chance to recover—he surged forward, feinting left before striking low. The dagger tore through the man’s thigh, and he collapsed with a howl.

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  The bounty hunter snarled, his eyes narrowing as he watched his men fall one by one. “You’re more trouble than you’re worth.”

  Kaelion’s voice lowered, almost a growl. “He’s dangerous. Finish this quickly.”

  The bounty hunter came at Alric again, his strikes faster and more precise this time. Alric parried and dodged, but the man’s relentless assault forced him back toward the bar. His muscles burned, and his breath came in ragged gasps.

  “You’re getting sloppy,” Kaelion warned. “Focus!”

  Alric’s back hit the bar, and the bounty hunter grinned, sensing victory. He raised his blade for a killing blow, but before he could strike, Alric felt the familiar surge of power from the dagger. His vision sharpened, and his movements became a blur of speed and precision.

  The bounty hunter’s blade descended, but Alric was already moving. He sidestepped the strike, catching the man’s wrist and twisting it sharply. The serrated blade fell from his grip, and Alric drove his dagger into the bounty hunter’s shoulder, pinning him to the bar.

  The man screamed, his knees buckling as blood poured from the wound. Alric leaned in close, his voice low and cold.

  “Tell Mordain I’m coming for him,” he said. Then, with a sharp pull, he freed the dagger and let the man collapse to the floor.

  The room fell silent. The remaining patrons stared at Alric with wide eyes, their expressions a mixture of fear and awe.

  “Time to go,” Kaelion said.

  Alric nodded, wiping the blood from his dagger on a nearby cloth. He turned toward the door, but before he could take a step, a familiar chill washed over him.

  “Alric…”

  The whisper was back, soft and insidious. The cold voice from before.

  Kaelion’s presence flared in his mind, hot and protective. “It’s them again,” he said. “The other Echo. They’re trying to push through.”

  Alric stumbled, clutching his head as the voice grew louder.

  “Poor little prince,” it said, its tone mocking. “Do you really think you can outrun me? The fire in your blood is mine to claim. You’ll burn, just like the others.”

  “Get out of my head!” Alric growled through gritted teeth.

  Kaelion’s presence surged, and the cold voice receded, leaving only silence in its wake.

  “They’re testing you,” Kaelion said, his voice grim. “Seeing how far they can push. If you don’t take control soon, they’ll get stronger.”

  Alric staggered out of the tavern, his vision swimming. The cool night air hit his face, but it did little to calm the storm raging in his mind.

  “Where do we go now?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

  Kaelion appeared beside him, his spectral form flickering faintly. “You need allies. Real ones. The Regent won’t stop sending men after you, and you can’t fight them all alone.”

  Alric nodded, though his thoughts were still clouded. “Where do I start?”

  Kaelion’s golden eyes gleamed. “There’s a resistance brewing in the south. A rebellion against Mordain’s rule. They’re scattered and disorganized, but with your name—and your power—you could unite them.”

  Alric glanced down at the dagger in his hand, its obsidian blade still faintly pulsing with energy. The weight of what lay ahead pressed down on him, but he straightened his shoulders, forcing himself to stand tall.

  “Then that’s where we’ll go,” he said. “To the south.”

  Kaelion grinned. “Good. But keep this in mind, boy: the path to the throne won’t just be paved with blood. It’ll be paved with choices. And every one you make will come with a cost.”

  Alric didn’t respond. He simply turned toward the distant horizon, where the faint outline of the southern mountains loomed against the night sky.

  And as he set off into the darkness, the Echoes followed.