The world snaps back into motion with a nauseating lurch. The leaf completes its fall. The Huntsman finishes drawing his knife, his earlier sentence hanging in the air.
"—not a good sign." His amber eyes are fixed on me, sharp and assessing. He seems utterly unaware of my frozen moment of revelation.
"I'm fine," I lie, the words too quick. "Just… adjusting." I gesture to my ruined feet, a convenient and painful truth. "Can we stop? Just for a moment. I need to bind these."
He studies me, the silence stretching just long enough to be uncomfortable before he gives a curt nod. "Briefly. The Veil is safer from Purifiers, but it has its own hungers." He points a calloused finger at a fallen log covered in phosphorescent moss. "There. Be quick."
Gratefully, I sink onto it. Now that I've stopped, the full weight of my exhaustion crashes down—a deep, magical depletion that leaves a hollow ache in my chest. While Thorne scans the shifting trees, I close my eyes and plunge into the interface.
Five attribute points. One ability point. The choices feel monumental, each one a branch in a dark, unknown forest.
// ATTRIBUTE ALLOCATION PENDING //
CONSTITUTION: 9 -> 12 (14 in Veil Lands).
A wave of resilience steadies my breathing, the throbbing in my feet receding to a dull ache.
INTELLIGENCE: 14 -> 16 (18 in Veil Lands).
My thoughts crystallize. The chaotic swirl of power in my veins becomes a map I can almost read.
// ABILITY UNLOCKED //
BLOOD SIGIL CREATION (LV.1).
Knowledge floods my mind—basic forms, channels for power, the taste of my own life as a catalyst. It feels dangerously right.
A warm, strengthening flow courses through me. The changes are subtle but real. I am more than I was minutes ago.
"What are you doing?" Thorne's voice is quiet, but it still makes me jump. He's materialized beside the log, his gaze unnervingly perceptive.
"I… was understanding what I am." It's not the whole truth, but it's not a lie.
He grunts, a sound of grim acknowledgment. "The awakening. I've seen it. Your mother's was more… refined. A sorceress's control." He crouches, pulling a small jar from his pouch. "Your feet."
He doesn't ask. He simply smears a pungent, green salve onto my wounds. Immediate, blessed numbness follows the initial cold shock.
"Veilmoss," he says, answering my unspoken question. "One of the few blessings of this cursed place." He binds my feet with strips torn from his own cloak, his movements efficient, devoid of tenderness but not of purpose.
"Thank you," I say.
He ignores the gratitude. "Can you walk?"
I stand, testing my weight. The pain is a distant echo. "Yes."
"Good. My shelter is close. You do not want to be in the open here after dark."
As we move deeper into the unnerving, shifting woods, I break the silence. "The Purifiers. Why me? Truly."
"Dead is clean. Contained is useful." He doesn't look back. "The Covenant would drain you for fuel. The Archivists would pick you apart to learn how you work. The Harbingers…" He glances over his shoulder, his expression grim. "They would put a leash on you and point you at their enemies."
"And the Purifiers who attacked the monastery?"
"Zealots. The fact they tried capture, not kill, means a higher power has plans. Someone wants the weapon intact."
The cold finality in his voice leaves no room for doubt.
We walk for hours through the impossible geography. Shadows writhe against the light. Things skitter at the edge of vision.
"Don't look too long," Thorne warns. "The Veil likes to be looked at back."
Finally, he stops before a massive, hollow tree, its entrance veiled by glowing blue vines. He pulls them aside.
"Home sweet home," he says, the irony thick. "For tonight."
I duck inside. The space is larger than it should be—a small, warded cabin carved from living wood. A bed of furs, a firepit, shelves of strange reagents and weapons.
// LOCATION DISCOVERED //
HUNTSMAN'S HOLLOW.
A SANCTUARY (TEMPORARY). REST HERE TO REGENERATE HEALTH & MANA.
I collapse onto a stool as Thorne builds a fire. The flames cast dancing shadows, making the carved walls seem alive.
"We're safe here," he states. "The wards will hold. Against most things."
"Most things?"
His thin smile is not reassuring. "Certainty is a luxury the Veil does not offer." The fire crackles to life. "Now. Your questions."
They tumble out. "Who am I? Who was my mother? My father?"
He stares into the flames, his face aging decades in the flickering light.
"Your mother was Mira Moonshadow. A sorceress of the Arcanum. Brilliant. Feared." He pulls a small object from his pouch—a silver crescent moon pendant set with a blue gem. "She was sent to seal a breach between worlds. She found your father instead."
He hands me the pendant. The moment my skin touches the metal, the gem pulses with a soft, familiar light.
// ITEM ATTUNED: MOONSTONE PENDANT (HERLOOM) //
+10% SPELL CONTROL. ADDITIONAL PROPERTIES: [LOCKED].
"His name was Azrael," Thorne says, his voice dropping. "A noble of the Eighth Circle."
The word hangs in the air. Demon. The System's cold classification was one thing. Hearing it from a living person makes it terrifyingly real.
"A demon lord. Not a mindless beast. Ancient, cunning, and utterly ruthless in his goals." Thorne's eyes meet mine. "Mira broke every oath for him. When the Arcanum discovered she was pregnant, they sentenced her to death."
My fingers tighten around the pendant. "You helped her."
"I was younger. Ideals hadn't yet been carved into my bones by regret." He pokes the fire. "I got you out. Gave you to Matron Hewen. She left you at the monastery when she fell ill."
"All this time, you were watching?"
"From the shadows. The Arcanum has long eyes." He gestures at me. "You changed. Your power awakened. They felt the ripple. Everyone felt it."
The pieces click into a horrifying mosaic. "I'm either a weapon or a key."
"Exactly." He sighs. "Tomorrow, we choose a path. I know outcasts who can hide you. Or there's the Ashen Academy—a school for the… unusually gifted. Dangerous, but they could train you."
"Or?"
"Or we seek Maeve's Mirror. It reveals true destiny. It might show you how to control your nature… or sever your father's blood-tie entirely."
"And where is it?"
"The Heart of Thorns. Where the borders between worlds are thin as grief. Few return."
I look down at the pendant, my mother's legacy.
// NEW QUEST: MOONSTONE LEGACY //
UNLOCK THE SECRETS OF MIRA'S PENDANT.
A path of understanding.
"I need time," I whisper, the weight of it all crushing.
"Rest tonight." He gestures to the furs. "I'll keep watch."
As I settle into the furs, a final question surfaces. "Your name. Your real one."
A shadow crosses his face. "Names have power. But… you can call me Thorne."
"Is it real?"
"It's real enough." He turns away, a silhouette against the entrance. "Sleep, Aria. Tomorrow demands a strength you do not yet possess."
As I drift off, I push a trickle of power toward him.
// OBSERVE //
TARGET: THORNE.
LEVEL: ???
RACE: HUMAN.
STATUS: CONCEALED (ADVANCED WARDS DETECTED).
NOTE: OBSERVATION BLOCKED BY SUPERIOR WILL.
Interesting. A simple huntsman doesn't wield such magic.
I fall into a fitful sleep, the pendant cold against my skin.
I am awakened by a silence so profound it feels like a physical pressure. The fire is dead. Thorne is gone.
Something warm and wet drips onto my forehead.
I wipe it away. My fingers come away slick and dark in the absolute blackness.
Blood.
Slowly, heart hammering against my ribs, I look up.
Two crimson eyes ignite in the darkness above, staring down from the chimney hole—a space nothing alive should fit through.
A voice, smooth as silk and sharp as shattered crystal, whispers into my mind.
"Hello, daughter. How lovely to finally meet you."