The sun had barely risen when they set out again. The winds were cold, biting at their skin as they made their way through the mountain pass. The village they had just left seemed miles away now, the quiet of the night still lingering in their ears, broken only by the crunch of their boots on the snow-covered path. There was no talking as they moved—each of them lost in their thoughts, the weight of the previous night's encounter with the mysterious stranger pressing heavily on their minds.
The man had disappeared into the shadows so quickly, leaving behind nothing but the echo of his warning. Lucian's mind churned with questions, each one more tangled than the last. Who were the other elemental descendants? How many were there? And who exactly was hunting them?
None of them had the answers, but that didn't stop them from seeking them.
They had traveled farther than Lucian had ever imagined. Days had turned into weeks, and with each new town, each new village, they had come closer to finding the elusive other descendants of the ancient bloodlines. Elina had insisted that they move quickly—she was determined that no one would find them before they could locate the others. But even Elina, with all her experience, had a hard time hiding the uncertainty in her eyes. They were running out of time.
"What do you think he meant?" Laila asked as they walked, her voice quiet, but her words carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken thoughts.
Lucian glanced over at her. She had always been the more perceptive of the two, her instincts sharper than his. She had felt something about the stranger, something that he hadn't fully understood at first, but now, in the wake of his warning, Lucian couldn't shake the sense of foreboding that gnawed at his gut.
"I don't know," he replied, his voice low, "but whatever it is, it's bad."
Elina, ahead of them on the narrow path, slowed her pace and looked back over her shoulder. Her eyes were steady, but there was a certain hardness to her gaze now. "We don't have time to dwell on it. We have to keep moving. The sooner we find the other descendants, the better."
"But what if they're not ready?" Lucian's question came out sharper than he intended. "What if they don't even know what they're capable of?"
Elina's face softened just a little. "That's exactly why we have to find them. They need to know what they're dealing with. And they need to know that they aren't alone."
Lucian nodded, though doubt still lingered. The pressure to find them weighed heavily on his shoulders. The responsibility of protecting them—and protecting the power that seemed to grow stronger inside of him with every passing day—felt like a burden too heavy to bear alone. And yet, no one else could carry it.
It was midday by the time they reached their destination: a small town nestled between two towering cliffs, its stone walls covered in ivy. The town had a peaceful air about it, the kind of place where people lived simple lives. But something about it felt different to Lucian, and he wasn't sure why.
As they entered the town, Elina led them toward the center, her eyes scanning every face they passed. The marketplace was busy, merchants calling out their wares, children running through the streets, and townsfolk gathering around small fires. Yet despite the normalcy, Lucian couldn't shake the sense that something was amiss.
"We should check the inn," Elina said, her tone decisive. "We'll find information there."
Laila, ever watchful, kept her distance, her sharp gaze taking in the people around them. She was always the first to notice things that didn't quite fit. "Something's not right," she murmured. "I don't like the way they're looking at us."
Lucian glanced around, but no one seemed to be paying them much attention. Still, the way the villagers spoke to one another in hushed tones, the way they moved in hurried, almost furtive gestures—it wasn't lost on him. Something was definitely off.
They entered the inn, a cozy establishment with a low ceiling and the warm smell of roasting meat in the air. The innkeeper looked up as they entered, his face breaking into a friendly smile, but Lucian saw the flicker of something else in his eyes—something like recognition.
"Can I help you?" the innkeeper asked, his voice thick with a regional accent.
Elina stepped forward, her usual confidence present but tempered by caution. "We're looking for someone," she said. "A person with knowledge of the elemental bloodlines. Someone who might have information about other descendants."
The innkeeper stiffened, his smile fading into something more guarded. "I don't know what you mean, ma'am," he said slowly. "There's no one like that here."
Lucian caught the subtle glance he exchanged with a man sitting in the corner, a man whose dark eyes seemed to bore into them. He didn't speak, but the tension in his posture was unmistakable. He knew something.
Before Lucian could act, Laila's voice broke the silence. "You're lying," she said quietly, but firmly. "We're not stupid. We can tell."
The innkeeper's face paled, and for a moment, Lucian thought he might turn them away completely. But then the door opened, and a figure stepped inside, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.
The figure was tall, cloaked in dark robes, their face shadowed by the hood they wore. They moved with a strange grace, their eyes gleaming beneath the hood as they scanned the room. The innkeeper stiffened even more, a visible shudder running through him as the figure approached the bar.
"Is there a problem?" the figure asked, their voice smooth but with an underlying edge.
Lucian's pulse quickened. Something about the figure—something about the way they carried themselves—was familiar. It wasn't just their height or their voice; it was the power that seemed to radiate from them, something that felt almost like a mirror to his own.
"I was just telling them we don't have what they're looking for," the innkeeper said, his voice weak now.
The figure turned slowly to face Lucian and the others, their gaze lingering on each of them in turn. Finally, their eyes settled on Lucian.
"You shouldn't be here," the figure said softly, their tone almost a whisper.
The words sent a shiver down Lucian's spine, and he could feel the weight of his own magic stirring in response, like an old friend calling out to him. He wasn't sure why, but he felt an undeniable pull toward this stranger.
"Who are you?" Elina demanded, stepping forward. Her stance was defensive, but Lucian could sense her unease too.
The figure didn't answer at first. They simply took a step closer, then lifted their hood, revealing a face that was both familiar and alien to Lucian.
The person before them was not a stranger at all.
It was someone he never thought he'd see again.
"It's me," the figure said, their voice soft with recognition. "I'm here to help."