Kael stirred awake, his body aching from the night's ordeal. The forest had grown quieter now, with the faint light of dawn creeping through the trees. He felt the artifact's steady pulse against his side, a reminder of the shadowy power it had unleashed. Tharos hovered nearby, its form a faint ripple in the early light.
"You need rest, Shadow Scribe," Tharos said, its voice carrying the weight of authority. "The magic you wield is not free."
Kael sat up, groaning as his muscles protested. "What do you mean, 'not free?'"
Tharos shifted, its shadowy tendrils curling in the air. "The forbidden magic drains your life force. Every use takes something from you—strength, time, vitality. If you're reckless, it could consume you entirely."
The words hit Kael like a punch to the gut. He stared at his hands, the memory of wielding illusions and bending shadows still fresh. "So, what? I'm supposed to just let them catch me?"
"You must learn control," Tharos replied. "There are ways to minimize the cost, but they require skill—and discipline. You have neither."
Kael narrowed his eyes. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."
Tharos said nothing, its form shifting silently as Kael struggled to his feet. The world felt heavier now, the weight of his new reality pressing down on him. But before he could dwell on it, a vision struck—a flash of fragmented images, vivid and haunting.
He saw himself standing in a grand hall, his hands glowing with shadow magic as figures knelt before him. He saw the Emperor's face twisted in rage, armies marching in unison. He saw himself falling, consumed by darkness.
Kael stumbled back, his head spinning. "What… what was that?"
"The prophecy," Tharos said quietly. "The future, or a possibility of it. You are tied to forces greater than you can imagine."
Kael's anger flared. "I didn't ask for any of this. I didn't choose to be part of some prophecy."
"And yet," Tharos replied, its voice calm, "you are here. The choice is no longer yours."
Before Kael could argue, the sound of movement caught his attention. His instincts kicked in, and he crouched low, peering through the trees. A figure emerged, cloaked in brown leather and carrying a crossbow. They moved with practiced stealth, scanning the forest with sharp, piercing eyes.
Kael stiffened, his body tensing. Tharos moved closer, its voice barely a whisper. "You are exposed. Stay hidden."
But Kael didn't. Something about the figure seemed different—not like the enforcers who had hunted him earlier. Taking a breath, he stepped forward, his voice firm despite the uncertainty clawing at him.
"Who are you?"
The figure spun, aiming the crossbow directly at Kael's chest. Their gaze was cold and calculating, but there was no sign of immediate hostility. After a tense moment, they lowered the weapon, their expression softening just slightly.
"Depends who's asking," the figure said. Their voice was low, tinged with a hint of sarcasm.
Kael frowned, glancing at Tharos for guidance, but the shadow beast remained silent. "I'm… someone who's being hunted. I don't mean you any harm."
The figure raised an eyebrow. "That's the least reassuring introduction I've heard in weeks." They studied him for a moment longer before sighing. "The name's Aria. And if you're being hunted, you might want to move—fast."
Aria turned and began walking away, her movements smooth and deliberate. Kael hesitated before following, his instincts telling him this was the right move—even if he didn't trust her yet.
As they walked, Kael's thoughts raced. The vision, the prophecy, the forbidden magic—it was all too much. But one thing was clear: survival depended on learning the rules of this new world. And perhaps, on finding allies who could help him rewrite his fate.
Kael trailed behind Aria, his steps hesitant as he navigated the uneven forest terrain. She moved effortlessly, her confidence radiating in every step. Kael couldn't help but wonder who she was—or why she hadn't already turned him over to the enforcers.
"You're lucky I'm in a charitable mood," Aria said suddenly, her tone cutting through the silence. "Most people would've left you to rot or worse."
Kael bristled, his pride stinging despite the truth in her words. "I didn't ask for your help."
"No," Aria replied, glancing over her shoulder with a smirk, "but you took it anyway."
Her gaze lingered on him for a moment, sharp and calculating, before she turned back to the trail. Kael followed reluctantly, his thoughts racing. He didn't trust her—not yet—but something about her was intriguing. She wasn't like the imperial enforcers who hunted him, nor was she like Tharos with his cryptic riddles and overwhelming presence. Aria was something else entirely.
They reached a clearing, and Aria stopped abruptly. "This should do," she said, motioning for Kael to sit.
Kael hesitated before settling down on a fallen log. He watched as Aria crouched beside a small patch of earth, producing a blade from her belt and striking a flint to ignite a makeshift fire. Her movements were quick and precise, each action a testament to survival instinct.
"You look like you have questions," Aria said without looking up, her voice neutral. "Go ahead. Not like I've got anything better to do."
Kael frowned, his mind spinning with thoughts of the artifact, the prophecy, Tharos's warnings, and the dangers of forbidden magic. But when he spoke, the words that left his mouth surprised even him.
"Why are you helping me?"
Aria snorted, tossing a small bundle of dried leaves into the flame. "I'm not. You're just a useful distraction for the enforcers right now."
Kael stiffened, but before he could respond, Aria looked up, her gaze softer than before. "Don't take it personally. This forest is dangerous enough without imperial patrols breathing down my neck. You want to survive? Learn how to be useful."
Useful. The word gnawed at Kael, sparking a flicker of anger and determination. He wasn't useless—not anymore. The artifact at his side hummed faintly, and Tharos's shadowy form coiled behind him, silent but watchful.
"I'm not dead yet," Kael said firmly, his jaw tightening. "That counts for something."
Aria chuckled, leaning back on her heels. "We'll see."
The silence stretched between them, broken only by the crackling of the fire. Kael felt the weight of the prophecy pressing down on him, the vision of armies and shadows haunting his thoughts. He clenched his fists, his frustration bubbling to the surface.
"What do you know about magic?" he asked suddenly, his voice sharper than intended.
Aria raised an eyebrow, her expression unreadable. "More than most, less than some," she replied cryptically. She studied him for a moment before adding, "You don't look like a mage."
Kael hesitated, the words sticking in his throat. Finally, he sighed. "I'm not. At least, I wasn't."
Aria tilted her head, her curiosity evident. "Interesting."
Before Kael could elaborate, Tharos's voice echoed in his mind, low and commanding. "The path ahead is treacherous, Shadow Scribe. Trust cautiously, for allies can become enemies in the blink of an eye."
Kael grimaced, his eyes flickering to the shadow beast. "I'll keep that in mind."
Aria noticed his reaction but didn't comment. Instead, she stood, brushing dirt from her hands. "Rest here if you want, but don't linger. The enforcers will be back."
Kael watched her go, her figure disappearing into the trees. He felt the artifact's pulse grow stronger, its energy weaving through him like a thread tying him to this world—and to the prophecy that hung over his head like a storm cloud.
He wasn't sure where this path would lead, but one thing was certain: survival was only the beginning.