It began with silence.
Not the kind that brought peace, like the hush before sunrise or the pause in a lullaby. No, this was the wrong kind. The kind that slithered into cracks, filled the space between breaths, and clung to the skin like cold mist.
Mistress Selva had left that morning, her departure sudden but not unusual for her. "A small errand," she'd said vaguely, a hint of mischief dancing in her eyes. "Nothing dangerous." She never felt the need to explain more than necessary, and Zeppelin had long since learned that curiosity often led to dead ends.
Zepp spent the day much like any other, helping at the apothecary hidden amongst the village's winding streets, delivering bundles of dried herbs wrapped in crisp parchment, and poring over old alchemy notes that cracked and crumbled at the edges. But despite the familiarity of her routine, the air felt heavy, as if a storm loomed just out of sight. The shadows under the ancient trees stretched longer, more ominous. Even the cats, usually languid and aloof, were eerily quiet, their eyes wide and watchful.
Dophis felt… off.
The villagers were milling about, exchanging greetings and laughter, but their voices were quieter than usual, a careful undertone threading through their interactions. Their eyes flicked to the dark woods more often, a place that seemed to breathe with secrets. The air held an unspoken weight, a gravity that tugged at her chest.
She didn't ask questions. Not because she didn't want to know, but because deep down, she feared the answers.
By late afternoon, Zepp stood outside the apothecary, clutching a woven basket filled with healing salves, her heart tugging uncomfortably in her chest, urging her to act.
Something's coming, she thought uneasily. Something bad.
She wasn't wrong.
As she approached home, dread coiled in her stomach; she found the door ajar, a stark anomaly that made her pulse quicken, thrumming in her ears.
Her pulse quickened.
No one should've been there. Selva wouldn't have returned without a sign. Her wards should have chimed like bells if anyone crossed the threshold.
Then she heard it.
A footstep. Soft, deliberate.
Click.
The sound of a boot striking the weathered stone of her doorstep.
Zepp's breath caught, and panic surged through her veins, adrenaline sharpening her senses, but it didn't freeze her. It ignited her instincts.
She turned. Ran.
But not toward Dophis.
Her first instinct had been to go home to find safety. But her second thought cut through it like ice:
If they follow me, they'll go there too. I can't… I won't let that happen.
So she bolted into the forest.
Branches whipped against her face, stinging her skin like reprimands, and mud clung stubbornly to her boots, each step more precarious than the last. The shadows deepened with every frantic stride, but she didn't stop, she couldn't. Her legs screamed in protest, her lungs burned as they gasped for air. She had no destination in mind, only an overwhelming urge for distance.
Behind her, the pursuers followed in silence.
No shouts. No warnings.
Hunters didn't yell at their prey.
She scrambled through a ravine, momentum carrying her forward until she slipped, rolling down into a shallow ditch, her basket of salves forgotten. The fabric of her cloak caught on jagged roots, tearing against her escape.
Still, she gritted her teeth and forced herself up, only to find a root snaring her foot. She hit the ground hard, a jolt of pain radiating from her ankle. She struggled to rise-
Then she saw them.
Three figures emerged from the encroaching darkness, draped in dark cloaks that seemed to absorb the light around them, like wraiths.
One of them tilted his head, as if studying her.
"She's smaller than I thought."
"Doesn't matter. She's still his."
"Take her before she stirs anything."
Mana swirled in the air, thick and charged.
Zepp's lips trembled, the urge to scream clawing at her throat, but no sound emerged. Confusion clouded her vision, blurring the edges of reality.
This is it.
But the world didn't end.
It cracked.
A vision.
Not a dream. Not memory. Something… in between.
A storm roared, red lightning slashing through a darkened sky like the very fabric of the night was being torn apart.
A battlefield stretched before her, smeared in ash and blood, the scent of iron and smoke clawing at her senses.
A voice reached her, muffled, as if echoing from underwater.
A hand reaching toward her. Gloved. Familiar.
But no face. Just the sense of someone... close yet unreachable. A bond beyond reason. A feeling that left her breathless with longing and fear.
You are not alone.
Then, lightning.
She screamed.
Red surged from her spine, coursing like wildfire through her veins, lighting her skin with an ethereal glow. The forest erupted in crimson light, bolts exploding outward, searing trees, carving deep lines in the earth.
The figures stumbled back, shielding their eyes from her sudden brilliance.
"She wasn't supposed to awaken!!"
"Fall back! FALL BACK!!"
Zepp collapsed to her knees, panting, every breath a struggle against the fire that coursed through her. Her veins burned. Her fingers twitched. Something inside her snarled and writhed, barely leashed.
Her eyes flickered crimson. Then turn black again.
And when she looked up, they were gone.
She didn't remember how she got away. Her mind was a haze, her body a puppet dragged through trees and brambles.
But she didn't go back to the village.
She couldn't.
Whatever she had inside her, whatever she had awakened, it was dangerous. To them. To herself.
So she walked deeper into the forest. Alone. Shaking. Tears streaming down her face, leaving cold tracks on her cheeks.
And somewhere, far, far away, a sealed chain groaned in deep protest, as if it sensed her presence.