The night wrapped its heavy cloak around the dirt road bordering the Forest of Nothingness, where Valerian walked slowly and cautiously, with Thomas at his side—a quiet, diligent servant, tracing his steps with utmost care. He did not understand the mystery of the smoke surrounding his master, nor did he know more than that it was a cryptic sign of something far greater and deeper than this familiar, visible world—something he had never seen before, something that glowed in a strange way, stirring both bewilderment and awe. Thomas whispered to himself in a hushed tone, trying to suppress his anxiety but unable to hide the tremor in his left hand, from which emanated a hesitant breath: "This is no ordinary power. I see it as mere vapor, yet the cold that accompanies it tells me something entirely different." Valerian smiled faintly, a smile that carried the depth of experience and an understanding of hidden secrets: "It is anything but ordinary, Thomas."
Thomas replied, as if the words had left his mouth without forethought, revealing the simplicity of his ability yet remaining earnest in his speech: "How so, Master? Do you see in my smoke an omen of coffee, or is it merely smoke?" Valerian smiled with an unexpected spontaneity, as if their conversation was a way to draw closer rather than mere talk: "No, but you always reveal more than you conceal, even in silence."
Thomas laughed softly, feeling the weight of the moment dissipate slightly between them, fighting against the cold that had taken hold of their bodies. It was three in the morning, and the biting air pierced through their bones, echoing every beat in Valerian's chest as he journeyed not just along the measurable road ahead, but through the depths of his soul, where things lay hidden beneath the surface. The two moved slowly and heavily, each wrapping their arms around themselves in a futile attempt to shield their bodies from the night's cold—a cold that seemed to scatter souls before it even touched skin. And Valerian's smoke, that hidden theater of everything, rose weakly from his chest, curling around his back like an embrace emerging from nothingness.
Thomas shuddered as he sensed this mysterious power enveloping his master, and whispered in a voice mingled with fear and envy: "Master… is this what your long slumber has brought you?" Valerian replied, his eyes fixed on the dark road ahead: "Its name is Kain… Don't you find it beautiful?"
Thomas lowered his head, as if the light had blinded his heart before his eyes, as if the answer could not be spoken:
"Beautiful… but I, like most people, am a summoner. Voices from the past whisper in my veins—I pulse with them, I borrow them… But your radiance—it emerges from within you, as if you've carried it since eternity." Valerian paused for a moment,the words weighing heavily on his soul before he said in a soft, contemplative voice: "Perhaps because my smoke shares with me things unseen—things whose weight is only felt in moments unlike any other."
Then he raised his gaze toward the sky and whispered slowly:
"Radiance is both a birth and a curse. Those who carry it live between awe and helplessness, while others flee from what they cannot grasp." Silence enveloped them once more, the cold deepening the pallor of their faces, while the movement of his smoke glowed with a faint, quiet luminescence—like a pulse emanating from some unknown otherworld.
The air shuddered as if the entire universe held its breath, and the shadows among the trees whispered of an approaching heaviness, carrying answers that elude human tongues. After their conversation ended,the smoke that had coiled behind Valerian's back like a faint embrace began to stretch out gently. It detached from him and crept slowly toward the surrounding mist, merging with it in a quiet, dancing motion—rising and breathing like an invisible entity.
That movement gradually expanded, forming a serene circle that covered a wide area, stretching hundreds of meters into the dense darkness. Within this mysterious circle, the slightest movements and softest whispers were captured and monitored, as though invisible eyes pierced every shadow and watched the world in unceasing silence. Valerian stood motionless, the smoke still embracing him from behind, intertwined with his consciousness like a silent extension of a mysterious, ever-watchful guardian force. It observed with a quiet intensity that pierced the surrounding stillness in complete neutrality.
The mist began to dance around them with a gentle sway, like a soft breeze carrying the signature of mystery and secrecy. From the cracks in the forest emerged the echo of unusual footsteps—the sound of small twigs snapping, followed by the appearance of a mysterious movement: a group of highwaymen slipped out like ghosts, emerging one after another in deadly silence. Suddenly, they halted as if colliding with a hidden force of intuition. Valerian slowly raised his index finger to his lips, signaling Thomas to remain completely silent. He bent forward gently, his eyes fixed on a dark patch shimmering among the shadows—hiding secrets the night refused to reveal.
He said to him in a deep, calm voice: "Stay here. Don't move, and don't make a sound." Valerian moved with extreme caution, as if his steps were sacred rituals, producing only a faint, almost inaudible whisper as he approached the shadows concealing deeper meanings. There, he saw those shadows holding red ether crystals, shimmering softly amid the overwhelming darkness. Before him stood three iron carriages adorned with golden anchor insignias and blue waves dancing along their sides. Each carriage was drawn by four massive Clydesdale horses, followed by a protective escort carriage. He overheard the whispers of two laborers carrying heavy stones, exchanging words with bitter caution: "Damn, they're truly powerful. Have you ever seen how that stone idiot fled?"
The other replied warily, his voice pulsing with fear and anxiety: "Hurry up, I don't want to lose my head… I have mouths to feed waiting for me." Valerian wove between the carriages with a rare gaze that captured every detail, hunting for any suspicious movement. He spotted a small tent looming in the shadows and crept toward it with light, silent steps, as if circling a secret of heaven and earth.
He heard a voice charged with anger emanating from inside the tent: "Damn… this time the cost won't remain the same. Who would have thought we'd face a second-class manifested gargoyle? The earth's rocks moved as if they were extensions of its body… and that breed alone is enough to wipe out an entire hunting party." A calm, steady voice chimed in: "Don't worry, your efforts won't be in vain."
Then came the intriguing tone of a woman, her voice filling the air with mystery and wonder, saying: "It seems we have a guest… too shy to join our wat—"
Before she could finish her sentence, she appeared exactly where Valerian had been, as if the place had preserved the imprint of his presence. Her eyes scanned the area with vigilance and caution, then she slowly drew in the air, inhaling every whisper of the place, capturing the subtle scent left behind by the stranger—as if reading what lingered. For a moment that felt like an eternity, her figure lingered, then withdrew in gloomy silence and vanished into the shadows that embraced her, as if she had never been there at all.
Suddenly, a worker's scream pierced the air, shouting in anxiety and astonishment: "It's a thief! A thief, a thief…!"
The five figures emerged from the tent like phantoms, soundless, rushing toward the carriages with a mix of panic and caution.
As for Valerian, he had taken refuge behind a massive rock just meters away. Behind him, smoke mingled with mist, and sweat poured from his forehead as he muttered angrily: "Damn… that was too close. If not for luck…" Then he added with a grumble and anger filled with blame: "What did that fool do? You were supposed to stay put as I ordered, motionless… Damn it, damn it."
In a swift, calculated move, he pulled a smoky cloak from behind him, fading and merging with the misty fog, completely concealing himself from sight—as if he had dissolved into the night's darkness, wrapped in its eternal allure.
The night returned to him the secret of presence and absence, casting its heavy shadows over the coming chapters of conflict, carrying within its folds tales of mystery, horror, and thrill.