The Obsidian Keep was cloaked in shadows, the stone halls eerily silent as the scouts returned. Their cloaks were torn, armor scratched and dented, and their faces carried the unmistakable weight of fear.
General Kaelith stood at the center of the war room, his arms crossed, eyes like steel. He did not flinch as the first scout stumbled into the chamber.
"Report," he commanded, voice cold and unyielding.
The scout bowed deeply, sweat beading on his brow. "General… the boy is… stronger than expected. The light, it—"
"Do not speak of it as if it is magic or superstition!" Kaelith snapped, stepping closer. His presence pressed on the scout like a physical weight. "The boy is a threat, yes. But he is mortal. He can be tracked. He can be killed. Speak clearly!"
The scout swallowed hard. "The scouts approached him. We attempted capture, but his power… it erupted. Two of our men were thrown aside like rag dolls. We could not get close. He…" The words faltered. "He is unlike anything we have ever seen."
Kaelith's jaw tightened. "You call yourselves soldiers of the Shadow Legion and you failed to apprehend one child?" His voice was low now, deliberate, a threat in every syllable. "Do you understand what failure means?"
"Yes… General," the scout whispered, his knees trembling.
Kaelith's eyes narrowed, burning with cold fury. "Failure means death. Do you understand?"
"Yes… General," the scout repeated, voice shaking.
He turned sharply, his cloak swirling like smoke. "This boy… the cursed star child… he will not escape again. You will tell the king that the first strike failed, but the second will succeed. I will not tolerate incompetence."
The scouts shifted uncomfortably, exchanging glances. They had seen the boy, felt the power ripple through the air, and yet Kaelith's fury made it impossible to breathe without trembling.
"General," another scout ventured, "if we strike again… we cannot predict the extent of his power. We risk…"
Kaelith's glare silenced him instantly. "You risk nothing but your own hesitation. The boy is mortal, and every mortal has a weakness. Find it. Exploit it. End him. That is your only task. Leave no stone unturned, no path unsearched."
The scouts bowed, silent. Even in failure, Kaelith's authority pressed down upon them, unbroken and absolute.
Kaelith moved to the war table, spreading maps of the wasteland before him. Tiny markings showed where the scouts had approached, where the boy had been sighted. Lines connected villages, ridges, and cliffs, tracing a path of movement he intended to predict.
"They are young, inexperienced," he muttered, mostly to himself. "But they underestimate him. And that is why we will succeed next time."
A shadow fell across the maps as he straightened. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword. "The boy cannot hide forever. The wasteland is vast, but he is a child. He tires. He grows stronger, yes… but every increase in strength leaves a trace, a moment of weakness. And we will find it."
The scouts shivered under his gaze, realizing that Kaelith did not simply plan — he predicted. Every movement, every breath the boy took would be accounted for.
Kaelith leaned back, his eyes scanning the maps once more. "The hunt is far from over," he said, voice low and steady. "The cursed star child may have won today… but the Shadow Legion will not fail twice."
The room was silent except for the sound of the scouts' controlled breathing. Outside, the wind howled against the keep, carrying the faint echo of a child's power that had humiliated some of the kingdom's most feared soldiers.
And yet, Kaelith did not flinch.
He had waited long for this moment.
And he would see it through, no matter the cost.