I never expected to feel something real for her.
What started as a strategic alliance between the Pilcrow and Valreth clans was supposed to be simple. Convenient. I was just a pawn, a piece in a game far larger than myself. My role was clear: honor the union, strengthen the clan, and never get attached.
But everything changed.
At first, I only noticed her flaws—her stubbornness, the way she corrected me in public, her icy indifference. She was sharp, proud, unapologetically herself. Yet beneath that pride, I discovered something rare. Something fragile.
A kindness she barely let show. A warmth that could shatter the walls I had built around my heart. Her laugh… fleeting, yet powerful enough to undo me.
Her contradictions became what I loved most. Eloryn never tried to please anyone, and that was exactly why I couldn't stop thinking about her—not her beauty, not her status, but her truth.
Today was our symbolic union ceremony. The elders and nobles would see it as politics. I saw only her. And the thought terrified me.
The plaza was radiant, bathed in the soft morning light. Banners of gold and crimson fluttered in the breeze, each bearing the sigils of our clans. The scent of fresh bread, roasted herbs, and ceremonial incense filled the air. Nobles exchanged pleasantries, their voices a hum beneath the rising sun. At the far end, the Academy Ramdor towered, its spires gleaming like blades of light.
Everything felt unreal. Almost too perfect. Almost fragile.
Eloryn walked toward me with her usual confidence, steps deliberate, radiating control and poise. Her ceremonial robe shimmered in white and gold, embroidered with the Valreth sigil—a phoenix rising from ash. Her eyes met mine, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just us.
Reynor nudged me from the side, grinning, reading my racing thoughts.
"You don't look comfortable here," he teased.
"You're right," I muttered, feigning nonchalance. "I'd rather be training."
"Or dreaming about defeating a master of Eryon," he added with a laugh.
"Or just not fainting the next time I try to use my Eryon," I said.
Reynor chuckled, concern lingering in his eyes. He had seen my struggles—the instability, the crimson energy pulsing beneath my skin like living fire.
Eloryn's smile, radiant and effortless, struck me. For a fleeting moment, I believed nothing could ruin this day.
Then the sky tore open.
A metallic roar ripped through the plaza, resonating deep in my chest. The air vibrated, thick with energy that made my hair rise. A dark portal had opened above the square, spilling shadows that twisted and writhed toward us.
The Wretches had arrived.
Creatures of torn flesh, eyes glowing yellow, crimson marks carved across their chests—they moved with terrifying purpose, converging on the center of the ceremony. Their presence was wrong. A corruption of the Eryon itself.
The masters reacted instantly. One summoned a silver Eryon shield enveloping the nobles. Another raised a blade wreathed in energy, cutting down a dozen Wretches with a single swing. Chaos erupted, precise and lethal.
I could only watch.
"Something is coming," a master whispered, voice tight. "Protect the guests… contain it at all costs."
My fists clenched beneath my robe. My Eryon burned inside me—latent, unstable, crimson—but I had never controlled it like this. Not under pressure. Not with stakes this high.
Reynor leaned closer, voice sharp. "Don't move unless you're ready. That energy inside you… it's not normal."
"I know," I murmured. "But I can't just stand here."
A Wretch slithered behind Eloryn, fast and silent.
"ELORYN!" I screamed.
I lunged. Every fiber of my being propelled me forward. The creature's claw tore through my side—but something inside me snapped. Something alive, crimson, and terrifying.
My Eryon erupted.
The energy surged outward, a living fire consuming the Wretches in black dust. Waves of crimson rolled across the courtyard, striking the remaining enemies and shielding the guests from harm. The ground trembled. The air thickened. My vision blurred.
Reynor screamed my name. The masters froze, astonished. None had ever seen such raw, unbridled power.
I collapsed to my knees, gasping, a fierce hunger radiating from the energy within me. Eloryn pressed her hand against my wound, eyes wide with shock and awe.
"Auren… what… what did you do?"
"What I had to," I whispered. "I protected you."
From the shadows, a voice echoed in my mind:
"The Crimson has awakened…"
Dragged to safety, I watched the masters move with poetry and precision. Every motion calculated, every strike deliberate. I wanted that. I wanted to be like them. I wanted control, mastery, power beyond what I had imagined.
Maris, an older master with eyes like steel, approached me. "Pilcrow… that Eryon… it's unstable, yet you channeled it under extreme pressure. Unprecedented."
I clenched my teeth, crimson energy thrumming beneath my skin. "I will learn," I said. "I will master it. And I will not let it harm anyone again."
Eloryn's hand tightened around mine. "Then we face it together," she said.
But even as I nodded, a thought chilled me. This Eryon wasn't just power. It could devour me if I failed. And if I couldn't control it…
The voice whispered again, clearer this time:
"You will challenge gods… and you will survive."
The courtyard fell silent. Survivors' breaths misted in the cool morning air. Nobles stared, incredulous. Masters exchanged cautious looks. Even Reynor seemed lost for words.
"You… you did that?" he finally asked.
"I didn't choose this," I said, wincing as pain cut through my side. "It chose me."
Eloryn knelt beside me, fingers brushing against the crimson-stained fabric. "You're… unlike anyone I've ever met," she murmured, awe and fear mingling.
I met her gaze. "Neither are you," I whispered.
A low rumble came from the remains of the portal. Something greater had been awakened by the surge of my power.
From the shadows, a Prime Wretch emerged—larger, smarter, far more dangerous than the others. Its eyes glowed with malevolence and intelligence. It paused, studying us, before vanishing through a shimmering portal.
"That was no ordinary Wretch," Maris said. "You've drawn attention. Stronger ones will come."
I clenched my fists. Crimson energy simmered beneath my skin, alive, waiting. "Then I will be ready."
Reynor stepped forward, eyes wide. "You're not… human anymore, are you?"
I shook my head slowly. The taste of blood and power mixed in my mouth. "I'm something else," I admitted. "And I have to become stronger. No matter the cost."
Eloryn's gaze hardened. Determination flickered behind fear. "Then let's survive this… together."
The wind carried a distant, guttural roar. The red mark of Kael'thor's influence lingered, a warning and a promise. My path was clear. Born of fire and blood, fueled by destiny.
And deep inside, I felt it—the hunger, the power, the inevitability. I would protect those I loved. I would master the Crimson Eryon. And one day… I would surpass every limit the world had set for me.
Even if it meant defying the gods themselves.