The high mountain air shimmered, thick with the merciless heat of a midday sun. Fredericko sat, a statue of quiet contemplation, before his legendary sword—the Oathkeeper's Shadows. The black blade, said to drink light, rested across two polished stones, its presence a cool anchor in the oppressive warmth. His mind, however, offered no such respite, churning with the fate of his two sons, Aethel and Thorenz.
A quiet sigh escaped him. "I hope they are alright wherever they are," he mused, his gaze fixed on the ancient steel.
As he stared into the legendary darkness of the blade, the solemn warning of his late mother, Elsa, echoed through the chambers of his memory, as clear as the day she first spoke it: In the wrong hands, the sword could bring about great ruin.
"Normally, the one who returns home first, inherits the sword," he whispered, a grim weight settling on his chest. "But this... this is different..."
At the threshold, Roxanne stood, her silhouette framed by the dazzling light outside. Her eyes, sharp and perceptive, watched her husband's struggle. "I'm sure you'll make the right choice when the time is right," she said. Her voice, though low, cut through the quiet room like a sharp, clean blade, startling Fredericko from his reverie.
He turned to face his wife, the worry etched deep around his eyes. "I'm more worried about the boys' wellbeing than who inherits the sword," he confessed. "Especially Aethel. It's been ten days since they left home."
Roxanne entered with a majestic, unhurried grace that was her signature, moving to sit beside him. "Why?" she questioned, her tone direct.
"Well, for one, he inherited mother's powers," Fredericko explained, the words tasting strange on his tongue. "Mother was a very powerful magician when she was alive. One of such powers lies in her diamond-like eyes."
"What is this power?" Roxanne leaned in, captivated.
"The power to see the future," he replied simply. "I only saw Mother use this power once."
"How does it work?" Roxanne pressed.
"I honestly don't know. She never explained to me how it works. She didn't tell me the name either. Nothing," he said, shaking his head. "The only thing she did was foretell a future event, and it happened just the same way she said it, a few years after she said it."
"What was this future event?"
A shadow crossed Fredericko's face. "She warned of an impending conflict between humans and gods, one that could lead to the extinction of our race, humanity. Few years later, we fought a war against giants."
At his words, Roxanne's eyes widened, a mixture of shock, horror, and fear blossoming in their depths. She could scarcely believe the raw, terrifying power her late mother-in-law had possessed.
"She saw what was going to happen even years before it did?" Roxanne's brows furrowed in disbelief, matching the widening of her eyes.
"Yes," Fredericko confirmed grimly.
A sudden realization struck Roxanne, bringing her bolt upright. "Wait a minute."
"That might not be the only time she used it," she said slowly, her mind racing.
"What do you mean?" Fredericko asked, confused.
"When I was pregnant, she looked into my palm and started acting as if she saw something scary," Roxanne recounted, the memory suddenly vivid.
"I see. Did she tell you what she saw?" Fredericko asked, his curiosity piqued
"All she said was, 'the heart of men is extremely wicked.' And, 'two crowns, one cradle.' I wondered what this meant. It didn't sound scary enough at the time, so I ignored it," she finished, a new chill running through her.
"She said these when you were pregnant?" Fredericko questioned, his voice now taut.
"Yes, she did," Roxanne replied.
"Tch," Fredericko clicked his tongue, a harsh, irritated sound.
"What's the matter? Is something wrong?" Roxanne asked, her apprehension growing.
"That might have been a prophecy concerning our two sons, Aethel and Thorenz," Fredericko stated, his eyes dark with concern. "The thought of Aethel possessing such powers is scary."
The tension in the room coiled tight, thick and suffocating, yet it was instantly shattered by a joyful sound from outside.
"I'm home!..... Mother! Father! Thorenz!..... I've missed you guys!" Aethel's voice rang out, loud and full of youthful exuberance.
"Aethel is back!" Roxanne's eyes widened, transforming the earlier look of worry into pure, radiant joy. The sound of her son's voice, after ten long days of silence, was a balm to her soul.
"Is anyone home?!" Aethel's voice, ringing with impatience, resonated through the quiet, stone house.
Frederico and Roxanne rose in unison, rushing out of the room and towards the front entrance to greet him. They found him standing just inside the door, his travel-worn clothes dusty but his face alight with excitement.
"Aethel!" Roxanne exclaimed, joy bubbling up, irrepressible. She closed the distance between them in a heartbeat, pulling her son into a warm, desperate embrace. The firmness of his body, the scent of him, confirmed his safe return.
"Thank you, Mother," Aethel murmured into her shoulder, returning the hug with equal fervor.
As they broke apart, Aethel's gaze finally settled on his father, the imposing figure of Frederico standing a few paces away. "Father!" he shouted, bounding forward to jump into his arms. They shared a fierce, brief hug. "I've missed you guys so much."
Together, the three walked back inside. Roxanne, regaining her composure, announced she would prepare something for him to eat, leaving the two men in the main sitting area.
"So, how did your journey go?" Fredericko asked, his voice now softened with paternal relief.
"Fine, Father. Very peaceful," Aethel replied, settling into a large, cushioned chair.
"And what did you find out?" Fredericko questioned
Aethel's expression grew serious. "The rumors are true. There are humans beyond our borders."
"Really?" Fredericko questioned, a flicker of professional interest replacing the parental worry.
"Yes, Father," Aethel confirmed. "I went to a small country found on a hill, far beyond a great waterfall. It's called Dawn City."
"Dawn City, huh?" Fredericko echoed, testing the name.
"Yes, Father, Dawn City. Believe it or not, like its name suggests, it's always morning there. It never goes dark, and it never stops snowing. To be honest, it was paradise on earth, Father." Aethel sighed, his eyes distant with the memory.
"Wow," Fredericko said, a small smile touching his lips. "Sounds like you had a great time there."
"I did, Father. By the way, where is Thorenz? I haven't seen him since I returned." Aethel asked, his gaze scanning the room
Just then, Roxanne walked in, carrying a large, steaming plate of food. "Your brother isn't back yet," she said, placing the plate before Aethel.
The revelation hung in the air like a sudden drop in temperature. Aethel's eyes widened, fixed on his mother. He let out a nervous, disbelieving laugh. "Mother, you're joking, right?"
"Huh? Why would I joke about something like that?" Roxanne asked, genuinely confused, while Fredericko simply watched the scene unfold with silent, growing apprehension.
"Because I saw you all," Aethel insisted, his voice suddenly sharp. "I saw Father handing the Oathkeeper's Shadows to Thorenz, making him swear an oath to protect humanity, while you and other people celebrated the occasion. I saw this while I was in Dawn City."
"What? You saw all that?" Roxanne questioned, her hand flying to her chest.
"Yes, Mother." Aethel nodded
A thick silence descended between them, heavy and suffocating. Aethel looked from one parent to the other, seeing the strange fear in their eyes, and his casual disbelief turned into cold dread.
"Say something," he demanded, his voice trembling. "Where is Thorenz?"
Roxanne stepped forward, forcing herself to be calm. "Aethel, calm down. What you saw was the future. That's the power of your eyes."
"My Roogan?" Aethel questioned, the unfamiliar word leaving his lips. "It's awakened?"
"Yes, it grants you the power to see the future," Roxanne said softly.
"Roogan?" Fredericko finally spoke, his gaze intense. "Is that what you call your eyes?"
"Yes, Father," Aethel replied, his own confusion warring with alarm.
"Like your mother said, your Roogan is very powerful. It grants you the power to see the future," Fredericko confirmed, his expression grim.
"No! I don't believe you guys!" Aethel suddenly stood, shaking his head vehemently. "Thorenz!" He shouted his brother's name as he turned and strode quickly toward the hall, beginning a frantic search for the one person who should have been home before him.
The echoes of Aethel's desperate cry, "Thorenz!", bounced off the high ceiling of the hall. Roxanne and Fredericko exchanged a brief, weighted glance—a silent conversation passing between husband and wife.
"I think I've made my decision on who will inherit the Oathkeeper's Shadows," Fredericko whispered, his voice heavy with finality. "And I think you already know it, too."
"Yeah," Roxanne nodded, her eyes confirming his choice.
Frederico looked toward the sound of Aethel's retreating footsteps. "In the wrong hands, the sword could bring about great ruin. Aethel is too powerful. He's probably more powerful than Mother was. His Roogan alone makes him almost invincible. When you add his magical powers to that, he becomes untouchable."
"Yeah," Roxanne agreed again, her heart sinking at the recognition of the truth.
"There is something about Aethel's eyes that truly scares me," Fredericko confessed, leaning in slightly.
"What is it?" Roxanne asked, dreading the answer.
Frederick explained, his voice low and solemn: "You see, Aethel's Roogan isn't just foresight—it's memory of the future. His diamond-like eyes don't predict—they recall. He experiences flashes of what's to come not as potential visions, but as moments he's already lived, fragmented and echoing. The more he awakens the power, the more timelines bleed into his mind, not as choices, but as inevitabilities. He doesn't see all paths—he sees the one that holds, the one that resists change. And that's what haunts him: the sense that free will is an illusion, and he's merely walking a road already written. The Roogan doesn't show him power—it shows him burden. And every step forward feels less like choice, more like surrender. It's truly terrifying."
"What?" Roxanne's eyes widened, a cold wash of fear chilling her blood. The implications of this power were far darker than simple prophecy.
Meanwhile, Aethel, driven by a panicked certainty that his parents were lying, tore through the house. He threw open the door to his parents' bedchamber and his breath hitched. There, laid neatly across a velvet cloth, was the legendary Oathkeeper's Shadows.
So, it's true. Thorenz isn't back yet, he mused, the reality sinking in. This also confirms that Father and Mother's claim of the Roogan granting me the ability to see the future is true also. A flicker of the celebrated image—Thorenz holding the black sword—returned to him. Then does that mean the future I saw of Thorenz inheriting the Oathkeeper's Shadows will inevitably come to pass?
Shaken, he spun around and raced back to the sitting room. "Father!"
As he walked in, Fredericko and Roxanne lifted their faces to meet his troubled gaze. "What is it?" Fredericko asked.
"Father, I came back before Thorenz," Aethel said, his voice rising with a desperate edge. "Doesn't that make me the winner of this test? Doesn't that mean I'll inherit the Oathkeeper's Shadows?"
"Normally, yes. However—" Fredericko paused, his eyes holding a stern gentleness.
"However?" Aethel prompted, confusion replacing panic.
"We shall await your brother's return," Fredericko stated firmly, offering no further explanation. He stood and, with a heavy step, turned and walked toward his room, leaving Aethel alone with his mother, the question hanging unanswered between them.
Far away, in the small settlement of Welbgard, the preparations for war continued with a renewed, grim determination.
Laura scanned the faces of her comrades, a deep line of worry creasing her forehead. "Where is Thorenz?" she asked Dan, a Welbgardian training nearby.
Dan shrugged, his hands resting on his spear. "I don't know, Laura. He came here yesterday morning and told us to continue training until he returns. We haven't seen him ever since."
Laura felt a knot tighten in her stomach. It had been nearly fifty hours since she last saw him, and her worry was turning into genuine alarm.
Despite the persistent absence of their key organizer, the state of Welbgard was measurably improving. The crucial spring had been successfully purified, and the people were now able to eat well and drink clean water, bringing a huge, life-saving upgrade from the destitution of only a few days ago. The sick among them remained sick, lacking a doctor to tend to them, but the foundation of survival had been secured.
Unable to quell the mounting anxiety, Laura dropped her training gear. She had to find him. Her worry transcended logistics; it was a profound concern for the strange young man who had brought salvation to their gates.
Driven by her mounting concern, Laura left the training grounds and began her search for Thorenz. She retraced the paths he usually took, questioning anyone who might have seen him, until she came across a peculiar sight near the outskirts of the settlement: a rough, almost perfectly circular hole carved into the earth. Out of curiosity—and a faint, desperate hope—she approached it. The hole looked unnatural, almost like a massive, abandoned well. Taking a deep breath, Laura decided to investigate and stepped over the edge.
The deeper she went, the darker and colder the shaft became. The scent of damp earth and stale air replaced the fresh mountain breeze. Her descent was long, difficult, and utterly silent, pressing on her nerves until she felt a desperate urge to turn back. This is ridiculous, she thought, pausing to catch her breath, ready to admit defeat and climb out.
But just as she began to turn, a small, ethereal light flickered into existence far below her. It was a soft, pale blue, like a captured star. Laura froze, surprise and curiosity instantly overriding her fatigue. What in the gods' names is that?
Consequently, she abandoned all thoughts of turning around and began to follow the mysterious glow, intent on unraveling the mystery. Unlike her earlier, desperate plunge, the journey downward now became easier on her eyes. The deeper she went, the brighter the ethereal light became, illuminating the rough-hewn stone walls around her.
Finally, the tunnel opened into a large subterranean cavern. The small, blue light she had followed originated from a single, low-hanging crystalline orb—but it was the ambient light of the cavern that stole her breath.
She had stumbled into a treasure trove. The floor, the walls, and seemingly everything within the cavern was streaked, veined, and piled with glittering gold. It wasn't just ore; it was a wealth beyond imagining, reflecting the crystalline light in a blinding, warm glow.
And there, standing amidst the unbelievable opulence, was Thorenz. He was motionless, staring at the golden hoard, a strange, fixed grin on his face.
"Thorenz?" Laura called out, her voice a thin, shaky echo in the vast, echoing space.
He turned his head slowly, his eyes wild and glittering like the treasure surrounding him. The fixed grin widened, transforming his features into something unnerving.
"Hahaha," he laughed, the sound hollow and triumphant. "Welbgard, the land of gold!"