The night had gone silent.
Smoke drifted through the ruins of the village.
The flames had died down, leaving only embers and the faint crackle of what once was.
Aerin stood alone.
The air still felt heavy around him.
Unsettled.
Watching.
A movement caught his eye.
The scarred man.
Still alive.
Dragging himself across the ground, leaving a trail behind him.
One leg gone.
Breathing uneven.
Desperate.
Aerin stared.
For a moment, he did not move.
Then his gaze shifted.
A bow lay nearby.
Arrows scattered beside it.
He walked toward it slowly.
Picked it up.
Turned it in his hand.
Unfamiliar.
Heavy.
He set an arrow.
Clumsy.
His fingers struggled to hold the string steady.
He pulled—
Released.
The arrow struck the ground.
Short.
Useless.
The man looked back.
Panic filled his eyes.
"…Please… don't…"
He tried to crawl faster.
But there was nowhere to go.
Aerin began to laugh.
Low at first.
Then louder.
Uncontrolled.
The sound broke halfway through.
Twisted.
Tears ran down his face.
They darkened as they fell.
"…I begged you…" he said, his voice shaking.
"…didn't I…?"
His grip tightened.
He dropped the bow.
Picked up a sword lying in the dirt.
He walked forward.
Step by step.
The man shook his head violently.
"I'll do anything—please—just—!"
Aerin drove the blade down.
Through the man's remaining leg.
The scream tore through the silence.
Aerin tried to pull the blade free.
Tried to strike again—
But his strength failed him.
His arms trembled.
The blade slipped.
He stood there.
Breathing hard.
Shaking.
Then slowly—
He bent down.
Picked up a stone.
"I said…"
His voice broke.
"…I would kill you."
The first strike landed.
Then another.
And another.
Each one heavier than the last.
The man's cries filled the night—
Then weakened.
Then faded.
Aerin did not stop.
Time passed.
He did not know how long.
By the time the first light of morning touched the horizon—
The man no longer moved.
Silence returned.
Aerin stood over what remained.
Breathing slowly now.
Empty.
He turned away.
The village was gone.
Homes reduced to ash.
Bodies scattered where they had fallen.
People he knew.
People who had lived.
Gone.
Aerin walked among them.
One by one.
He gathered them.
His father.
Still.
Unmoving.
His mother.
The twins.
Lira.
Mira.
He stopped.
For a long time.
Then he knelt.
The ground was hard.
But he dug anyway.
With his hands.
With whatever he could find.
One grave.
Then another.
And another.
Until they were all buried.
The sun had risen fully by the time he finished.
Light touched the land.
But it brought no warmth.
Aerin stood before the graves.
Silent.
Still.
Then he spoke.
Quietly.
But with certainty.
"I will find him."
His eyes darkened.
"And I will kill him."
He turned away.
And began to walk.
Behind him—
Nothing remained.
But buried deep within him—
A memory lingered.
A voice.
A conversation he was never meant to hear.
A name.
Vaelric.
Aerin did not look back.