The morning broke with a thick blanket of fog rolling over the village of Kaelthorn, muting the landscape into shades of gray. The cold air was damp, clinging to Serenya’s skin as she followed Drenic through the empty streets. The villagers moved like ghosts in the haze, heads bowed and bodies wrapped in threadbare cloaks.
Serenya pulled her hood low, her unease growing with every step. The events of the previous night had left her shaken, and the weight of the Shade Mark pressed heavy on her mind.
“Where are we going?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“To the edge of the village,” Drenic replied, his tone clipped.
“Why?”
“Because Marten’s right—sitting still isn’t an option. And I’d rather not wait here for more Veil assassins to show up.”
His hand hovered near the hilt of his dagger as they moved, his gray eyes scanning the fog for signs of danger.
The path out of Kaelthorn was narrow and winding, cutting through dense woods that loomed in the haze like twisted sentinels. The damp air muffled their footsteps, but the eerie quiet only heightened Serenya’s unease.
“How do you know where we’re going?” she asked, breaking the silence.
“I don’t,” Drenic said with a faint smirk. “But I know where we can’t stay. That’s enough for now.”
Serenya scowled, but before she could reply, a soft rustling from the trees stopped them both in their tracks.
Drenic held up a hand, motioning for her to stay silent. His dagger was in his hand instantly, the blade gleaming faintly in the fog.
“Stay behind me,” he murmured, his voice low.
The rustling grew louder, the sound of leaves shifting and branches snapping underfoot. Serenya’s heart pounded as the shadows in the fog began to take shape.
A group of figures emerged, their forms cloaked and their movements deliberate. There were five of them, each armed with swords or daggers that glinted menacingly in the dim light.
“Drenic Vael,” one of them said, his voice cold and sharp. “And the Oracle. How fortunate.”
Drenic’s smirk returned, though there was no humor in it. “You must be with the Veil. Nice to finally meet the people trying so hard to kill me.”
The leader stepped forward, his hood falling back to reveal a scarred face and piercing black eyes. “Hand over the girl, and we’ll consider letting you live.”
“Tempting,” Drenic replied, his tone light. “But I think I’ll pass.”
The leader’s lips curled into a sneer. “Then you’ll die with her.”
The air shifted, heavy with the promise of violence. Drenic moved first, lunging at the closest assassin with the speed of a striking viper. His dagger flashed, catching the man off guard and slicing through his side.
Serenya stumbled back as the fight erupted around her, the fog swallowing the clash of blades and the cries of pain. Her instincts screamed at her to run, but there was nowhere to go.
The leader advanced on her, his sword raised.
“Stay back!” she shouted, her hand going to the pendant beneath her cloak. The magic inside flared to life, raw and desperate.
A vision surged through her mind: the leader lunging, his blade aimed for her chest, and the movement she needed to survive—a single sidestep and a sharp push.
The vision faded just as the man attacked. Serenya moved instinctively, sidestepping his strike and shoving him off balance. He stumbled, cursing as his sword struck the ground instead of her.
Drenic fought like a man possessed, his movements fluid and relentless. He ducked under one attacker’s swing, driving his dagger into the man’s thigh before twisting away to block another strike.
“Serenya, move!” he shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos.
She scrambled backward, narrowly avoiding another swing from the leader. Her pulse thundered in her ears as she reached for the pendant again, the magic burning beneath her skin.
“Show me what to do,” she whispered, her voice trembling.
The vision came quickly, fragments of the fight unfolding in her mind’s eye: Drenic disarming one assassin, the leader turning his blade toward her, and a fallen branch lying within reach.
Her eyes snapped open, and she moved without thinking. She grabbed the branch and swung it at the leader’s head, the impact sending him reeling.
“Drenic, now!” she shouted.
Drenic didn’t hesitate. He drove his dagger into the leader’s side, the blade sinking deep. The man gasped, his body convulsing before crumpling to the ground.
The remaining assassins hesitated, their confidence wavering.
“Run,” Drenic growled, his voice low and dangerous.
They obeyed, disappearing into the fog like shadows retreating from the light.
The clearing fell silent, the only sounds their labored breaths and the faint rustle of leaves in the wind.
Drenic leaned against a tree, blood dripping from a shallow cut on his cheek. “That went better than expected,” he muttered, his smirk faint.
Serenya sank to the ground, her body trembling. “They’re not going to stop, are they?”
“No,” Drenic said, wiping his dagger clean. “But we just sent a message: we’re not easy prey.”
She looked at him, her eyes filled with fear and determination. “We have to stop them.”
“We will,” he said, his tone steady. “But first, we need to figure out where they’re coming from—and who’s pulling the strings.”
They didn’t linger. The bodies of the fallen assassins were left where they lay, a grim reminder of the battle they’d just survived.
As they moved deeper into the woods, Serenya’s thoughts raced. The magic inside her felt raw and volatile, its power both a blessing and a curse. She clutched the pendant tightly, its pulse steady beneath her fingers.
“Your visions,” Drenic said suddenly, breaking the silence. “They’re getting faster, aren’t they?”
She nodded. “I think it’s because the danger’s so close. The more desperate I am, the clearer they become.”
“And the cost?”
She hesitated. “It’s… harder to recover each time. I feel weaker, like it’s draining something from me.”
Drenic frowned but didn’t reply.
By the time they reached another clearing, the sun was beginning to set, casting the woods in golden light. Drenic motioned for Serenya to sit while he scouted the area, his dagger still in hand.
As she rested, Serenya let her thoughts drift to Vaylen. If anyone could help her make sense of the visions and the Onyx Veil’s relentless pursuit, it was him.
“Where are you now?” she murmured to herself.
Her fingers brushed the pendant again, its magic humming faintly in response.
Far from the clearing, in the shadowed halls of an ancient stronghold, another assassin knelt before a figure cloaked in black.
“They failed,” the assassin said, his voice trembling.
The figure’s crimson eyes gleamed beneath the hood. “And the Oracle?”
“Alive, but—”
“Enough,” the figure interrupted, their voice cold and sharp. “The Onyx Veil does not tolerate failure.”
The assassin bowed his head, his body trembling. “We will not fail again.”
“No,” the figure said softly, their tone laced with malice. “You won’t.”
They stepped forward, their shadow stretching long across the stone floor.
“Send word to the others,” they commanded. “The Oracle will not escape again. And this time… I’ll deal with her myself.”
***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***
Updated 53 Episodes
Download
Like this story? Download the app to keep your reading history.
Comments