The sound came back first.
Irregular.
Scattered.
Metal against stone — without rhythm.
Breathing — too loud for the space.
One man stood up fast.
Another still hadn't.
A third stopped mid-motion.
As if he had lost the reason.
Eyes took time to focus.
When they did… it was already too late.
Hands on sword hilts.
Firm — for too long.
No one let go immediately.
Silence tried to form.
Failed.
Broke between small gestures out of time.
The room stood again.
Not aligned.
Doros's eyes passed over the men.
One by one.
The disorder was still there.
In the gestures.
In the wrong timing between intent and movement.
They stopped on Aldric.
His hand still on the sword hilt.
Now firm.
Present.
A slight nod.
Enough of an answer.
Doros released his own blade.
Steel met the sheath with a dry sound.
His gaze returned.
Fixed on Éreon.
"The sun rises in a few hours."
"Five thousand men marched with it."
A slight tilt of the head.
"Tell me…"
"is that also solved by imposing a rule?"
Éreon did not answer immediately.
His gaze remained on Doros.
Without resistance.
"It is."
The word came simple.
Without weight to it.
"When the cost is understood."
Éreon's gaze moved through the room.
The men.
The hands still tense.
The echo of what had been imposed.
Then it returned.
"But that's not what matters now."
"It would be more useful…"
A pause.
"to know how many men you still have within the walls."
"And how many of them have awakened."
Doros held the gaze for a moment longer.
A faint trace appeared.
Not a smile.
Almost.
"Curious."
The voice came low.
"For someone who seems to know so much…"
"you let enough slip."
His eyes did not leave Éreon.
"You knew about my informants."
"About those who stopped speaking."
A short pause.
"And even so… you missed this."
His gaze shifted briefly across the room.
Returned.
"The barony does not have gold to sustain awakened."
Simple.
Direct.
"We hold these walls with what there is."
"Mercenaries."
"And the few knights that still remain."
Silence.
"If you want numbers…"
A brief pause.
"We count five hundred knights."
"And one hundred fifty mercenaries."
Silence.
"As for the awakened…"
A short gesture with the hand.
"there are six within these walls."
"Two, however, cannot fight."
His eyes remained firm.
"Leaving four."
Silence settled.
Éreon did not look away.
"Then… include me among them."
The voice came low.
Steady.
Like someone who does not ask for space.
Doros held his gaze.
"I already did."
"That…"
A slight adjustment of posture.
"is all the strength this barony can offer."
Silence did not move.
Éreon remained still for a moment.
"Four… counting me."
"And still… one is missing."
His eyes did not leave Doros.
"I did not see them among those present."
"Absent… in a decision that defines the fate of these walls."
Doros did not look away.
"It is… not a simple matter."
The voice came contained.
"She came of her own will."
His eyes narrowed a degree.
"To remain confined."
"And await the end."
The air did not change.
But the attention did.
Éreon tilted his head slightly.
"A war rises over these lands…"
The voice remained calm.
"and still…"
"she chose to wither among the stone."
His eyes did not yield.
"Instead of falling in the field."
Doros did not answer.
His silence was enough of an answer.
Éreon held it for a moment.
"Show me the way."
Simple.
Direct.
Doros did not move.
"And what do you intend to do?"
The question came without open confrontation.
But firm.
Éreon did not hesitate.
"To ask… that she stand with us."
His gaze did not change.
"With due respect."
Éreon turned.
Began to walk toward the exit.
Stopped before crossing it.
Without looking back—
"And the man mentioned by the informant?"
"Where do you keep him?"
Éreon's gaze slid to the side.
Doros held his gaze.
"Locked."
"In one of the cells."
Éreon made a slight gesture with his hand.
Opening space.
Doros looked at Aldric.
Nothing was said.
He began to walk.
Aldric followed him.
They passed by Éreon.
Who moved right after.
His gaze shifted.
Found Madéa.
An instant.
Nothing was said.
He followed.
She watched until the three figures were lost in the corridor.
The light did not follow them for long.
Then she turned to Kael.
"Do you wish to follow them?"
The voice came soft.
Kael did not move.
"It won't be necessary."
"He does not retreat from what he declares."
Madéa observed him for a moment longer.
"Why did you ask me to come?"
The question carried no doubt.
Only intent.
Kael breathed.
Slow.
"Because Gaia's last words…"
"were of choice."
A brief silence.
"a name was left."
"Yours."
Madéa remained still.
"She said that if anyone could still act for these lands…"
"it would be you."
Silence stretched for a moment.
Kael spoke:
"What is your connection to them?"
The voice came low.
Without accusation.
Madéa turned her gaze to him.
"I do not know Gaia."
There was a brief pause.
"As for Éreon…"
"there was only a debt."
Kael did not insist.
Remained quiet.
Madéa took a minimal step.
Adjusting his support before even speaking.
"You should not remain standing."
The voice kept the same tone.
"Come."
"I will guide you to a place where you can rest."
Kael yielded.
She supported him better now.
Guiding the movement.
With no apparent effort.
On the other side of the castle—
the air weighed differently.
The stone closed the space.
The silence… was not the same.
The corridor narrowed.
Torches fixed to the stone. The light failed between them.
Three shadows advanced.
The guard reacted before seeing.
His hand went to the sword hilt.
"Who goes there?"
The voice cut through the space.
Firm.
The shadows defined themselves.
The first stepped forward.
Dark hair, loose.
Light brown eyes.
The guard froze for an instant.
His hand left the steel.
His body straightened immediately.
"Lord Doros."
His head lowered.
"Commander."
A brief glance passed over Aldric.
Did not remain.
Returned to the first.
"Forgive me."
"I did not expect your presence."
A short pause.
"How may I serve?"
Doros did not stop.
"Open."
Simple.
Without deviation.
The guard did not hesitate.
He turned.
The key was already in his hand.
The iron responded before the gesture finished.
A dry sound.
Heavy.
The door gave way.
The air came first.
Colder.
Older.
Doros entered.
Without waiting.
Éreon followed him.
Aldric stopped at the threshold.
His gaze passed over the guard.
"No one enters… until the lord leaves."
The guard nodded immediately.
"Yes, commander."
Aldric moved.
Entered.
The light stayed outside.
The air did not change.
It only closed.
Doros stopped.
Before one of the cells.
Éreon said nothing.
His eyes moved.
Slow.
The stone.
Older there.
The damp trapped in the joints.
The iron.
Too thick to hold just a man.
Éreon advanced.
Stopping beside Doros.
His gaze went to the back of the cell—
A figure.
Still.
Pale skin did not hide the wear.
The flush… out of place.
Pink hair fell without care.
Breathing almost imperceptible.
Nothing there suggested resistance.
Only permanence.
"What kind of crime demands this?"
The voice came low.
His eyes did not leave her.
"And what kind of guilt chooses to remain like this."
Éreon looked away.
Met Doros.
No answer.
A brief silence formed.
"If you cannot say…"
"then I will speak with the one who can."
He did not wait for an answer.
Advanced.
The cell was not locked.
He crossed the iron without hesitation.
Stopped a few steps from the figure.
"Why choose to rot in stone… when you can still stand?"
The voice did not rise.
The figure at the back moved.
Raised her head slowly.
One blue eye met his.
There was no retreat.
"That body…"
The voice came low.
"is not yours."
"And still…"
A slight tilt of the head.
"you remain."
"Enough to deceive those who do not know how to look."
Éreon held her gaze.
Without reaction.
"Few can see."
"You are not like the majority."
The figure did not look away.
"You hold yourself as if you had control."
"But you are yielding."
An instant.
"Piece by piece."
"How long do you still intend to sustain this?"
The air did not change.
Éreon remained silent for a moment.
"Long enough."
"To finish what I started."
One step forward.
"And for that to happen…"
"I cannot allow this war to drag on."
His eyes remained on her.
"Isabela."
The tone remained steady.
"Valkyria of the west."
The air seemed to tighten a degree.
"When the southern county marched…"
"it took with it everything that sustained your name."
A slight shift of weight behind him.
Almost imperceptible.
Éreon continued.
"And still…"
"that was not what brought you here."
His eyes did not move.
"It was what you did after."
"After the count opened the path…"
An instant.
"without paying the price."
"You allowed a wanderer to take root on this side."
The air in the cell changed.
Isabela spoke then—
"Who are you?"
Éreon held her gaze.
"I can tell you."
"But there are no answers without cost."
A slight tilt of the head.
"Are you willing to pay for them?"
Her silence came first.
There was no answer.
Éreon stepped closer
"There is a debt that falls to me… and I do not intend to leave it open."
The voice did not rise.
"I will spare no means to close it."
The torches outside flickered.
The air yielded first.
Heavy.
As if something had been released into the space.
Aldric reacted.
His hand already rested on the sword hilt.
His gaze hardened.
Doros felt it the next instant.
His body tensed.
"Noxfang."
The word fell low.
And the space answered.
The creature took shape at the cell's threshold — a living mass of shadows dragging and rising at the same time, black threads twisting as if searching for something to devour.
Eyes opened across its body.
Many.
Cerulean-red.
Fixed.
"What the hell is that?"
The voice came low.
Contained.
"What are you doing?"
Éreon did not look at them.
"What I said I would."
Isabela tried to move.
Her body responded late.
Unresponsive.
Éreon watched her.
One final step.
Stopped before her.
His hand rose—
and touched her face.
"Ngh—!"
The sound escaped without control.
Doros advanced.
One step only—
"Noxfang."
The voice cut before the movement completed.
"If they move… kill them."
The creature did not respond.
But the eyes… turned.
Doros froze.
His jaw tightened.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?!"
Isabela's body gave in.
Without resistance.
Slid against the stone before touching the ground.
Unconscious.
Éreon turned his gaze to him.
"You speak…"
"without even understanding what you carry."
The voice came calm.
"And still… you question."
His eyes did not leave Doros.
"You said not to speak of the abyss…"
"as if it were something to be respected."
The voice did not rise.
But hardened a degree.
"That the temple watches…"
"and that everything that returns from there is marked."
One slow step.
"And still… you do not understand why."
His eyes remained on him.
"The temple does not judge what is there."
A pause.
"It fears what comes back."
The air seemed to hold for an instant.
"Because they return whole."
His eyes did not yield.
"Unlike those awakened by lineage, who inherit power…"
"but do not inherit what sustains it."
The voice remained steady.
"Those who cross…"
"return with more than strength."
The air grew heavy.
"They return with knowledge…"
"of what they were and what they became."
One step.
"Something the temple does not control."
"And for that… it calls it heresy."
Doros frowned.
"And what does that have to do with what is happening here?"
"Everything."
The answer came simple.
Éreon took a slow step.
"That is why we are in this situation."
"Because you do not know."
His eyes remained on him.
"And I do."
The cell seemed smaller.
"I know who you are."
"I know what you carry."
"I know… where to break you."
No change in his voice.
"In many confrontations…"
"it is not power that decides."
His eyes did not yield.
"It is knowledge."
Doros tightened his jaw.
"Stop playing with words."
"If you have something to say… say it."
His eyes narrowed.
"Or admit that you are nothing more than another one of those…"
"who got lost in what they touched."
A faint trace appeared on Éreon's lips.
"Knowledge… has a price."
"And when it comes from the abyss… that price is exacted in full."
He held the gaze.
"Θυμήσου." (remember)
The word did not echo.
It sank.
The shadows reacted.
First on the ground.
Then on the walls.
Doros had no time to retreat.
His body responded…
a moment late.
His gaze changed.
The shadows rose like something alive, crawling over his feet.
Climbing his legs, his torso — too fast to avoid.
"What—"
The voice broke.
They reached his face.
Entered.
Through the mouth.
Through the nose.
Through the ears.
"Agh—!"
The scream came raw.
Doros dropped to his knees.
His body gave as if something had been torn from inside.
Aldric advanced half a step—
Stopped.
Noxfang's eyes… were already on him.
Doros's hands went to the ground—
trying to rise.
Failed.
"What—"
"what is happening?!"
His gaze tried to focus.
Would not hold.
Éreon did not answer immediately.
One step forward.
Slow.
His hand rose—
not to touch.
But as if holding something invisible in the air.
His fingers closed slightly.
The shadows reacted.
The pressure increased.
Doros arched his body.
"Agh—!"
The sound that came out was not a full scream.
It broke in the middle.
Éreon then spoke:
"If you survive the pain…"
A slight movement of the hand.
As if deepening it.
"you will have the truth."
Doros's scream echoed again.
His breathing came irregular.
His eyes flickered — did not change color.
They deepened.
Amber and dark green emerged beneath the light brown, irregular veins forming like ancient roots, moving within the iris without pattern.
It was not static.
It grew.
Adjusted.
As if returning to something that had never ceased to exist.
At the center—
the pupil distorted slightly.
Subtle.
Alive.
Around it, the veins closed into an imperfect spiral.
Ancient.
Organic.
Without symmetry.
And still… natural.
As if it had never appeared.
Only stopped hiding.
Éreon watched for a moment.
As if evaluating.
"Enough."
Low.
Effortless.
Noxfang reacted.
The eyes closed one by one.
The form gave way.
The shadows withdrew as if pulled back into something that was not there.
"What did you do to him?"
Aldric's voice came hard.
Controlled.
Éreon passed through the space where Noxfang had been.
Did not answer.
"First… I will deal with the old baron."
Without turning his face—
"What we do after…"
"will be decided after that."
Aldric's jaw locked.
His hand tightened on the sword hilt.
Did not answer.
Éreon moved on.