Rafael stepped back from the gathered crowd, his voice carrying through the square. "If you want the chief," he said calmly, "you'll find him in his house. Hiding like a rabbit behind walls and guards. While you break your backs to survive, he enjoys the fruits of your labour."
Murmurs turned to shouts.
"Go home," Rafael continued. "Arm yourselves with whatever you have. Pitchforks. Shovels. Blades. Torches. Meet me near the chief's house." His eyes hardened. "Tonight, we lead the tyrant out of this village."
The square erupted. Anger poured into the streets as villagers scattered, doors slamming open and shut. The sound of metal being drawn, wood being torn loose, and flames being lit echoed through the night.
Soon, only Rafael and Leif remained. Rafael turned to him. "Lie down." Leif frowned. "What?" "Trust me." After a moment's hesitation, Leif lowered himself onto the cold stone street. Rafael knelt beside him, gripping the ring on his finger. He closed his eyes.
"Don't fail me now," he whispered. "Shadow."
He pictured it clearly—darkness flowing like liquid silk, wrapping around broken flesh and shattered bone. He imagined bruises fading, pain dissolving, skin knitting together. The shadows responded.
They rose from beneath Leif, curling gently around his body. Leif gasped as warmth spread through him, replacing agony with relief. Bruises vanished. Swelling retreated. Bones realigned with soft, unsettling precision.
When the shadows receded, Rafael opened his eyes. Leif sat up slowly. He stared at his hands. Then his arms. Then his chest. "…How?" he whispered. "How the hell did you do that?" Rafael smirked faintly. "That's a secret." He raised a finger to his lips. "Let's keep it that way."
Leif stood, testing his weight, disbelief written across his face. Then panic returned to his eyes. "My sister," he said urgently. "I need to find her. Who knows what my father—" He stopped himself. "…what the chief has done to her." "She's safe," Rafael said. Leif looked at him sharply. "How do you know?"
Rafael turned away. "Who do you think told me where to find you?" Hope flickered in Leif's eyes. "If you want to see her," Rafael added, "go to the church. Tell them I sent you." Leif nodded, already turning. "And you?" Rafael's gaze drifted toward the chief's estate, looming dark against the night. "I'm going to find your father."
Leif hesitated, then ran.
Torches bloomed across the village like angry stars. Men and women poured into the streets—some gripping pitchforks and shovels, others wielding machetes, axes, and rusted swords. Flames crackled as they marched, rage guiding their steps. They marched towards the chief's house.
Rafael was already there. He stood alone at the gate. No shadows hiding him now. Guards moved to intercept him, hands tightening on their weapons. "Leave," one barked. "This is private property." Rafael lifted his head.
The hood of his cloak cast his face in darkness—but his eyes shone through. Blue. Radiant. Almost glowing in the night.
The guards faltered. Something about him made the air feel heavy, wrong. Like the world itself was holding its breath. Rafael took one step forward. And the night seemed to lean closer.
Rafael took a step forward, stopping just beyond the reach of the guards' spears. His cloak stirred in the night wind.
"You stand here believing you are doing your duty," he said, his voice calm but heavy. "Believing you protect this village." His glowing blue eyes swept over them. "But tell me—who are you truly protecting?" The guards shifted uneasily.
"You guard a man who starves his people while bathing in wine and gold. A man who beats his own son until bones crack. A man who sold his own daughter for coin and silence."Rafael's voice hardened. "If that is justice, then this village has been rotting for years."
He raised a hand, shadows curling faintly around his fingers. "The chief has poisoned this place with greed. Every coin he stole went to line his pockets, to feed his excess, while children slept hungry and men bled in fields they will never own."
Rafael stepped closer. "I have not come to rule this village. I have come to cleanse it." Silence pressed down on the guards. "So I ask you," Rafael said quietly, "will you keep defying me and die for a tyrant who would abandon you the moment it benefits him… or will you stand with me and help make this village something worth protecting?"
His gaze sharpened, voice dropping to a warning. "Choose carefully. If you oppose me, your suffering will be by your own will."
At that moment, the sound came. Footsteps. Hundreds of them. Torches flared behind Rafael, lighting the night in orange and gold. The villagers emerged from the darkness in waves—men and women armed with pitchforks, blades, clubs, and fire. They filled the street like an army answering a call.
The guards froze. Fear replaced resolve. One of them broke. He turned and ran inside the estate. Inside the Chief's House, the chief laughed softly, reclining with a goblet of wine in hand. A young woman sat beside him—far too young to be his wife.
The door burst open. "My lord!" the guard gasped. "There's—there's an army outside. They're here to kill you!" The colour drained from the chief's face. He shoved the woman away, spilling wine across the floor. His hands trembled as he threw on a robe and stumbled toward the door.
When he stepped outside— He saw Rafael. He saw the villagers. And he gasped.
At the Church, Leif arrived breathless and pounded on the door. It opened just enough for a blade to press against his chest. "What do you want?" Draven growled. "I'm looking for Sophia," Leif said urgently. "Rafael sent me."
Malrek leaned close to Draven and whispered, "Only Rafael knew about her. I think he's legit." Draven lowered the weapon slightly. "Basement. Try anything funny, and I'll kill you."
Leif didn't hesitate. He rushed down the stairs. There, in the dim light, he found Sophia and Vivian sitting together, books open, trying to pretend the world wasn't burning above them. Sophia looked up. "Leif?" She screamed his name and ran to him, throwing her arms around him.
"I thought I'd never see you again," she sobbed. "I'll always be here for you," Leif said, holding her tight. She pulled back, staring at him. "But how—how did you escape?" "A boy named Rafael," Leif said. "He freed me. He healed me." Sophia's eyes filled with tears again. "Then… we owe that boy our lives." Leif nodded softly. "Yeah. I guess we do."
Outside, the chief raised his hands, trying to speak. "My people—listen—" "There he is," Rafael cut in, his voice carrying. "Your tyrant." The villagers roared. They surged forward. Guards rushed to form a wall around the chief.
Rafael laughed quietly. "Look at him. Still hiding like a rabbit."
"Get me that boy!" the chief screamed. The guards charged. Rafael moved. He dodged the first strike, kicked one guard flying, and punched another into the dirt. He didn't slow. He sprinted toward the remaining guards, stepped on one man's knee, and launched himself into the air. Wind gathered in his palms. He landed behind them and unleashed it.
A violent shockwave blasted outward, scattering the guards like leaves. Rafael grabbed the chief and slammed him into the wall. The man coughed, spitting blood. The fight exploded around them—villagers clashing with guards, steel ringing, torches falling, bodies hitting the ground.
Through the chaos, Rafael dragged the chief forward and struck him again.
"And you call yourself a father?" Rafael snarled. "How could you do that to your own children?" Another punch. "You deserve to die." The chief collapsed.
Outnumbered and broken, the guards fell. The villagers stripped the chief of his finery, beating him as he screamed, and dragged him to the town square. They tied him to a platform, helpless and exposed.
He cried in agony. "I did it all for the good of the village!" No one listened. Sophia, Vivian, Leif, Malrek, and Draven emerged into the square, joining the crowd.
The villagers parted as Rafael walked forward. He stopped before the chief. The night went silent. Rafael stared down at him—eyes cold, unblinking.
And the entire village waited for his next move.