The first explosion shook the foundations of Greyhaven.
Dust descended from the ceiling of the underground chamber, and several ancient weapons rattled against their stone supports. Orynth staggered backwards, shielding his face as a wave of heat rushed down the staircase.
Edric stood between him and the entrance, his silver sword raised.
For a moment, the golden line along its blade burned brightly.
Then it dimmed.
"Master?" Orynth called.
"Behind me."
A second explosion followed.
The stone doorway cracked, and a portion of the staircase collapsed. Through the rising dust came the sound of footsteps.
Slow.
Measured.
Unhurried.
Whoever was coming knew exactly where they were going.
Edric tightened his grip around his sword.
"Orynth, listen carefully."
The young man looked at him.
"When I tell you to run, you run."
"Who are they?"
"Men who should have remained dead."
"That isn't an answer."
"It is the only one you need."
A shadow moved at the top of the staircase.
Then a man appeared.He wore dark armour beneath a long cloak, and his face was concealed by a helmet with a narrow opening across the eyes. A faint red light pulsed beneath the metal, almost like embers buried beneath ash.
Two more figures emerged behind him.
Their armour bore no royal insignia.
No kingdom's colours.
Instead, each wore a small black emblem upon the chest: a circle split by a vertical line.
Orynth recognised the shape.
It was almost the opposite of the symbol engraved upon the broken sword.
The leading figure descended two steps.
"Edric."
The old blacksmith said nothing.
"You have grown old."
"And you have remained ugly."
The stranger laughed softly.
"Still the same."
His gaze shifted towards Orynth.
"So this is the boy."
Edric moved slightly, blocking his view.
"Leave him out of this."
"That was never an option."
The stranger descended another step.
"You know why we have come."
"Then you know you will not leave with what you seek."
The stranger tilted his head.
"Twenty years, Edric. Twenty years hiding in a village, pretending to be a blacksmith. Did you truly believe the past would never find you?"
"I believed the past had enough sense to stay buried."
"Unfortunately, the dead have become restless."
He looked towards the broken sword.
"And the boy has begun to remember."
Orynth felt his stomach tighten.
"What does he mean?"
Edric did not answer.
The stranger raised his hand.
A strange darkness gathered around his fingers.
It was not ordinary shadow. It seemed to absorb the golden light coming from Edric's sword, twisting it into something cold and unnatural.
Orynth stepped backwards.He had heard stories about magic.
Every child in Aetherion had.
Some spoke of travelling sorcerers who could summon flames from their palms. Others told tales of healers who could close wounds with a whispered prayer. In the northern kingdoms, warriors supposedly strengthened their bodies with ancient blood rites.
But stories were one thing.
Watching darkness gather around a man's hand was another.
The stranger smiled.
"Still teaching the boy nothing, I see."
Edric's expression hardened.
"He has no need of your knowledge."
"Every child has a need for knowledge. Particularly when his blood carries something ancient."
The stranger's hand moved.The darkness surged forward.
Edric met it with his blade.
A burst of golden light filled the chamber.
The collision sent both men staggering backwards.
Orynth covered his eyes.
When he looked again, Edric was standing with his sword raised, while the stranger's dark magic curled around the walls like smoke.
"Umbramancy," Edric muttered.
The stranger laughed.
"Your memory serves you well."
Orynth looked at him.
"Umbramancy?"
Edric did not take his eyes off the enemy.
"Shadow magic. It can conceal, distort and deceive. In the hands of a skilled practitioner, it can make a man see things that do not exist."
"Can it hurt someone?"
"Any magic can hurt someone."
The stranger raised both hands.
Darkness gathered around the staircase.
Then the chamber changed.
For a moment, Orynth saw dozens of armed men standing between the pillars.
Their faces were hidden.
Their weapons were raised.
He instinctively reached for one of the swords hanging on the wall.
"Don't!" Edric shouted.
The figures rushed forward.
Orynth swung at the nearest one.
His blade passed through empty air.
The figure disappeared.
"Illusions!" Edric shouted. "Do not trust your eyes!"The young man stumbled backwards.
The chamber was filled with enemies, yet none of them seemed to possess weight or substance.
He remembered Edric's words.
Shadow magic could distort what a person saw.
But how was he supposed to distinguish reality from deception?
He closed his eyes.
A mistake.
Something struck his shoulder.
He cried out and fell against the stone table.
Pain spread down his arm.
"Eyes open!" Edric shouted.
Orynth struggled upright.
The illusions continued to move around him.
Then he noticed something.The golden line on the broken sword was glowing.
Not brightly.
Not like a flame.
It was a faint, steady light that seemed to pulse in time with his heartbeat.
He stared at it.
The illusions nearest the table appeared slightly distorted.
Their edges flickered.
One of them moved towards him.
Unlike the others, it cast a shadow upon the floor.
Orynth realised that it was real.
He seized a fallen dagger and threw it.
The weapon struck the figure's shoulder.
The man stumbled.
The illusion vanished.Edric glanced towards him.
"Good!"
The old blacksmith drove his sword forward, forcing the leading stranger towards the staircase.
For the first time, the stranger's composure faltered.
"Interesting," he said.
His gaze returned to Orynth.
"The boy can perceive the difference."
Edric stepped between them.
"Enough."
The stranger raised his hand again.
This time, the darkness gathered around his entire body.
The air became cold.
The flames from the nearby lamps began to shrink.Orynth felt something pressing against his chest, as though the room itself were trying to force the breath from his lungs.
Edric's sword began to glow.
"Get away from the table!"
Orynth turned.
The broken sword was shining now.
A thin golden light ran along its shattered blade.
He reached towards it.
"NO!"
Edric's voice echoed through the chamber.
But Orynth had already touched the hilt.
The world disappeared.
For a heartbeat, he was no longer beneath the forge.
He stood in the middle of a vast fortress surrounded by golden walls.Hundreds of knights stood in formation.
Their armour shone beneath a brilliant sun, and their banners carried the symbol of seven rays.
A man stood upon a raised platform.
He wore white and gold armour, and a long cloak rested upon his shoulders.
Orynth could not see his face clearly.
But he felt something familiar.
A presence.
A connection.
The man turned towards him.
Then the vision changed.
The fortress was burning.
The golden banners had fallen.
Knights lay scattered across the courtyard.
Above them, the sky had turned black.Seven figures stood around a throne, each holding a fragment of brilliant light.
One by one, the lights began to disappear.
A voice spoke.
Not from the sky.
Not from the fortress.
From somewhere deep within the sword.
The oath was broken.
Orynth tried to move.
He could not.
The light was betrayed.
The seven figures vanished.
Then he heard another voice.
A man's voice.
Familiar, yet distant.
When the final heir remembers, the dawn shall return.
The vision shattered.
Orynth returned to the chamber.
He was on his knees, still holding the broken sword.
Golden light streamed from his fingers.
The entire chamber trembled.
The stranger recoiled.
For the first time, fear appeared in his eyes.
"Impossible."
Edric stared at Orynth.
The old blacksmith seemed unable to speak.
The golden light expanded.