The sun dipped gently behind the hills as Lightborn and his companions—Kael,and Aylin—walked away from the smoldering remnants of the tribal battlefield. The village they had left behind no longer felt like home to any of them. Their boots kicked up dust as they followed the narrow path toward the nearest known settlement, a place called Valemire.
Kael walked with arms folded, the silence stretching long between them. Aylin broke it at last, peering at Lightborn's calm expression.
"Why is your name 'Lightborn'? It sounds like something out of an old fable," she asked playfully.
Lightborn glanced her way, shrugging with a faint smirk. "People started calling me that. Maybe because of this eye… maybe because I was born in a place long forgotten by light. But if you don't like it, you can call me whatever you want."
She raised an eyebrow. "I'll stick with Lightborn. It suits your mysterious drama."
As they walked, Mira asked, "Why did you check that scroll back in the ruins? Nothing was written on it."
"I saw something none of you could," he replied, and as he spoke, the iris of his right eye lit with a silvery glow. A projection of a map hovered for a brief second over his palm before vanishing.
They all stopped.
"A map?" Aylin said. "Of what?"
"I don't know yet… but I think it's leading me somewhere."
The forest thickened ahead, dark branches clawing over the trail. The trees whispered legends of the Darkborne, shadowy people rumored to reside within. Then suddenly, an old man lay across their path. His robes shimmered faintly.
"The time will come… and you will know," the old man rasped to Lightborn. "Be prepared."
And before anyone could react, he vanished like mist.
But before they could move further — SNAP!
A massive cage trap fell on them. Wooden spikes. Chains.
They were surrounded by tribal warriors, painted in ash and wearing bones.
> "Take them to King Barak!" one of the warriors shouted.
They were dragged deeper into the forest — to a camp of shadows, where torches burned green and drums echoed in the air.
The tribal king, Barak, was huge — half human, half beast. His horns curved backward, and his eyes were red as blood.
> "Kill them all," he growled.
Just as the warriors raised their blades, Lightborn's Eternal Eye flashed.
With a single pulse, his chains snapped.
In a blur of motion, he drew his sword.
Flames danced across the blade like a living thing.
> SLASH! SLASH!
Enemies fell one by one, scorched by a divine flame. Only the king stood now.
Barak roared and charged. Their swords clashed — sparks flew. It was a fierce fight.
But when Barak raised his axe for a final blow, Lightborn's Veilborne power awakened.
His sword ignited, brighter than ever before. One final burning strike — and the tribal king fell to his knees.
> "What... are you…?" Barak gasped.
Lightborn stood over him, calm and silent. Then, a strange presence arrived — Death itself — a figure in the shape of shadows, watching from behind.
> "Do you want peace in your heart?" Lightborn asked the dying king.
Barak nodded.
A glowing chain of fire emerged from Lightborn's hand, binding Barak's neck and arms. His body turned to flame, then shadow — kneeling before Lightborn like a soldier reborn.
The rest of the near-dead warriors followed.
They all kneeled.
They all burned into Veilborne servants, their flames fusing into Lightborn's back.
> "What... just happened?" Aylin whispered, eyes wide.
"I… didn't even know I could do that," Lightborn admitted.
But something new happened. For the first time, Lightborn killed. He stood quietly over the fallen warriors, his eyes shadowed. "They were alive… and now they're not. By my hand."
Kael placed a hand on his shoulder. "You had to. We had no choice."
Suddenly, a shadowy veil emerged from the fallen king and warriors, wrapping them in black chains. They knelt. Their bodies shimmered like flickering fire, and one by one, they vanished—absorbed into Lightborn's body.
A strange voice echoed behind him. An angel, visible only to Lightborn, stood with wings of fractured glass.
"This is a gift from your Lord," the angel said. "You now carry the power of Veilborne—a realm where your fallen enemies live in eternal service. They retain conscience… but follow your command. Some are bound by force… others, by contract."
He vanished.
Lightborn's hand trembled.
---
Later at Valemire
They reached Valemire, a green, bustling village of farmers, smiths, and merchants. A gatekeeper stopped them. "State your names. Rank, if you have one."
Kael presented their token.
The guard's eyes widened. "Marshal Rank… My apologies, sir."
He saluted and let them through.
Within, the village brimmed with life. Women in bright dresses flirted with Lightborn. One even tugged at his cloak.
"You're handsome. What's your name?"
He looked away, haunted.
Kael smirked. "He's too busy brooding to notice you."
They stopped at a tavern a Food stall. The owner asked for coin. Kael had some, but not enough for everyone. They needed work.
The tavernkeeper pointed to a stone building. "The Hunter's Den. All warriors register there. Bounties, missions, trials."
Inside, the room buzzed with mercenaries and adventurers. A board listed quests. One caught Lightborn's eye:
Mission: The Hollow Howl
Creatures have been attacking the valley farm. Slay them. Reward: 15 silver crowns.
The group accepted and left the village gates. Farmers watched hopefully from their fences.
In the fields, the monsters attacked—a pack of twisted wolves with bone masks. Mira shot arrows, Aylin cast flame, Kael held the line.
Lightborn moved like lightning, his sword glowing. One wolf lunged at him—he parried, then drove his blade deep.
Then, his eye shimmered again. From the wolf's dying body, a flicker of shadow rose—and a contract was formed. The wolf bowed.
"I choose to serve," it said. "In your realm."
The Veilborne Realm opened for a moment. Peaceful. Lush. Warriors walked freely within.
Back at the tavern, they feasted. Lightborn remained silent, watching the sky.
The angel returned in vision only he could see.
"This is only the beginning."
End of Chapter 3