The clang of steel echoed across the main training yard of Fort Drakan, sharp against the background howl of the northern wind. Rain slicked the churned mud, making footing treacherous. Captain Elias Crane parried another heavy blow from Commander Valerius' greatsword, the impact jarring his shield arm. They were sparring, a brutal but necessary form of training Valerius occasionally inflicted upon his warriors. Elias held his own. His hand, once severed but now seamlessly bonded by Mage Elms's heal magic five years prior, gripped his shield firmly. But his true advantage was the magical eye orb embedded in the socket of the eye he'd lost on his very first day. After three years of difficult adaptation, the constant flicker of potential futures it showed was no longer a confusing hindrance but a tactical tool he wielded with deadly efficiency, allowing him to anticipate attacks microseconds before they launched. Suddenly, Valerius lowered his blade mid-swing, annoyance flashing across his scarred face as he looked past Elias towards the yard's edge.
Elias followed his gaze. An unfamiliar figure stood hesitantly there – a messenger bearing the crisp livery of the "Noble House of Caelum Primus", looking distinctly uncomfortable amidst the fort's rough-and-ready soldiers. The Commander kept his greatsword lowered but didn't sheath it, breathing deeply from the exertion of the spar as he waited impatiently for the messenger to hurry across the muddy yard towards him.
Elias remained where he was, catching his breath, observing the interaction from a distance. The messenger bowed stiffly and presented a sealed parchment bearing Minister Kenjiro's sigil to the Commander. Valerius took it, broke the seal with a thick thumb, and quickly scanned the contents, his expression darkening rapidly. He went utterly still for a moment, reading, then let out a harsh, incredulous breath that fogged in the cold air. "An escort?" he growled, the sound low and dangerous, directed more at the parchment than the messenger. His knuckles whitened where he gripped the letter. "Kenjiro wants veteran soldiers..?!" He paced a single, furious step, shaking his head slightly in disbelief. "To babysit some analyst?! All the way down near... Oakhaven Village?!" He looked up, his eyes blazing, but his voice remained tight, controlled fury. "And for what? Chasing some damned rogue mage while my men hold this line with their teeth?!" He crumpled the parchment slightly in his fist, speaking through gritted teeth now, loud enough for Elias to hear clearly. "Does the capital think we are playing here?! Preposterous!" After spitting out a curt dismissal to the visibly shrinking messenger, Commander Valerius turned abruptly and stormed back towards his longhouse, the offending letter still clutched in his gauntleted fist.
Oakhaven.
The name lingered in the air like smoke, curling its way through the fog of Elias mind.
It struck something deep. Familiar. Too familiar. At first, he couldn't place it. Just a name. A village. One of many. But then, like embers reigniting in a long-dead fire, it flared. The notes. The scribbled pages he had once poured over — before the days had blurred, and the truth of his world had dulled.
The Chosen Light.
Year 742
The first raid. — a week from now.
That was it. That was where it all began.
The beginning of the story.
His breath caught. His heart thudded, slow and heavy, as if his body remembered before his mind fully did.
The girl Aelric saved.The blue sky painted in flame.The duel — Aelric vs. Kaelmor Vire — blades clashing, spells roaring, two titans marking the world with their names.
He had forgotten.
Gods, he had let it all slip — this world, this book, had wrapped around him like a second skin. He had stopped looking for cracks in the illusion. He had started to live it. Accept it.
But now — Oakhaven had torn it all open.
He could see it — not the ink on the page, but the moment itself, real and raw: villagers screaming, the scent of smoke in the air, Kaelmor's cruel smile, and Aelric, golden and untouchable, cutting through chaos like fate incarnate.
Elias's fists clenched.
He remembered what came next. The praise. The legend. The Hero.
Aelric had saved the girl. Saved the village but cost of many villagers' death. Won the hearts of the people. Started the myth.
A fierce, almost forgotten desire surged within him – the desire to be there, to witness it, to do it better.
He must go.
No matter what the cost. No matter what stood in the way.
Later that evening, after the evening meal and duty roster checks were complete, Elias made his way to the Commander's longhouse. The rain had lessened to a drizzle, and the fort was quieter, lit by flickering torches. He knocked respectfully on the heavy wooden door.
"Enter," came Valerius's gruff voice.
Elias stepped inside. The Commander sat at his sturdy table, maps spread out under the lamplight, a half-empty mug of ale beside him. He looked up, his expression wary. "Crane. What is it?"
"Commander," Elias began politely, standing straight but not overly formal. "Regarding the Minister's request delivered by the messenger earlier today."
Valerius snorted, leaning back in his chair. "Absurd. Sending good soldiers south to hold some clerk's hand while we bleed up here. I intend to send second-spear Renjiro with a few troopers – more than sufficient for bodyguard duty."
"Sir, I humbly request the honor of commanding that escort detail." Elias stated calmly but firmly.
The Commander stared at him, disbelief warring with irritation. "You? Captain Crane? You want to lead a glorified bodyguard mission to the back end of nowhere? Have you taken leave of your senses? Your are needed here."
"The mission involves tracking a rogue mage, sir," Elias countered, keeping his voice level. "Unconventional threats. My experience..."
"Renjiro can handle a rogue mage if it comes to that," Valerius interrupted dismissively. "It's beneath your station, Crane. A waste of your talents."
Elias hesitated for a fraction of a second. He needed a convincing reason. He subtly touched the leather patch covering his left eye socket. "Sir," he began, choosing his words carefully, "the eye... it occasionally gave... stronger signals. Resonances." He focused on the mission objective mentioned in the letter. "When I overheard the location mentioned earlier... Oakhaven... and the reference to the rogue mage... the eye reacted strongly. A confluence of danger signals focused on that specific region." He wasn't entirely lying; the eye did sometimes give him intense flashes related to magic or immediate threats, though interpreting them was still complex.
Valerius narrowed his eyes, unconvinced but aware of the relic's strangeness. "Your magic eye is twitching again? Crane, that thing is half-understood at best. I won't pull a Captain off the line based on a vague 'feeling' from a piece of ruin junk. We have real threats here."
Elias shifted his argument, appealing to the Commander's strategic concerns. "Commander, consider the potential consequences if the intelligence is accurate. A powerful, uncontrolled rogue mage operating in the southern territories... that region borders the Whisperwood and has seen unrest before. If she destabilizes that area, it could draw resources away from the capital, potentially even requiring reinforcements from this frontier later, weakening us when we can least afford it. Sending an experienced officer now to assess and contain the threat quickly might prevent a larger drain on resources down the line. It's proactive containment."
The Commander was silent for a long moment, swirling the ale in his mug, considering the strategic angle. Elias had framed it not as a bodyguard mission, but as a preventative measure relevant to the overall security of the kingdom, potentially impacting the Northern Frontier indirectly.
"Damn your logic, Crane," Valerius finally growled, still clearly unhappy but seeing the strategic point. "Fine. You can go. But don't think you're taking my elite guard on this potential wild goose chase." He jabbed a finger towards Elias. "You get five men, and I choose them. Two standard troopers for basic duty. For the rest... take Kenzo – solid shield man, follows orders. Take Ishikawa – decent marksman. And take Sato – passable warrior, needs seasoning." He waved a dismissive hand. That's it. No specialists, and absolutely no mages – the few we have are on loan from the Mage Council and assigned to critical defense here. You make do with that standard infantry squad. Meeting with this 'Kaito Ren' analyst at the coordinates specified. Assess the situation. Deal with any real threat. But if this turns out to be nothing more than chasing shadows while my border burns, you'll answer for it. Understood?"
"Understood, Commander," Elias said with a curt nod, accepting the limitations. A less experienced squad, no magic support beyond his own strange eye and sword.
Next early morning, Captain Elias Crane rode south, the harsh, windswept landscape of the Northern Frontier gradually giving way to greener, more temperate lands. The constant tension of the border forts eased slightly with every league traveled, replaced by the steady rhythm of horses' hooves on the road. Behind him rode the five soldiers assigned by the Commander – a mixed group, their faces unfamiliar compared to his usual company, their skill levels varied. They were quiet, following his lead as ordered.
* * *
They were heading towards the rendezvous point specified in the analyst's request, a crossroads a day's ride from Oakhaven village itself. As they made camp on the third night, Elias gathered the small squad around the crackling fire.
"Change of plans," he stated bluntly, his voice cutting through the quiet evening air. "We're bypassing the rendezvous point. We ride directly for Oakhaven village at first light."
Kenzo, the shield man and seemingly the most senior of the group after Elias, frowned. "Sir? Our orders are to meet the analyst at the crossroads."
"Our orders are to assess and deal with threats in the region," Elias corrected, his gaze hard. "My assessment," he tapped the patch over his magical eye, "indicates the primary threat, an intense convergence of danger, is centered on Oakhaven itself. It will manifest within the week."
Ishikawa, the marksman, shifted uncomfortably. "Oakhaven, Captain? It's just a quiet logging village. Never seen trouble beyond a few stray wolves." Sato and the troopers exchanged confused glances.
"This time will be different," Elias said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Expect heavy resistance. Possibly unconventional forces. We are going in not as an escort, but as a spearhead. We will secure the village and defend it with everything we have."
"Defend it from what, sir?" Kenzo asked, clearly bewildered by the sudden shift from a bodyguard mission to a defensive siege footing for a peaceful village.
"From the storm that's coming," Elias replied cryptically. "Prepare yourselves. Check your gear, sharpen your steel. We protect that village, or we die trying." He turned away from their confused and troubled faces, staring into the fire. Damn babysitting some analyst. Damn chasing a rogue mage. Oakhaven. The raid. The hero's arrival. That was the priority now. That was the battle he had waited five years to influence. He wouldn't miss it.