Betrayals of flame

Arren trudged through the dense snow of the Hezran Mountains, his sword strapped securely to his back and a bow slung over his shoulder. The chill bit at his exposed face, but the years spent training in these unforgiving peaks had hardened him against the cold. He was hunting a boar—a task to replenish the supplies back at the barracks. Yet, his mind was far from the task at hand.

His thoughts drifted to Sir Thalric. The man was more than a knight; he was one of the Eight High Commanders of the Imperial Vanguard, a title that carried immense authority and reverence. To stand at Thalric's side was an honor most knights could only dream of. Yet, Arren couldn't shake the nagging doubt in his mind.

Why me?

He clenched his fists, his breath visible in the frigid air. I was just a frail boy huddled in an alley. What did he see in me?

Arren's doubts deepened as he recalled the day he struck his sword against the mountaintop and the sky answered with lightning. He had seen something then—a flicker of fear in Thalric's usually steely gaze. The seasoned knight had always been composed, a paragon of strength and wisdom. But in that moment, he had looked… uncertain.

Thalric's words echoed in his mind.

"When you first used fire, I thought you were gifted. Elemental power is rare, but one element is not unheard of among the knights. But when I saw you command lightning... Arren, this is not normal. Knights have one affinity, one bond with the elements. You… you are different."

Thalric had suggested returning to the mountains, far from the curious eyes of the barracks, to refine Arren's abilities. At the time, Arren had agreed without question. Now, he wondered if Thalric's intentions were entirely selfless.

What am I? he thought, his gray eyes scanning the snowy expanse. Why am I different from the others?

A Sudden Presence

Lost in his thoughts, Arren froze mid-step. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and a chill that had nothing to do with the cold ran down his spine. He tightened his grip on his bow.

"I know you're there," he said calmly, his voice carrying through the quiet mountains. He hadn't seen anyone, but his senses, honed by years of training, told him he wasn't alone. "Why are you watching me?"

For a moment, there was silence. Then, as if emerging from the shadows themselves, a figure appeared to his right.

The woman was striking, her presence commanding yet ethereal. Her long, bouncy auburn hair cascaded down to her waist, catching the faint light of the sun. She wore a foreign dress of deep emerald and gold, its intricate patterns hinting at a culture far removed from Carthain. But it was her eyes that held him—their vivid violet hue seemed almost unnatural, glinting like amethysts against the snow.

Arren's grip on his bow loosened slightly, though his guard remained up. "Who are you?" he asked, his voice steady.

The woman studied him for a moment before answering. "I am Lyara, a knight of Eldralis, a kingdom beyond these mountains." Her voice was melodic yet firm, each word carrying a quiet authority.

Arren frowned. He had heard of Eldralis in passing, a neighboring kingdom known for its skilled mages and ancient forests. It was said to be a place of wonder and mystery, far removed from the cold pragmatism of Carthain.

"What are you doing here, so far from your kingdom?" he asked.

Lyara glanced around the snow-covered expanse before meeting his gaze again. "Dark forces have been stirring near the border of Eldralis," she said. "Our scouts reported strange activity in the mountains, and I was sent to investigate. When I sensed your presence, I thought perhaps you were one of them."

"One of them?" Arren's brow furrowed.

Lyara nodded, her expression grave. "The forces I speak of are not ordinary bandits or rebels. They are cloaked in shadow, wielding magic unlike anything my kingdom has seen before. They have begun to spread their influence, and we fear they may reach even these lands."

Arren hesitated, unsure of what to say. He had no knowledge of shadowy forces or strange magic, and the idea of such threats felt far removed from his quiet life of training and duty.

"What about you?" Lyara asked suddenly, her violet eyes narrowing. "I sense something unusual about you. The air around you... it crackles with power."

Arren tensed. He had learned to be cautious about revealing his abilities, but something about Lyara's piercing gaze made it hard to deflect her question. "I've been… training," he said carefully. "I have an affinity for the elements."

Lyara raised an eyebrow. "Affinity? No, this is more than that. Most knights, even in Eldralis, can only bond with one element. But you… I sense fire, lightning, and something else. Something dormant."

Arren's chest tightened. How could she know?

"You're different," she said, her tone softer now. "And that difference may be the key to fighting what's coming. But it also makes you a target. Be careful, Arren of Carthain. The shadows are watching, even here in the mountains."

Before he could respond, Lyara turned, her auburn hair flowing like silk in the wind. "We may meet again," she said, her voice fading as she disappeared into the trees.

Arren stood there, her words echoing in his mind. The shadows are watching.

He tightened his grip on his sword and continued his hunt, though his mind was far from the task. The mountains, once a place of solitude and training, now felt charged with mystery. And for the first time, Arren wondered if the answers he sought about himself would lead him to even darker questions.