The sun was dipping into the horizon when the Vaelthorne carriage, cloaked in enchantments, began its descent down the forested path that led home. The mood inside was solemn—Seraphine's arms cradled Caelum close as if her warmth could shield him from the cold truth they had just unearthed: that Marlik, the looming threat, had once been a soul-wounded boy who turned to darkness after losing everything.
Alaric sat across from them, brooding and tense, eyes constantly scanning the forest through the open slit of the carriage. His instincts burned in his veins—something wasn't right.
Then it happened.
Without warning, shadows burst from the trees like wolves unleashed—hooded figures cloaked in crimson light, riding creatures borne of twisted bone and fire. The carriage jolted. The air crackled with dark magic.
"AMBUSH!" Alaric's voice roared like thunder as he kicked open the carriage door, eyes gleaming crimson.
Caelum barely had time to react before Seraphine wrapped him in a protective spell. "Stay with me," she whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead, her heart drumming with maternal terror.
Alaric was already mid-air, his hand transforming into a blade forged from his own blood. In seconds, three of the attackers turned to ash under his wrath. More surged forward, chanting incantations in a forgotten tongue. The earth trembled as dark glyphs rose from beneath the soil—binding spells aimed not to kill, but to delay.
"Cowards," Alaric hissed, dodging a wave of cursed energy. "They're not after victory—they're stalling me!"
Behind him, a silver orb suddenly engulfed the carriage—an extraction spell!
Seraphine screamed, clutching Caelum tighter as the magic tried to drag him out of her arms. "NO!"
Alaric vanished and reappeared in a flash of red lightning, slashing through the spell matrix with a cry that split the sky. The orb shattered like glass, raining harmless shards into the forest.
The attackers froze. Their mission had failed—but they didn't retreat.
One of them, barely clinging to life, looked up at Alaric with a bloodied grin. "He knows now… He has seen your rage… He has tasted your strength…"
Alaric narrowed his eyes, fangs bared. "This was a trap. A test."
The figure coughed. "A measurement, my Lord Vaelthorne… and Marlik is pleased."
Before Alaric could extract more, the assassin chanted a final word—and his body disintegrated into black dust, vanishing with the wind.
---
Back in the carriage, Caelum trembled in Seraphine's arms, not from fear—but fury. "He's toying with us," he whispered. "He wants Father's power... he wants mine."
Alaric re-entered, his clothes dusted in ash, his expression like stone. He knelt before them, placing his hand over Caelum's heart. "Not again," he vowed. "He will not lay a finger on you."
Seraphine's eyes shimmered with a mix of love and dread. "He's watching. Always watching."
Alaric looked toward the sky, where the clouds churned unnaturally, like an eye blinking shut. "Let him watch," he said coldly. "He just made a mistake."
The carriage moved again, rolling toward Ravenshade—but peace would not greet them at the gates. War had already begun… in shadows.
The gates of Ravenshade creaked open with an eerie silence, the kind that only foreshadowed the beginning of a storm. Carlos stood at the threshold, arms folded, his usually calm demeanor breaking into concern at the sight of the weary trio.
"Welcome home," he said, but his eyes were on Seraphine and Caelum, both visibly shaken. "What happened?"
Alaric didn't respond immediately. He helped Seraphine down from the carriage, his hands gentle but tense, his eyes dark as stormclouds. "Take them inside. Ensure they're guarded," he ordered the guards in a low voice, then turned to Carlos. "With me. War chamber. Now."
Carlos's heart dropped. He nodded, following Alaric through the winding corridors of Ravenshade, the ancient walls whispering secrets in their wake. Alaric's pace was quick, but there was something off—his hands were trembling.
Inside the war chamber, the heavy doors slammed shut with a thud that echoed like a thunderclap.
Alaric didn't sit.
He stood before the table where countless battle maps and relics from past wars were etched with dust. He gripped the edge, veins rising on his arms, eyes burning with a rage held too long.
"We were ambushed," Alaric began, voice cold, sharp as a blade. "On the way back from Vaelthorne old manor. They went for Caelum."
Carlos's eyes narrowed. "What?"
"They cloaked the ambush as a kidnapping attempt," Alaric continued, his voice deepening. "But it was never about taking him. It was a test."
Carlos stepped forward. "A test?"
Alaric looked up. "It was Marlik. He orchestrated the attack to measure my power."
Carlos stared at him, stunned. "You're telling me... he's calculating? Watching?"
Alaric nodded grimly. "Through dark seer magic. He knew where we were. When to strike. And he made sure I'd retaliate so he could assess me." His voice cracked with fury. "He used my son as bait."
For a heartbeat, silence blanketed the chamber—then Carlos's fist slammed into the war table, knocking a set of enchanted daggers to the ground.
"Those cursed cowards!" he growled, pacing. "Using a child for a tactical evaluation—how low has that filth sunk?!"
Alaric clenched his fists, jaw tight. "He's planning something bigger. He's watching us... from a distance... and preparing to strike when we're weakest."
Carlos turned to him, his anger replaced by grim resolve. "Then we won't give him the chance."
Alaric's eyes flicked to the map on the table, fingers brushing over the southern edge of the territory. "We need to secure Ravenshade. Set up anti-seer wards. If he's watching, we cut off his eyes."
Carlos nodded. "I'll summon the wardens. Reinforce every inch. We'll turn Ravenshade into a fortress."
Alaric exhaled shakily and looked at Carlos with quiet intensity. "He's not just after me anymore, Carlos. He's after Caelum."
Carlos's expression turned dark. "Then we fight not just as lords… but as uncles and fathers."
Alaric placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Thank you… for always standing by us."
Carlos smirked, fire in his eyes. "Let him come. I'll carve his name into my blade."
Together, they turned toward the towering stained-glass window that overlooked the valley. Lightning streaked across the sky as if in answer. The winds of war were rising—and in the shadows, Marlik was watching.
But this time, Ravenshade would be ready.