The Lost Vanguard

The cold wind swept through the battered house, carrying with it the acrid scent of blood and smoke. My grip on my sword tightened as I turned back to the others. Myrial stood near the hearth, her hands glowing faintly as she stabilized a wounded villager. Kaldar leaned against the wall, his expression as grim as his earlier words.

"They're controlled," Kaldar said, breaking the silence. His gaze swept over the room, lingering on each of us. "And whoever's behind this is close."

Myrial finished tending to the villager, her glowing hands dimming as she stepped away. She turned to me, her silver eyes narrowing slightly. "You're hurt," she said, her voice calm but firm. "Sit down."

I hesitated, glancing at Kaldar. He gave me a slight nod, his expression unreadable. Reluctantly, I lowered myself onto a nearby stool, the ache in my side flaring as I moved. Myrial knelt beside me, her hands already beginning to glow again.

"This might sting," she warned. Before I could respond, her hands hovered over the torn fabric of my shirt, and I felt a sudden warmth spread through my side. It wasn't unpleasant, but it wasn't exactly comfortable, either. The warmth grew stronger, sinking beneath my skin and into the wound itself.

I sucked in a sharp breath as the pain intensified briefly, then began to ebb. Myrial's expression was focused, her lips moving silently as though she were chanting something under her breath. A faint light surrounded her hands, shifting from silver to pale blue as the wound began to close.

"You're lucky it wasn't deeper," she said, her tone clinical. "Another inch, and you'd have lost more than just blood."

I watched her work, unable to look away. The glow of her magic was mesmerizing, the way it moved and pulsed like a living thing. When the light finally faded, she sat back on her heels, studying me with a critical eye.

"That should hold for now," she said. "But don't push yourself. Healing magic accelerates the process, but it doesn't make you invincible."

I nodded, feeling the warmth of her magic lingering beneath my skin. "Thank you," I said quietly.

Her expression softened slightly, though she didn't smile. "Take care of yourself," she said simply, before rising to her feet and turning her attention back to the others.

Kaldar stepped forward, his hand resting briefly on my shoulder. "You'll be fine," he said, his voice steady. "But we're not out of this yet."

Myrial turned to Kaldar, her brows furrowing. "The wolves' behavior wasn't natural. Their coordination, their ferocity, it's the mark of dark magic."

Kaldar nodded grimly. "And whoever's casting it is close."

Elryan, who had been pacing near the window, snorted. "You're sure about that? Or is this just another guess?"

Kaldar's glare silenced him. "This isn't a debate," he said coldly. "I know what I saw, and I trust my instincts."

Myrial nodded, her expression grim. "The wolves were being directed. Their movements were too precise, too calculated."

"We need to find the source," I said, the words escaping before I could stop them. Kaldar turned to me, his eyes narrowing slightly, not in suspicion but in assessment.

"You've been thinking the same thing," I pressed, meeting his gaze. "If we don't stop this now, it'll only get worse."

Kaldar nodded slowly, his shoulders tense. "You're right. But this isn't something we can rush. Dark magic leaves traces, but finding them isn't easy."

Myrial's silver eyes gleamed faintly as she stepped closer. "He's right," she said. "There will be signs—runes, sigils, residual mana. But we have to move carefully. Whoever cast this spell will be watching."

Elryan rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. "And what do you suggest? Wandering through the woods, hoping to stumble on a clue?"

"More like following the trail," Kaldar said sharply. "The wolves didn't attack randomly. They were sent here for a reason."

Myrial tilted her head, considering his words. "If we search the perimeter, we might find something. A focal point for the spell, perhaps."

"And what if there's nothing?" Elryan challenged. "What if this was just a one-time attack?"

"Then we'll know," Kaldar replied coolly. "But until we do, we assume the worst."

The room fell silent, the weight of his words settling over us. Myrial's gaze shifted to me, her expression softening. "You fought well, Alaric," she said gently. "But there's something… unusual about the way you fight."

I tensed, unsure how to respond. "What do you mean?" I asked cautiously.

"It's instinctive," she said. "Too instinctive. As if you've been doing this for years."

I looked down at my hands, the knuckles raw and trembling. "I don't remember anything before a few days ago," I admitted quietly. "But when I fight… it feels natural. Like I don't have to think."

Kaldar exchanged a glance with Myrial, his expression unreadable. "We'll figure it out later," he said firmly. "Right now, we have more pressing matters."

Myrial nodded, turning to the others. "We should split up. Cover more ground. Elryan and I will search the outskirts for any magical traces. Kaldar, you take Alaric and see if there's anything unusual in the village itself."

"Fine," Elryan muttered, clearly displeased but unwilling to argue further. He adjusted his armor with a huff before following Myrial out the door.

Kaldar turned to me, his hand resting briefly on my shoulder. "Stay sharp," he said. "And remember, if something feels wrong, trust your instincts."

I nodded, the flicker of fire in my chest growing stronger as I followed him into the cold. The battle had been only the beginning. Whatever force had sent those wolves wasn't finished. And neither were we.