The Forsaken Heir

The fire crackled softly in the center of the camp, casting flickering light across the gathered group. Lorian sat close to the flames, staring into the embers with a distant expression. Around him, the guards quietly moved about, preparing for the night. Elara had disappeared into her tent earlier, leaving Lorian to brood over the events of the day.

He didn’t notice her approach until she was already beside him, her light footsteps nearly silent on the soft earth. Lorian looked up, surprised to see her out of her tent, her cloak pulled tightly around her shoulders. She hesitated before sitting next to him by the fire, her eyes flicking toward him briefly before looking away.

For a few moments, neither of them spoke, the crackling of the fire filling the silence between them. Elara’s hand twitched slightly at her side, and with a small spark of light, a glowing coin appeared between her fingers. She began to flip it back and forth absentmindedly, the small disc of light weaving through her fingers with practiced precision.

Lorian raised an eyebrow. “I’ve seen you do this before, but it always looks like you’re showing off,” he remarked, his voice laced with curiosity.

Elara let out a soft chuckle, flipping the glowing coin one last time before it disappeared. “Not showing off,” she said, her tone light. “It’s something Father taught me. He said it helps with focus—to keep the shape and movement constant.”

She hesitated, then added, “I do it when I’m nervous.”

Lorian glanced at her. “Nervous? You?”

Elara gave him a look, half-amused, half-serious. “Contrary to what you might think, I don’t have everything figured out, Lorian.”

They sat in silence for a few more moments before Elara spoke again, her tone more tentative. “I… I know things have been tense between us. I didn’t mean to push earlier.”

Lorian shifted slightly, guilt creeping in. “It’s not your fault, Elara. I’ve just been… off lately.” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know how to deal with all this—being your Shieldbearer, losing the Grand Melee. It feels like everything’s slipping out of my control.”

Elara was quiet for a moment, then, with a small sigh, she held out her hand. Another coin of light appeared, spinning between her fingers before she flicked it toward him.

“Here, try it,” she said, the glowing coin stopping mid-air, hovering in front of Lorian.

Lorian raised an eyebrow, eyeing the small disc of light with uncertainty. “I’m not really the light-magic type, Elara.”

She smiled, her expression soft. “It’s not about the light. It’s about focus. Just try to keep it steady.”

Lorian hesitated, then, with a faint sigh, he reached out and took the coin. The moment his fingers touched it, he felt the faint hum of magic beneath his skin, the warmth of the light magic familiar yet distant—Elara’s magic had always been precise, while his had always felt… volatile.

“Now, flip it,” Elara instructed gently, watching him with a small, encouraging smile.

Lorian attempted to pass the coin between his fingers like she had, but it sputtered and faded almost instantly. He frowned in frustration, feeling the familiar surge of his mana trying to break free.

“Don’t force it,” Elara said softly. “Just let it flow.”

Lorian let out a breath, trying again. This time, he focused on keeping the magic steady, the coin of light flickering back into existence between his fingers. Slowly, hesitantly, he began to pass it between his fingers, the motion awkward at first, but steadying with each pass.

“There you go,” Elara said, her voice quiet but full of pride. “See? You’re doing it.”

Lorian chuckled softly, the tension easing just a little as he continued to flip the coin. “Looks like I’ve got a backup plan if this whole sword thing doesn’t work out.”

Elara grinned, the light of the fire dancing in her eyes. “I don’t think you’ll be quitting the sword anytime soon, but it’s good to have options.”

They both laughed softly, the moment breaking the tension that had lingered between them for days. For the first time, Lorian felt some of the weight on his chest lift, even if just a little.

After a few more moments of flipping the coin, it disappeared again, the glow fading into the night. Lorian leaned back, looking at his sister with a more genuine expression than before.

“Thanks,” he said quietly. “For… not giving up on me. I know I haven’t been easy to deal with.”

Elara’s smile softened. “You’re my brother, Lorian. I’ll always have your back. Even if it means you’re stuck being my Shieldbearer for a while.”

Lorian snorted. “Yeah, I guess that’s what family’s for.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the fire crackling gently between them. Finally, Elara stretched, letting out a soft sigh. “I think I’ll turn in. Tomorrow’s going to be another long day.”

Lorian nodded, watching as she stood and made her way back toward her tent. Just as she reached the entrance, she paused and glanced back at him.

“You know,” she said, her voice light but sincere, “we’ll figure this out. Together.”

Lorian gave her a small smile. “Yeah. Together.”

Elara disappeared into her tent, leaving Lorian alone by the fire. The warmth of their conversation lingered in the air, a welcome reprieve from the unease he’d been carrying.

He stared into the flames, his mind drifting back to the coin trick Elara had shown him. It wasn’t much, but it had reminded him of something important—control wasn’t just about power. It was about focus, about finding balance between strength and restraint.

As the camp settled into quiet, Lorian’s thoughts were interrupted by a faint noise in the distance—a rustling, barely audible over the crackle of the fire. He straightened, his senses sharpening. At first, it was so soft he thought he’d imagined it, but then it came again—low, like a distant growl, carried on the wind.

Lorian instinctively reached for his sword, his eyes scanning the edge of the camp. The guards remained at their posts, oblivious to the faint sound, but Lorian couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

He glanced over at Aric, who was standing near the perimeter, his back to the fire. For a moment, Lorian considered saying something, but then he hesitated. Maybe it was just his nerves, the lingering weight of the day playing tricks on his mind.

But even as he tried to brush the thought aside, the unease remained, settling deep in his chest like a stone.

Something was out there.

And it was getting closer.

The night settled heavily over the camp, the crackling of the fire the only sound cutting through the oppressive silence. Lorian’s hand hovered over the hilt of his sword, his eyes scanning the treeline as strange noises grew louder in the distance.

Aric stepped forward, his posture tense, his experienced eyes narrowing as he focused on the rustling in the underbrush. Something was wrong—this wasn’t just a random animal lurking in the dark. His instincts, honed by years of combat, told him that something far worse was out there.

And then they all heard it: a low, bone-chilling growl that echoed through the trees.

“Everyone, stay alert,” Aric ordered, his voice calm but commanding.

Lorian glanced at Aric, his heart pounding. “What is it?”

Aric didn’t answer right away, his eyes locked on the darkness. And then, with a grim look, he muttered, “Wendigo.”

Lorian’s blood ran cold. He’d heard stories of the Wendigo—twisted, cursed creatures of hunger and darkness—but he had never seen one, never imagined he would. He swallowed hard, gripping his sword tighter.

The creature emerged from the treeline slowly, its hulking form barely visible in the dim firelight. It was grotesque—a gaunt, humanoid figure with impossibly long limbs and sharp, twisted claws. Its eyes glowed with a malevolent hunger, and its mouth stretched into a terrifying grin filled with razor-sharp teeth. The air around it felt colder, as though its very presence drained the warmth from the night.

Without hesitation, Aric drew his sword, his fingers flexing around the hilt as a faint red glow began to shimmer around the blade. Within moments, fire flickered to life along the steel, dancing along the edge of the sword in a controlled blaze.

“Fire is their weakness,” Aric said, his tone calm and measured. “Stay back and let me handle this.”

Lorian’s breath hitched, but he obeyed, stepping back toward Elara, who had emerged from her tent. She watched the creature with wide eyes, but her fear was tempered with understanding. “That’s… that’s a Wendigo,” she whispered, her voice filled with a mix of awe and horror.

Aric advanced on the creature without hesitation, his flaming sword lighting up the night as he squared off against the Wendigo. The beast let out a snarling roar and lunged at him, its claws swiping through the air with lethal speed.

But Aric was faster. He sidestepped the attack with practiced ease, his flaming blade slashing through the air in a bright arc. The fire bit into the creature’s flesh, and the Wendigo let out an agonized screech, stumbling back as its skin charred and blackened under the searing heat.

Lorian watched, wide-eyed, as Aric pressed the attack. His movements were fluid and precise, each swing of his sword landing perfectly as flames danced along the creature’s twisted form. The Wendigo thrashed, trying to counter with its claws, but it was no match for Aric’s skill and power.

Elara stood beside Lorian, her eyes locked on the fight. “Wendigos are drawn to mana,” she murmured, her voice quick and analytical. “The stronger the mana, the stronger their hunger.”

Lorian glanced at her. “Can Aric handle it?”

“He’s a Lord, Lorian,” Elara said, her eyes narrowing in concentration. “But Wendigos are relentless. There might be more.”

As if on cue, a second, piercing howl echoed through the night.

Lorian’s blood ran cold as a second Wendigo emerged from the opposite side of the camp, its glowing eyes locking onto the group. This one was just as twisted and terrifying as the first, its claws gleaming in the firelight as it charged forward.

“Another one!” Lorian shouted, drawing his sword as the creature closed in on the camp.

The guards, already on edge, sprang into action. Swords were drawn, shields raised, and the camp erupted into chaos as the Wendigo charged toward them. Lorian moved to intercept, but the creature was fast—faster than anything he had ever faced.

The Wendigo’s claws raked across one of the guards, Alaric, with terrifying precision, sending him sprawling to the ground with a cry of pain. Blood splattered the ground, and Lorian’s heart pounded in his chest as he rushed to cover the injured guard.

“Alaric!” Lorian shouted, trying to pull him back.

The Wendigo lunged again, its claws coming down with deadly force. Lorian barely managed to raise his sword in time, the impact sending a jarring shock through his arms. His grip faltered, the sheer weight of the creature’s attack pushing him back.

The Wendigo roared, its eyes locked on Lorian, its claws flashing through the air once more. Lorian ducked, narrowly avoiding the strike, but he stumbled, his footing lost. The Wendigo seized the opportunity and lunged at him again.

“Lorian, move!” Elara shouted, panic creeping into her voice.

Before the creature’s claws could find their mark, Riana, one of the guards, charged in from the side, her sword flashing as she drove it into the Wendigo’s shoulder. The creature screeched, staggering back just long enough for Lorian to regain his footing.

But the reprieve was short-lived. The Wendigo twisted, its regeneration already closing the wound, and it turned its fury on Riana. With a savage swipe, it knocked her off her feet, sending her crashing into the dirt. She cried out, clutching her side where the Wendigo had struck her.

Lorian’s pulse raced. He couldn’t let this thing tear through them. His sword felt heavy in his hands, and his muscles screamed from the effort, but he had to keep going. If they didn’t stop it, it would slaughter them all.

“Elara!” Lorian shouted, his voice desperate. “We need that spell now!”

Elara was already in motion, her hands glowing with a bright, radiant light. “I need more time!” she called back, her voice tight with concentration.

The Wendigo lunged at them again, its claws slashing through the air with terrifying speed. Lorian raised his sword just in time, blocking the strike, but the force of the blow nearly sent him to his knees. He grit his teeth, pushing back with all his strength, but the creature was relentless.

Beside him, one of the guards swung his sword at the Wendigo, only to be knocked aside with a vicious swipe. The creature was overwhelming them, its speed and strength far beyond anything they had prepared for.

Lorian’s arms burned, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he fought to keep the Wendigo at bay. His sword clashed with the creature’s claws, the force of the blows sending shockwaves through his body. Each strike felt heavier than the last, his strength waning with every passing moment.

“Hold on, Lorian!” Elara shouted, her voice filled with urgency. “Just a little longer!”

The Wendigo’s eyes glowed with hunger as it pressed its attack, its claws flashing through the air in a blur. Lorian ducked and rolled to the side, barely avoiding the strike, but the creature was already on him again.

He swung his sword with all his might, landing a blow on the creature’s arm. The Wendigo screeched, but its regeneration kicked in almost immediately, the wound closing before Lorian could follow up with another strike.

“This thing doesn’t quit,” Lorian muttered through gritted teeth, his frustration mounting.

Just then, Aric’s voice rang out from across the camp. “Hold it off!”

Lorian barely registered the shout before Aric, having dispatched the first Wendigo, sprinted toward them, his flaming sword still blazing in the night. But the second Wendigo seemed to sense the new threat and roared, lunging once more at Lorian.

Lorian braced himself, raising his sword to block, but the Wendigo was too fast. Its claws came down in a flash, knocking Lorian’s sword aside and sending him sprawling to the ground. He gasped as the impact knocked the wind from his lungs, his vision spinning as he tried to push himself up.

The Wendigo loomed over him, its glowing eyes burning with hunger as it raised its claws for the killing blow.

“Lorian!” Elara’s voice was filled with panic, and a brilliant beam of light shot out from her hands, slamming into the Wendigo’s side. The creature screeched in pain, its body convulsing as the radiant energy tore through it.

The creature staggered, its movements slowing as Elara’s spell disrupted the dark magic that kept it alive. But it wasn’t enough to finish it off.

Lorian, still gasping for breath, seized the moment. He pushed himself to his feet, his legs shaking, and with one final burst of strength, he drove his sword into the Wendigo’s chest.

The creature let out a final, gurgling snarl before collapsing to the ground, its body twitching as the last of its life drained away.

The camp fell silent once more, save for the crackling of the fire and the labored breathing of the exhausted fighters.

Lorian stood over the fallen Wendigo, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. His body ached from the battle, his muscles burning from the effort. His gaze flicked to Alaric and Riana, who were both injured but alive.

Aric arrived at his side, his sword still flickering with flames, but his expression was calm and composed. “Good work,” he said, his voice steady. “You held them off long enough.”

Elara approached, her hands still glowing faintly as she knelt beside Riana, channeling her light magic to heal the worst of her injuries. The soft glow wrapped around the wound, soothing the pain and beginning to mend the torn flesh.

Riana winced slightly, then managed a weak grin. “This is why I like working for the Aelorias,” she joked, glancing at Alaric, who sat nearby nursing a smaller wound. “They’re all healers.”

Alaric chuckled. “I’m starting to think getting injured isn’t such a bad idea.”

Elara shook her head, smiling despite herself. “If you’re trying to get out of work, you’ll have to try harder than that.”

Riana gave a soft laugh. “Honestly, I’ll take your healing touch over skipping chores any day.”

As the light faded from Elara’s hands, Riana exhaled in relief. “Thanks, Lady Elara. I’ll be back on my feet soon.”

“You’ll be fine,” Elara assured her, her smile soft. “Just take it easy for a while.”

Lorian wiped the sweat from his brow, still trembling from the fight. His muscles ached, the adrenaline starting to wear off. He glanced toward the fallen Wendigo, his brow furrowing as unease gnawed at him.

He turned to Aric. “Is it normal for creatures like Wendigos to be this close to the capital? I thought they stayed in caves or deep in the woods.”

Aric’s expression darkened, his gaze sweeping the treeline. “No, it’s not. Wendigos are territorial. They don’t usually venture near roads or populated areas—especially not this close to Valeria.”

Lorian’s unease deepened. “Then what drew them here?”

Aric sheathed his sword, the flames along its edge extinguishing with a quiet hiss. His eyes scanned the camp, his posture tense. “That’s what I’m wondering. Creatures like this don’t wander into open spaces unless something’s drawing them out.”

Elara stood, brushing the dirt off her hands as she glanced at the Wendigo. “Could it be… magic? Dark magic, maybe?”

Aric gave a thoughtful nod. “Could be. Wendigos are drawn to mana—especially powerful sources. If something nearby is strong enough to disrupt them, it could explain why they’re here.”

Lorian frowned, glancing between the dead creature and the dark forest beyond. “But we’re close to Valeria. This region’s supposed to be secure. What could be strong enough to attract them?”

Aric’s gaze narrowed. “That’s what worries me. If there’s something strong enough to disturb creatures like this, it’s dangerous enough to be on guard for.”

A heavy silence fell over the group, the weight of Aric’s words hanging in the air. The Wendigos had been bad enough, but the idea of something stronger lurking nearby was far more unsettling.

Aric broke the silence, turning to the guards. “Double the watch tonight. We’re too close to the capital to take any chances. If anything else moves out there, I want to know immediately.”

The guards nodded, their earlier humor vanishing as they moved into position. The flickering campfire cast long shadows across the clearing, and the tension grew as everyone quietly prepared for a long night.

Lorian sat beside the fire, his eyes drawn to the dark horizon. The road ahead suddenly seemed much more dangerous than he’d imagined. Something out there was powerful enough to disturb creatures like the Wendigo, and that meant they had to be ready for whatever came next.