The forge of Myla was no more than a collapsed brazier. The screams resounded in the alleys in flames. The hooves of the Minotaurs struck the ground like end-of-the-world drums.
Bell stumbled, his hoe still in hand, short of breath. Before him, a gigantic Minotaur flattened its mass.
He raised the tool to stop, but the force of the blow ejected him like a rag doll. He struck a cart overturned in a crash of bone and wood. His vision was blurred.
The Minotaur was advancing. Slowly. His beastly breath raised dust clouds. He was going to finish him.
Bell wanted to get up. But his arms were shaking. His legs refused. He closed his eyes.
And then... he felt something. A warmth. A dull beat in his spine. Like a forgotten echo of a divine name.
His back lit up.
A golden, sacred pattern slowly awakened on her skin. Its long-dormant falna was activated in a sacred pulsation. The hoe vibrated between his fingers. It was no longer a tool. It was a weapon.
Bell opened his eyes. He yelled. And rushed.
He struck the Minotaur's knee. A crack. The beast wobbled. He leaped at it, raised the burning hoe.
— Holy Strike!
The light bursts. Pure. Blinding. It pierced the monster's torso and shattered the crystal lodged in his chest. A rattle. Then the dust.
But Bell fell immediately to his knees, his breath hissing. The broken hoe was still smoking in his hand. He was bleeding everywhere. He looked up: two other Minotaurs were approaching.
—No... not now...
He wanted to get up. He failed. His hand sank into the earth, soaked with ashes and blood.
—Bell!
Karin appears, her face distorted by the panic. She grabs him under her shoulders.
... Get up! You have to... you have to move!
Ranno, Elior, and two other young men ran, holding forks, forges, everything they had found.
-- Move it back! We're slowing them down!
Bell murmured, almost speechless.
—Sorry... I couldn't get you all... protect...
—Shut up! You're alive, and that's all that matters!
They were dragging him. Slowly. Too slowly.
The Minotaurs were approaching. Great. Devastating. The torches were weakening.
And then...
The ground rumbled. A roar of fire split in the night.
A red lightning struck the earth. A column of flames rose, burning the first monster.
The other looked up... a spear of shadow sprang from the roof of a house, and pierced him through.
The survivors stood still.
—What is...
Four silhouettes had just appeared. On the heights. Flying capes. Weapons in clear.
—This is... Elendir...
—And Nyssa... Lyra... Grum...
—The Four Masters...
The moon illuminated their faces. Their looks. Their silence.
Nyssa is already drawing her sword, the flames reflecting on the steel.
—You hurt my kids. You're going to regret that.
Grum smiles, fists tight.
Lyra was no longer there. She had already disappeared into the shadows.
And Elendir... knelt down near Bell. He put two fingers on his chest.
—Hang on, Bell.
The boy lost consciousness in the ashes.
The battlefield of Rhodos was still burning under the bright lights of dawn. The ashes flew, the bodies of monsters crumbled into dust, and the ground still trembled under the last clashes.
Bell's four masters fought as elemental forces.
Nyssa, the obsidian blade in hand, whirled between the Minotaurs. Each movement was a lethal dance.
—Sword Dance – Step 4: Split Wind!
His blade shone. In a single movement, it disarmed three enemies, knocking them down with an acrobatic whirl. She dodged an axe, rolled on the ground, and thrust her sword down a giant goblin's throat.
Grum, in the center of chaos, roared like a god of war.
— Runehammer – Earth wave!
He hit the ground. A shock wave split the stone, flying a whole group of creatures. His body was a wall. No monster passed. A horde charged him?
- Defensive form – Dwarf Bastion!
His shield stood up, unshakable. He pushed back the assaults like a rock against the waves.
Lyra, invisible, appeared from shadow to shadow. Her cape seemed to float without noise, her arrows guided by a supernatural instinct.
– Hawk's Eye – Predator's Heart!
She fired three arrows in the dark. Each hit a different point of life. Then she jumped from a collapsed roof, planted her daggers in an ogre and bounced back to the next target.
— Combo – Silent Hunt!
Two arrows, a dagger, a roll, a backfire. No unnecessary movement.
And Elendir, in the center, erected shields of light.
— Aegis Lux – First Star Wall!
A golden barrier repelled a dark spell cast by a mutated creature. He responded with a simple gesture of his hand.
— Divine seal – Light of purification!
A white ray struck a group of enemies, disintegrating them slowly, without noise.
And in the middle of the battle... Bell lay unconscious.
Elendir approached, knelt down. His hands touched the boy's bloody chest.
— Magia Vitae – Breathe again, Bell.
A soft golden light gushes out of his palms, slowly closing the most critical wounds. The boy trembled. His mouth barely opened.
... My... grandpa... he's... in the forest... help him...
His eyes rolled back, and he fainted.
Lyra heard, turned her head. Her eyes crossed those of Grum. He nodded without a word.
—I'll get it.
And she disappeared into the shadows, running like the wind, her eyes fixed on the woods where it all began.
Five hours later.
The sun barely filtered through the shutters of the small room, drawing golden lines on the floor.
Bell slowly opened his eyes.
His whole body was screaming in pain. He tried to move but a warm hand prevented it. A hand pressed against his own.
Karin, sleeping at her bedside, head on the bed.
He stood there, looking at her. She breathed softly. The hair on her cheek vibrated with every breath.
The door opened in silence. Nyssa entered, followed by Grum.
—He is awake, breathed Nyssa with a smile.
Bell wanted to speak. He whispered.
—My grandfather... ...is he all right?
Nyssa lost her smile. Grum looked away.
Elendir appeared in the doorway, the air dark.
— Lyra came back an hour ago. She found... only blood. And dead goblins. Many. No sign of Zephyr.
A heavy silence fell on the room.
Karin awoke in a shock. Her eyes crossed those of Bell, moist, silent.
She said nothing. She just leaned... and held him against her.
And Bell, in that silence, wept.
He just squeezed that hand as hard as he could.
And in his back, his falna slowly began to shine.
Three days later
The sun had risen over a wounded village, but standing.
Rhodos was healing her wounds. Myla's forge was still smoking, but the fire was extinguished. Buckets passed from hand to hand, boards were nailed to broken houses, tools were gathered. And at the center of this reconstruction... the four masters were not content to fight.
Nyssa (the wife of elendir, level 5 adventurer, familia Aton) carried a wounded child on her back, gently depositing it with Elendir (level 6 adventurer, familia Aton), who knelt down, closed the wounds of the villagers with silent, posed magic. Grum (level 4 adventurer, family Aton), shirtless, cleared the rubble with bare hands, carrying whole beams on his shoulders. Lyra (level 4 adventurer, family Aton), she, hopped from roof to roof, watching for the slightest suspicious movement coming from the forest.
The chief of the village, an old man with a ragged coat, approached Elendir, looking dark.
—Where do these monsters come from? I've lived here for forty years. Never seen such an attack.
Elendir looked up while stabilizing the breathing of an injured teenager.
— Long before the foundation of the city of Orario, some monsters escaped from the Keep. They hid themselves in the deep forests, buried, hidden. This phenomenon was forgotten by all...
He took a break.
— But for the last four months, these creatures have been moving. Coming out of their lair. As if called by something. Or pushed back by a greater force.
The chief blesses, clenching his fists.
—So...it's not an isolated attack.
—No, replied Elendir. It's a wake.
---
On the square, the atmosphere was heavy. The villagers worked without talking, each in a bubble of automatic gestures. But some voices still spoke.
—He still hasn't come out? asked Ranno, placing a bucket near the well.
—Not once, replied Elior. Even the lamp that Karin left on the threshold was out.
—I went up three times, said Karin with a tense voice. He didn't open anything. I left bread, water... not even a look behind the window.
— He almost died, Ranno murmured. He saw his grandfather disappear. He saved Myla, he fought alone. You think he only knows how to mourn?
Elior shrugged, looking sad.
—And in the meantime, we're waiting for him to get up.
Ranno, Karin and Elior's parents helped to rebuild the roof of the bakery. Karin's father, a square man with a rough voice, suddenly said:
—If he doesn't come out soon, I'll go up and get him myself. You can't rebuild a village by burying yourself.
—Give him time," said Elior's mother. "He took it all in his chest.
Ranno's father, quieter, added:
—He must not think that we forget him. It is our duty as well. He protected our children.
And in the house on top of the hill, Bell stood alone, with his back to the world. The light of his falna shone softly in the shadow.
Three days.
Three days since Bell spoke to no one.
Not a word, not a step out of his perched house. The light did not even filter through the shutters. The few dishes that Karin had left him were chilled on the threshold, intact. Neither his friends, nor his masters, nor the calls of the wind had succeeded in pulling him out of this silence.
Inside, he was going around in circles.
He was thinking of Zephyr.
To his ragged voice, his stupid advice on girls, his fat laughter by the fire, his stories of heroes and dragons.
And most importantly... this last time.
When he had seen him, standing alone in front of a horde, an old silver stick in his hand, the look more serious than ever.
> It's my fault.
I left him alone.
It's me... it's because of me.
These words were repeated in his head like chains that he could not break.
On the fourth morning, the sun barely dared to penetrate the mist.
Bell stood up.
His gestures were slow, mechanical, as if his body weighed twice as much. He crossed the house, each step cracking under his step like an old sigh. The walls seemed to hold their breath, as if they knew what was coming.
He came before the chamber of Zephyr.
And there...
A noise.
Ploc.
Sec. Deaf. Like a book falling off a shelf.
His heart froze.
A glimmer of hope, absurd, burning, ran through his chest.
He opened the door.
—Papi...?
But the room was empty.
Just... a book open on the floor, fallen from the top of the old cupboard.
Bell approached slowly, hands shaking. He picked it up.
On the cover, a golden writing, erased by time:
"For Zeus".
—Zeus...?
His breath stuck in his throat. He turned the book, flipped it at full speed.
Old photos. Faces. Laughter frozen in the past. Men and women dressed as adventurers. Some smiled. Others posed with pride. At the center of almost every page, a recurring symbol: a thunderbolt surrounded by wings.
Then... a hand-scribbled title:
"Familia Zeus – Orario".
He relut. Once. Twice.
—My... grandfather... was called Zeus...?
His voice went out at once.
He staggered, put the book on the table. His gaze fell upon an envelope wedged between two pages, sealed with a simple frayed ribbon.
He opened it. Slowly.
Inside... a letter.
---
> Zeus,
I am writing to tell you about Little Bell.
My twin sister, Meteria, is dead.
She and I had a birth disease.
I feel my turn coming.
Bell is all I have left.
His father... was one of your former companions.
Raise him from war.
Far from the gods.
For Meteria.
For Bell.
- Alfia, Familia Hera
---
He reread every word. Again and again. Until the letters were blurred under his tears.
—Meteria... was it my mother...?
His legs gave way. He fell on his knees, the paper against his chest.
He started to search. Frantically. The drawers. The chests. The hidden boxes. He found notes. Cards. Scribbled names. Faces on blurry portraits. Fragments. Lies by omission.
Everything he thought he knew about himself...
Was only a veil.
And behind this veil... there was a broader truth. Older. More dangerous.
He pressed the letter against him, burning eyes. And in his back, the light of his phalna vibrated softly. As if she understood.
To be continued