“By morning the entire village was silent.”
The pain in his voice cuts deeper than anger ever could.
“They used sound to turn neighbor against neighbor,” he continues. “To amplify fear until it becomes madness. By the time the sun rose, my home was gone.”
Understanding dawns slowly and painfully.
“Dark elves,” I whisper.
His gaze sharpens. “Yes.”
The word hangs between us like a blade.
“I swore that day that humanity would never again stand defenseless against magic like theirs.”
My chest tightens. “Khaivor is not?—”
“They are all capable of it,” Orrick interrupts sharply. “And now you have created something that could magnify their power beyond imagination.”
The fury returns, burning brighter than before. “You don’t know him.”
“I know what his kind can do.” he replies.
“He is not a weapon.”
“Neither were the children in my village,” he says.
The words slam into me with crushing force. For a moment, silence falls between us.
“I am trying to protect this town,” he says beneath his breath.
“ No… you are trying to control it,” I reply.
His silence confirms everything and I leave the temple with troubling thoughts.
By the timeI reach the forge, the weight of everything I have learned crashes down all at once. My legs give out before I reach the door, and I sink onto the steps as sobs tear their way out of my chest.
I don’t know how long I sit there before I feel arms wrap gently around my shoulders.
Khaivor kneels beside me, his presence warm and steady and achingly familiar.
“What happened?” he asks softly.
I turn into him without thinking, burying my face against his chest as the words spill out in broken waves. He listens without interruption, his arms tightening around me with every trembling breath.
When I finish, the silence that follows feels fragile and heavy and full of unspoken fear.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers.
I pull back just enough to glance at him. “None of this is your fault.”
His expression is filled with quiet anguish. “It always becomes my fault eventually.”
I cradle his face in my hands, forcing him to meet my eyes.
“Not this time.” I utter and something fragile and hopeful flickers in his gaze.
“We are going to make this right,”
