Page 21 of Sundered By Fate

The glyph burned hot—hotter than it had since he'd left Drindal. It was a warning and a promise, the imprint of his bond with Malekith.

"I need to see what it is." Aric's voice was rougher than he'd intended, but he couldn't take it back now. The urge to reach out and touch this magic was too strong; he could no more deny it than he could deny breathing.

Before Davin could protest or offer any of his own readings or words of caution, Aric lifted his hand toward the center of the clearing. The air itself seemed to ripple around them as his own magic reached out in response to the tugging, casting golden light through the shadows like dawn breaking over a haunted land.

The anomaly surged in response.

With a deafening roar, the fabric of reality ripped open before them—spatial warping or disruption from whatever temporal instability fueled this place. Tendrils of raw energy lashed out wildly as it erupted into view, smashing into tree trunks and ripping open saplings as they grew up from the earth and disintegrated all within moments. One tendril came far too close for comfort?—

Davin tackled Aric just in time to pull him clear, rolling them both into cover as another wave of distortion crashed over the clearing. Heat seared past their skin, singeing leaves and evaporating dew from morning's cold breath.

When they came to rest in the underbrush, neither man moved for several heartbeats—just lay panting together amid smoking foliage and singed earth while crimson light danced across the canopy above.

"Gods," Davin breathed after long seconds had passed. "That almost had us."

Aric didn't reply right away; just stared up at that churning sky beyond them—the storm they'd almost called down on themselves by touching what shouldn't be touched. Something deep within him felt called toward it still . . .

But instead of meeting whatever it sought there—the source of its strange resonance—he met Davin's worried stare instead; those gold-flecked eyes searching his face intently even as they remained wrapped tightly together amid crackling arcs above their heads.

"It—it's all right." The words came with difficulty—a truth dragged reluctantly into daylight—but once spoken seemed to echo down an endless corridor inside him somewhere, filling empty places long left hollowed out and aching dryly away from home. "I'll be fine."

He didn't know if that last part was true anymore than what lay ahead. Not really. Not when thoughts gnawed ceaselessly inside: secrets half-glimpsed, images that could be memories or nightmares or warnings. Even the Malekith of his dreams last night didn't seem to know which; didn't seem, clearly, to be real or imagined, or something else entirely.

Gods, what was wrong with Aric? What did he care what became of some hateful demon prince far away? He shouldn't. He couldn't. He couldn't pin humanity's hopes on a chance that their half-confessed dreams might be real, that there could be any kind of future for them.

But telling himself so did nothing to stop the acute yearning for it he felt all the same.

With Davin's readings and notes in hand, Aric followed him back through the woods to Thornhaven. The chill fog hadn't lifted, casting a gray pall over the town's thatched roofs andcobblestone streets. Even in daylight, Thornhaven felt insular, its high walls more of a mental barrier than a physical one.

The townspeople gave them wary looks as they passed—guards clutching their spears tighter, merchants glancing up from their stalls, mothers ushering children away. Aric tried to ignore the burn of shame in his cheeks. He knew they still feared him; he could almost taste their suspicion on the air. But he didn't want to think about what might happen if Cyrus returned—or worse, if the Silver Tower's patience ran out.

"Aric," Davin said softly, resting a hand on his shoulder. "You did what you had to out there. You saved us all."

Aric wanted to believe him. But the shivers coursing through his veins told a different story.

The town hall loomed ahead, its double doors thrown open in welcome. As they approached, Aric spotted Olaya and Ruta waiting with Townmaster Virida and a few other guards, including Bastian, who looked none too contrite at having summoned the Pureblades. Still, as Aric met Olaya's eyes, he caught the faintest hint of a smile before her expression settled into its usual mask of authority.

Aric's palms were sweating as they entered the town hall, the oppressive sense of tension thickening the air inside. Olaya led them to a long table where the town leaders had gathered—Virida, arms crossed and frowning; Bastian, watchful and wary; a few other council members who looked at Aric with a mixture of skepticism and curiosity.

And Cyrus, lurking in the shadows, his presence a dark cloud over the proceedings.

Aric tried to look anywhere else as he and Davin took their seats, but his disdain was palpable. Aric set his jaw, determined not to let it show how much it affected him. He had a job to do here, and he couldn't afford any distractions.

"Let's begin," Olaya said, her voice firm but reassuring. "Davin, would you share your findings with us?"

Davin nodded, pulling a small brass device from his satchel and setting it on the table. "This is a prototype from the Silver Tower," he explained. "It measures fluctuations in magical energy—particularly those associated with the anomaly we've been monitoring."

Aric watched the device curiously; it was a delicate thing, all gears and glass tubes filled with swirling liquid. As Davin adjusted some of the dials, the liquid shifted color from blue to purple to red.

"As you can see," Davin continued, "there's a significant increase in magical energy levels around Thornhaven. These readings are off the charts."

There was a murmur among the council members, their expressions ranging from concern to disbelief. Virida leaned forward, her eyes narrowed.

"And you think this is related to the warped demons we've been seeing?"

Davin hesitated, glancing at Aric before answering. "It's possible. But whatever is causing this surge in magic—it's something we've never seen before. It's . . . unstable. Unpredictable."

Aric nodded, feeling a cold shiver run down his spine at Davin's words. He'd felt that instability himself—the way his magic had reacted out in the forest—and he had no doubt that it was connected to whatever was happening here.

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