*Transitioning into Verhedyn's POV
The air was still.
Too still.
A crushing silence blanketed the ruined structure like a shroud, broken only by the shallow breaths of the lone figure standing at its heart.
Vehedyn's boots shifted carefully against the dust-laden floor, sending faint echoes through the dilapidated stone chamber.
The building—what little remained of it—looked as though it had been gutted by time and fire.
The walls sagged inwards, their fractured edges casting long, narrow shadows that twisted across the floor like slumbering snakes, slithering silently toward every dark corner.
He turned slowly, eyes narrowing.
Every brick, every crack in the wall felt like a pair of watching eyes.
The scent of ancient ash hung heavy in the air, clinging to every surface like the memory of a death long passed.
*crack…
The faintest of sounds whispered through the tension.
Above him, somewhere beyond the buckling ceiling, a soft fracture groaned.
Small pieces of debris crumbled loose and tumbled down, pattering softly like rain onto stone.
The silence afterward was oppressive.
He couldn't even hear the wind outside.
Only the steady sound of his own breathing, drawn short and shallow from the weight pressing against his chest.
The thud of his boots, though gentle, might as well have been cannon fire with how loud it seemed in this dead place.
Every fiber of his body was tight, drawn like a string ready to snap.
His muscles refused to relax, sensing the weight of something unseen—like the ruin itself was holding its breath.
Then it came.
*CRACK!
A sudden, violent snap of sound tore through the air like a whip.
It came from a broken window just ahead, shards of ancient glass still lodged along its frame like jagged teeth.
Vehedyn flinched sharply, his head snapping in that direction, one hand already moving toward his belt—not for a weapon, but out of sheer reflex.
He gritted his teeth and let out a breath through his nose, trying to calm the spike of fear.
Then he chuckled—a dry, sarcastic sound that barely masked the tension in his chest.
"Hey hey," he muttered aloud, voice tight but steadying, "you should probably meet your apprentice face to face, yeah? That's the polite thing, right?"
But the building gave no reply—
only silence.
.
.
.
And then—
*WHZZZZT!
Something ripped through the air with a slicing shriek, a sound so sudden it tore the breath right from his lungs.
He twisted his body instinctively, reacting without thought.
A glint of silver streaked past his cheek.
A dagger embedded itself into the floor with a heavy thud, landing mere inches from his foot.
Vehedyn stared down at it, his mind catching up with reality a heartbeat too late.
"What the hell...?" he breathed, eyes wide, his pupils shrinking.
The blade was narrow and wicked, the kind meant to pierce—not cut.
He leaned down, hand stretching toward it cautiously—
*WHZZZZT!
Another one.
"Shit!" he cursed, throwing himself sideways, diving into a roll that sent a fresh puff of dust swirling around him.
A second blade slammed into the rock he'd just been beside, striking with so much force it cracked the stone clean down the center and sent fragments flying into the air.
He scrambled behind cover—his heart was no longer beating, it was slamming,
*Thump! *Thump! *Thump! *Thump! *Thump!
thunderous in his ears.
That dagger had been no warning. No bluff.
Whoever it was... was aiming to kill.
Then, from somewhere unseen, came a voice—jagged and trembling, but devoid of weakness.
Instead, it carried a darkness, a twisted intent barely restrained beneath the stutter.
"W-W-Why sh-should I w-waste my t-time on a s-slave like y-you?" the voice asked, its rhythm jarring, unstable—but its tone was dead serious, steeped in venom.
"I-I should j-just end th-this now... I w-will kill y-you."
There was no hesitation in those words.
Only resolve.
Vehedyn's instincts flared. There was no time to speak, no time to question.
Just move.
*tap! *tap! *tap!
He bolted from behind the shattered pillar, keeping low to the ground as he sprinted toward another half-fallen wall.
*SKRRRRT!
He slid into cover, back pressed hard against the rough stone, his chest heaving.
His palms stung from hitting the ground too fast, but he didn't dare move again just yet.
"HEY!" he shouted back, trying to keep his voice from cracking.
"Does Merilyn even know you're trying to kill her student!? Are you insane!?"
The voice returned, now laced with bitter amusement.
"O-Of c-course she doesn't," it sneered.
"W-Why w-would I t-tell her that? T-This'll b-be our little s-secret."
The voice shifted.
Not just in tone, but in location.
Now it came from above.
Then from the far left.
Then behind.
There was no source—only presence.
The words rebounded off the walls, crawling across the air like ghosts.
"L-Let's j-just s-say... you d-died in a-an u-unfortunate accident," it laughed darkly, echoing all around him, the words twisting in the shadows.
*WHZZZZT!
Another blade.
Vehedyn didn't see it, only heard the scream of air as it sliced toward him.
He dropped instantly, body hugging the ground.
*THUNK!
The dagger struck the wall just beside his head—burying itself halfway into the stone, a cloud of powdered dust raining down onto his shoulders.
Vehedyn froze.
Had he moved a fraction slower, it would've split his skull.
"SHIT!" he yelled, panic finally shattering through his voice.
"Shit, shit, SHIT!"
He spun up from the ground and sprinted, boots stumbling across fractured stone.
The broken floor sent shocks of pain through his knees, but he didn't stop.
Nothing else mattered now.
Survive.
Survive.
"This guy's not playing around!" he shouted into the empty ruin, his voice barely coherent between gasps for breath.
"He's really trying to kill me!"
And then—
he heard it.
Laughter.
Not joyful, not even amused.
It was hollow.
Broken.
The sound of a man cracking at the edges.
"H-Hahah... w-where do y-you think y-you're g-going, kid?"
Vehedyn glanced back—and nearly tripped.
The figure behind him moved like liquid shadow, leaping across crumbled stone and shattered pillars with terrifying grace.
His coat billowed behind him like a phantom's wings, flaring with every inhuman movement.
Vehedyn couldn't see his full face—only pieces of it.
But the eyes glowed.
And they were locked on him.
A shadow in human shape.
"T-The s-shadows... are m-my w-world!" the voice cried, now impossibly close.
It was everywhere at once, as though the ruin itself had turned against Vehedyn.
*WHZZZZT!
Another dagger sliced through the air—
this one closer.
*FWHIP!
Vehedyn ducked, slid beneath a collapsed archway, and felt the dagger carve through the air above his scalp.
It struck the stone beside him with a crack loud enough to make his ears ring.
His lungs screamed for air.
His legs burned.
His ribs felt like they might cave in.
He couldn't keep this up.
He wouldn't make it.
Not like this.
If I stop—I die.
If I slow down—I die.
But he couldn't just run.
Not forever.
He had to change the game.
"Think, Verhedyn. THINK!" he roared inwardly, desperation clawing at his throat.
And then, an answer came to him.
The one thing he hadn't used.
His Eidra.
He dove behind a chunk of fallen ceiling
*Thud!
and slammed his back to it, chest rising and falling like waves in a storm.
He closed his eyes, even as the darkness around him swirled with threat.
Focus.
Focus.
Remember what Merilyn taught.
His thoughts became still.
He reached inside—not physically, but spiritually, mentally, inwardly.
And there it was.
Cold.
Silent.
Still.
Like ice sitting untouched at the bottom of a deep, dark well.
He pulled.
And it responded.
The cold crawled into his chest first—then up his spine.
His hands trembled, not from fear, but from the sudden jolt of frost racing into his veins.
His breath fogged.
His eyes dilated.
Blue crystals began to spread across his skin—first at the fingertips, then spiraling up his forearms and shoulders in jagged, icy veins.
The air around him dropped in temperature, and a faint mist began to rise from the floor.
The pain in his body dulled.
The panic in his chest vanished.
In its place, there was only clarity.
Cold, perfect clarity.
He stood.
The ice spread further—forming subtle shards along his back like armor.
And then, the voice returned, now more curious than mocking.
"W-Well… w-well… w-well…"
It paused.
The giddiness returned.
"This… should be interesting."
The man then revealed himself from the shadows, crimson hair falling from beneath his hood.
"N-Now T-T-The training s-starts f-for real—b-boy!"