POV - Emilia
El aire en la cueva era denso, y olía a roca húmeda, musgo y algo más... algo rancio, no podía identificarlo.
No estábamos muy adentro.
Los adultos no lo permitirían.
El maestro Garrok había sido claro:
"Permanezcan en el primer anillo del túnel. Los escoltas vigilarán. Que nadie se aleje, ¿está claro?"
"¡Sí, maestro!" respondimos al unísono.
Mientras tanto, él y uno de los exploradores más veteranos del grupo se adentraron un poco más, para buscar pistas, según él.
Los cadetes fuimos conducidos a una zona cerrada al costado de la entrada principal. Era una especie de cripta natural, con columnas rocosas y estalagmitas formando pasillos. Era húmeda, estrecha y oscura. Perfecta para entrenar en lo que Garrok llamaba "combate cuerpo a cuerpo".
"Recuerden", dijo el escolta que nos guiaba.
En terreno abierto, ellos tienen ventaja. Aquí, cada centímetro cuenta. Cualquier ruido puede delatarte. Y cada error... cuesta.
Nos dividieron en pequeños escuadrones de tres para simular una incursión. Pero no era solo un ejercicio. Sabíamos que había criaturas reales allí dentro.
Y no tardaron en aparecer.
Mi equipo era el mismo: Liifa, Kaien y yo.
Pronto, oímos los chillidos.
Goblins.
Pequeños, encorvados, con ojos amarillentos y bocas que chasqueaban como si se rieran histéricamente. Armados con espadas oxidadas, lanzas improvisadas y ropas hechas de cuero y huesos.
«Emilia... vienen por la izquierda», susurró Liifa, preparando una fuerte ráfaga de viento en la palma de la mano.
«Espera a que crucen la columna. Ataquemos juntos», respondí, bajando mi centro de gravedad, espada en mano.
Aparecieron tres goblins. Uno más grande que los demás.
El líder, probablemente.
Saltaron sobre nosotros.
Liifa desvió al primero con su otro elemento, el viento.
Kaien apartó al segundo de una patada, y yo giré rápidamente; mi espada trazó un semicírculo y se clavó directamente en su corazón.
Uno cayó.
Otro gritó.
El tercero huyó, dejando un rastro de sangre verde tras él.
"¡Lo logramos!", dijo Kaien jadeando.
Asentí, pero no me detuve.
Caminé hacia el goblin que había caído. Estaba muerto. Junto a él yacía una pequeña daga curva, bastante tosca... pero tenía extraños símbolos tallados en el mango.
Los recogí con cuidado y los guardé en mi mochila.
"¿Por qué recoges eso?", preguntó Liifa, arqueando una ceja.
"Para Luahn".
"¿...Qué?"
Le gustan estas cosas. Le gusta entender cómo funcionan, de dónde vienen. Además, es algo que le prometí. Es un símbolo de victoria.
Liifa sonrió, pero no dijo nada.
Solo me ayudó a reunir algunas cosas más: un pequeño trozo de armadura de cuero de goblin, algunas cuentas de hueso, incluso una especie de brújula de piedra.
No era nada valioso.
Pero para él... tal vez sí lo sería.
Cuando todos los grupos regresaron, con heridas leves y algunas sonrisas de satisfacción, Garrok ya estaba de vuelta.
Su expresión era diferente.
Parecía... tenso.
«Maestro, ¿ha pasado algo?», preguntó uno de los instructores.
«No estoy seguro...», respondió, mientras nos reunía en semicírculo.
Los adultos hablaban entre ellos en voz baja, pero mi oído, entrenado en casa con mamá, logró captar algo.
«Las linternas... están en buen estado. Y las marcas en la roca no son de goblins».
«¿Crees que son marcas humanas?».
"No exactamente. Parecen patrones... símbolos antiguos. Como si alguien estuviera marcando rutas." "
¿Guías?"
"Sí. Pero no como las que usamos. Ni como las que usan los aventureros humanos, eran otro tipo de señal."
"¿Conducirían a algún lugar?"
"Quizás."
"¿Qué hacemos?"
"No es seguro continuar. No sin más información. No con los cadetes presentes."
"Entonces…"
"Regresamos. Ahora."
No nos dieron todos los detalles, pero comprendimos que había algo extraño en el fondo de esas cuevas. Algo que ni siquiera los adultos podían explicar.
Mientras caminábamos de regreso, ya de noche, con el bosque susurrando a nuestro alrededor, el maestro se nos acercó.
"Cadetes", dijo.
"Hoy cumplieron con su deber. Pero recuerden esto: la misión más importante de un guerrero no es luchar... sino sobrevivir para luchar otro día.
Buen trabajo, ahora regresen a casa, sus familias esperan buenas noticias."
Caminé en silencio, mi mochila más pesada que antes.
Contenía objetos sucios, quizá inútiles...
Pero para mí eran inmensamente valiosos.
Porque cuando se los daba, sonreía.
Y yo también.
*
POV - Luahn
I couldn't stop looking toward the entrance to the city.
The cadets' mission shouldn't take this long, I kept telling myself. It wasn't as if they were fighting demons or in a war... But even so, I couldn't help feeling uneasy.
The sun was setting. The sky was beginning to turn that pale orange color that reminded me of certain afternoons when Emilia and I would run along the stone paths until the moon found us sweaty and laughing.
"You're still standing there."
My mother's soft voice appeared behind me.
"You haven't eaten anything, have you?"
"I'm fine..."
"What are you waiting for?"
"For her to arrive."
There was no need to say her name.
Mom looked at me for a few seconds, then smiled as if she had just understood everything without needing a single word more.
"I'm sure she'll be fine. It's Emilia, remember? No wind can knock her down."
I nodded. But my stomach still hurt from nerves.
And then... I saw her.
Jumping on one of the stone platforms leading to the main square. Her black hair tied back, her tunic still stained with dirt, and a smile so bright that... it hurt my chest.
"LUAAAAAHN!"
I heard her before I saw her fully arrive.
I had barely a second to open my arms before she threw herself into my embrace.
"I'm back!"
"Yes, I can see that," I replied, laughing. "And apparently without a single scratch."
"Of course! Did you doubt me?"
"Maybe... just a little."
She hit me gently on the arm.
"Baka!"
Then she let go and looked at me, a little more seriously.
"It was harder than I thought. There were a lot of goblins. And in the caves... we found something strange."
"Strange... how?"
"Lanterns. Symbols. Marks that weren't human. The master said they didn't look like anything he'd ever seen. And also... footprints. Human footprints."
I fell silent.
"Humans? In Wolf Clan territory?"
"Uh-huh. And without permission. The worst part is that the marks looked like guides... as if someone was following a path."
"Do you have any idea why?"
"I don't know. But the master and the escorts will report it to the Council. I'm sure they'll do something."
There was a moment of pause.
I couldn't stop looking at her.
Healthy, whole. With that sparkle in her eyes.
Suddenly, I realized I was more relieved than I had imagined.
"What's wrong?" she asked me.
"Nothing. Just..."
I swallowed.
"I'm glad you're here. That's all."
She smiled. A small but sincere smile.
"Me too."
Back home, Mom had prepared a golden carrot broth with tender meat and freshly baked bread. Leyla and Fortz came too. Apparently, it was a tradition to celebrate the cadets' first successful mission. Emilia didn't know anything about it, though, and was taken by surprise when we walked in and everyone shouted:
"CONGRATULATIONS, EMILIA!"
"W-what?! Everyone knew except me!?"
"Exactly!" Leyla replied, serving her a generous plate.
"It's an old custom. If you survive your first raid... you celebrate."
"Survive?! How dramatic!"
"Well, those goblins almost ate you, didn't they?" I teased her.
"Not one of them touched me!"
"Oh yeah, right, I'm sure they just tripped and died by accident."
She threw a boiled potato at me. I caught it with my mouth.
Mom laughed.
Fortz laughed too. Even him, who was usually so serious.
Later, as we drank sweet spiced water, Fortz approached me.
"Luahn."
"Yes?"
"Thank you for caring about Emilia."
I didn't know what to say. I scratched my head.
"You don't have to say anything," he added.
"I just wanted you to know."
Next to him, Leyla put her hand on her husband's shoulder.
"This boy is stronger than he looks. And nobler, too."
"I'm here, you know!" I protested.
"We know," Emilia winked at me.
That night, before going to sleep, I sat in front of the window in my room.
I took out one of the small pieces Emilia had brought me from the goblins: a teardrop-shaped stone that glowed faintly with residual magic. It wasn't powerful or useful... but it was beautiful.
This felt very familiar to me, no doubt because of my memories as William. I associated them with different things that I still don't understand, something called games, in books, on television, and other things that I still couldn't make sense of.
I pressed it against my chest.
Because, somehow, I felt that this...
Was the closest I could be to my two worlds.
*
POV - Melhe
The sound of water falling from the stone vessels echoed softly off the circular walls of the High Council. It was the only sound, apart from the hushed breathing. To my right, the elder Belroth closed his eyes in meditation. To my left, Krenwald, as always, with his fingers intertwined in front of his mouth, watched silently.
But I already sensed that something had changed.
The atmosphere was... dense. As if the Hypnos Tree were holding its breath. As if the very leaves of the world were listening tensely to what we were about to hear.
"Captain Garrok has arrived," announced a firm voice from the doorway.
"Let him in," I ordered, without raising my voice much, but with just the right amount of solemnity.
The doors opened, and Garrok walked in with the confidence of a veteran who knows every stone in the council's corridors. Behind him followed Rhask and Darrien, two of his most trusted men. Warriors hardened by decades of service. Warriors who, nevertheless... showed signs of unease.
And that, to me, was already a sign.
"Priestess. Honorable members of the Council," Garrok said with a slight bow.
"I come to give a full report on the training expedition led by my team in the southwestern region of the Silent Forest."
"Proceed," said Krenwald, his voice as sharp as ever.
Garrok began with what we already knew. The initiation ceremony, the formation of cadet groups, the controlled combat exercises, the collection of goblin artifacts. He mentioned the most outstanding young people, especially Emilia.
She was a true prodigy; it was only a matter of time before she would be able to face even adults. He finished his report on how all the groups returned without casualties or serious injuries.
But when he got to the subject of the caves, his tone dropped, almost imperceptibly. I felt it. Like a false note in an old song.
"We entered the caves in sector three... according to the records, a natural network that had been inactive for more than two generations. However, what we found was... unexpected."
"How unexpected?" Belroth asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Lit lanterns. Black iron. Obsidian. Unidentified runes. Light with no visible source. And footprints... many of them. Not from wolves. And not recent."
I sat up straight in my seat.
"Humans?" I asked.
"Yes," Rhask interjected, stepping forward.
"Human footprints, yes. But they were from a group with quite a few members. They don't match the usual marks of human explorers or adventurers on exploration and extermination missions. And there are no registered permits for human activities in that region either."
Darrien then pulled out a carved rock, about the size of a hand, wrapped in dark linen cloth. He placed it in front of me. The others leaned in to see it.
It was black. Its surface was polished, but it had a symbol carved in the center: a spiral with lines crossing outward, as if the center absorbed light. It did not belong to any human alphabet we know, nor to the language of the ancestors.
"This was embedded in the wall," Garrok explained.
"We couldn't extract any more without jeopardizing the structure of the tunnel. But there was more."
I touched the stone with my fingertips.
And something... vibrated inside me.
It wasn't divine power. It wasn't a message from the Goddesses. It was something cruder. Older. A pressure in the center of my chest. An echo. A dull hum that reverberated right at the edge of my spiritual perception.
"Priestess..." said Krenwald, his face now paler, "this isn't demonic... is it?"
"No," I replied confidently, though uneasily. "Nor is it sacred, nor ours, but it is used to hide something."
The murmurs began.
"And what does the goddess think? Has she said anything?" asked Harvion, one of the Eight Wise Elders.
"No. Not directly. But her silence is an answer in itself."
"Do you suggest a raid into the depths of the caves?" asked another advisor.
"Not immediately," I replied.
"I suggest caution first. A second patrol, with spirit guides. Consult the oldest records. And above all, maintain constant vigilance."
"And if it's not human? Not a wolf? What remains?" Krenwald questioned.
I allowed myself a moment of silence before responding.
"I wouldn't know what to tell you, our Goddess, she only told me to let things continue on their path."
The silence was absolute.
Even Garrok lowered his gaze.
"Do you consider it an omen?" whispered another elder.
"Not yet," I said, and touched the stone once more. "But a warning, yes."
That night, I remained alone in the temple.
I placed the stone on a secondary altar, surrounded by circles of salt and white light. I lit incense made from dried roots and recited an ancient prayer, one used to "observe without being seen."
And then, I saw something.
Not a complete vision. Not a prophecy.
Just... footsteps.
Many of them.
Marching.
And in the background, not fire... but fog.
Blood. In the form of mist.
Like in the old stories, the one we only saw as a reddish line on the horizon.
The Blood of Judgment.
My fingers clenched on the edge of the altar.
I knew what this meant.
The first crack... had already opened.
And we... were still praying that it was just a shadow.
But it wasn't.
It was the beginning.
Of the end.