The scent of ash and decay lingered, a phantom presence in the crisp forest air, long after the Lesser Spawn had dissolved into nothingness. Kael remained kneeling for a moment longer, his fingers tracing the scorched earth where the demon had fallen. The ground felt sickly, a faint, unnatural chill seeping into his fingertips despite the lingering warmth of his Ignis. This wasn't just a stray beast; it was a symptom, a festering wound on the world's skin.
He rose, his amber eyes scanning the dense foliage. The Gloomwood, usually his sanctuary, now felt like a veil, thin and fragile, separating him from a burgeoning darkness. He considered his options. Reporting this to the Lumina Imperium was a logical first step, but his Umbra affinity made him wary. The Imperium, with their rigid adherence to Lumen and Anima, viewed shadow magic with suspicion, often equating it with the very corruption he fought. His grandfather, Elias, had always emphasized discretion, especially concerning Kael's unique talents.
"Some truths are best kept in the dark," Elias would often say, a wry smile playing on his lips, a constant source of discomfort to the Lumina elite.
Still, the threat was too close. The nearest Lumina outpost, a fortified watchtower known as the Sunstone Bastion, lay a few hours' journey east, just beyond the Gloomwood's edge. It was a small, isolated garrison, but it was a start. He needed to gauge the Imperium's awareness, to see if this was an isolated incident or part of a larger, more insidious push.
Kael moved with renewed purpose, his steps quick and silent. He avoided the main game trails, preferring the deeper, more shadowed paths where his Umbra allowed him to move unseen, a whisper in the forest. As he ventured further east, the Gloomwood gradually thinned, the trees becoming less gnarled, the canopy allowing more light to filter through. The air grew warmer, the scent of pine and damp earth slowly replacing the lingering stench of corruption.
He was nearing the boundary when he heard them: the sharp, disciplined shouts of Lumina Imperium soldiers. A skirmish. His hand instinctively went to the hilt of the mundane dagger he carried, a simple steel blade that served more as a tool than a weapon, keeping his true abilities hidden.
He melted into the shadows of a thicket, observing. A Lumina patrol, perhaps a dozen strong, was engaged with a small group of Corrupted Fiends. These were more organized than the Lesser Spawn, hunched, vaguely humanoid shapes with elongated limbs and glowing red eyes. They moved with a disturbing agility, their claws leaving trails of black ichor on the forest floor. The Lumina soldiers, clad in gleaming plate armor, fought with practiced precision, their Sun-Forged Blades shimmering with faint Lumen energy. They were skilled, but the corruption seemed to drain their vitality, making their movements sluggish.
"Hold the line, by the Light!" shouted a Centurion, his voice strained as he parried a fiend's clawed strike. "Don't let them flank us!"
Kael watched, a detached analysis already forming in his mind. The soldiers were effective against individual fiends, but they lacked the raw, destructive power to quickly overwhelm the group. Their Lumen magic, while pure, was defensive and purifying, not designed for rapid, widespread eradication of corrupted foes. One of the soldiers, a young recruit, stumbled, a fiend's claw raking across his arm. The wound immediately began to blacken, the corruption spreading rapidly.
They're too slow. The corruption is too fast.
He could intervene directly, but that would mean revealing himself, and his Umbra. The risk was too high. Yet, to do nothing...
A subtle shift in the wind. Kael felt a faint tremor in the earth, a resonance of Primordial Corruption building. Not from the fiends, but from something deeper, something directing them. His eyes narrowed. This wasn't just a random encounter.
Without a sound, Kael extended his hand, channeling a controlled, almost imperceptible pulse of Umbra. He didn't directly attack the fiends, but instead, he focused on the shadows around the struggling Lumina patrol. The shadows deepened, becoming heavier, colder, subtly shifting and elongating. The Corrupted Fiends, creatures of darkness and decay, instinctively recoiled, their movements momentarily faltering as their own corrupted essence clashed with the raw, untamed Umbra.
It was a fraction of a second, but it was enough. The Lumina Centurion, seizing the opportunity, roared and plunged his Sun-Forged Blade into the chest of the fiend that had wounded his recruit. The creature shrieked and disintegrated. The other soldiers, invigorated by the sudden, inexplicable shift in the battle, pressed their attack, their Lumen-infused strikes now finding their marks more easily.
Within minutes, the remaining Corrupted Fiends were reduced to foul mist and ash. The Lumina patrol, though winded and shaken, had prevailed.
"What was that?" the Centurion muttered, looking around with a puzzled frown, a hand on his blade. "A sudden chill... and the shadows seemed to aid us."
Kael, his presence a mere ripple in the gloom, began to turn away, retreating deeper into the thicket to continue his journey unseen. But as he did, a stray patch of moonlight, now unobstructed by the fallen fiends, caught a glimmer of his amber eyes.
"Hold!" a sharp voice commanded. It was the Centurion, his hand still on his blade, his gaze fixed on the spot where Kael had been. "I saw something. A flicker in the brush."
Kael froze. He could retreat, vanishing entirely, but the moment for a clean escape had passed. The soldiers were alert, their senses heightened by the recent battle. Attempting to flee now would only confirm their suspicions. Taking a deep breath, he stepped out of the shadows, his hands held placidly at his sides.
The soldiers immediately tensed, their weapons raised. Kael saw the suspicion in their eyes, the fear of the unknown. "Who are you?" the Centurion demanded, his voice a low growl. "Why were you hiding in the shadows?"
"My name is Kael," he replied calmly, his voice even. "I was just passing through. I heard the commotion and stayed to observe." He kept his Umbra locked down, a part of his mind focusing on maintaining the suppression. Instead, he channeled a small amount of Ignis, causing a tiny, harmless flame to dance on the tip of his finger. The warm, familiar light was a universal sign of a mundane magical affinity, a safe and acceptable power.
The Centurion's glare softened slightly, but he was still cautious. "A fire-wielder? Why were you in the Gloomwood alone? It's no place for a civilian. Where do you stay?"
Just as Kael was about to invent a plausible tale, a younger soldier with a weathered face and a deep scar over his left eyebrow stepped forward, a look of recognition dawning in his eyes. "Centurion, wait," he said, lowering his sword. "I know him. And his grandfather." He looked at Kael, a friendly grin spreading across his face. "Kael, is that you? The boy who used to fish by the old river bend? My name's Marcus. I used to visit the village with my uncle."
Marcus turned to the Centurion. "His grandfather, Elias, is a renowned herb-master. They live on the outskirts of the village, near the old stone well."
The Centurion looked from Kael to Marcus, his expression shifting to one of mild embarrassment. He lowered his blade. "My apologies, boy. The Fiends have us all on edge." He then looked back at Marcus. "How is your grandfather, Elias?" he asked, his tone now respectful.
Kael's stomach tightened. He was relieved they didn't know the full story of his own affinity. He kept his expression neutral. "He is well, thank you," Kael said, answering the unspoken question. "He sends his regards to any Lumina who pass by."
"We're glad to hear it," Marcus said, his smile genuine. "We heard some talk of corrupted beasts being sighted closer to the village. Is that what you were tracking?"
"Something like that," Kael confirmed, keeping his answer vague. He glanced at the soldier's healing arm, the corruption already a fading memory under the Lumina medic's spell. "I'm glad you all made it through the fight."
"Thanks to a strange turn of events," the Centurion muttered to himself. He met Kael's gaze. "Well, Kael, you best be on your way. We will be patrolling the area a little longer. Stay safe."
"Thank you, Centurion. And thank you, Marcus," Kael said, giving a small nod to the soldier who had vouched for him. With that, he turned and resumed his journey eastward, the soldiers' watchful eyes on his back until he was once again enveloped by the deepening foliage.
He was grateful for Marcus, but the encounter had only solidified his fears. The Lumina were good people, dedicated to their cause, but their suspicion of his own dormant powers was a constant threat. He had seen firsthand their effectiveness against the corruption, but also their limitations. The soldiers didn't understand the true nature of the darkness, and the whispers in the gloom were indeed growing louder. He, a wielder of the very shadows they feared, might be the only one who truly saw it.