Gareth wakes up disoriented, his body aching from whatever happened in the .
Garric is nearby, tending to him with a gruff but concerned demeanor.
Her daughter Aelina beside's him,tending to the young man's wound. "What happened",
Aelina asked worriedly.
Gareth's lips twitched into something halfway between a smirk and a grimace.
"Depends," he muttered. "Do you want the short story or the one that'll keep you up at night?"
Aelina's eyes narrowed. "The truth."
For a moment, he said nothing, staring at the ceiling as if the answer might be carved there.
His body ached like he'd been trampled by a caravan, but it was the chill in his chest — the memory of cold eyes in the shadows — that unsettled him most.
Finally, he exhaled, a sound heavy with more than just exhaustion.
"Well we were fighting the Roath Drogen for the mission but after I killed it, It somehow came back stronger. "Do you perhap's know what might have caused it".
Garric's hands froze mid-wrap, his expression darkening.
Aelina glanced at her father, then back at Gareth. "That shouldn't be possible," she murmured. "Once a Drogen falls, it stays dead."
Garric didn't answer right away, but when he finally spoke, his voice was grim.
"Unless something — or someone — wanted it to rise again."
The old warrior said nothing at first, but the faint tremor in his scarred hands betrayed him.
Garric's eyes narrowed. "I've seen this before… once, long ago." His voice dropped lower, almost as if speaking the memory aloud would wake something. "Back in the Bloodfall War, a beast I'd slain rose again faster, hungrier."
"We thought it was just foul magic, but the old scholars spoke of The Hollowed Cycle… a curse older than the Warding Treaty. They said it was how the great beasts of the world endured extinction by dying only to return in a stronger form."
He tied the bandage tighter on Gareth's arm. "If that Drogen has fallen into the Cycle… you didn't kill it. You only woke it up."
Garric's voice dropped to a near whisper.
"That wasn't just the Drogen coming back, it's all the monster's … and they'll all be coming for you."
Gareth blinked. "For me?"
Garric's gaze locked on the pale, jagged ring etched into Gareth's skin. "That mark… I've seen its like only once before. It calls to things that should never walk this world. Beasts feel it — like blood in the water. They'll come for you, again and again, until either you're dead… or they are."
Aelina's hand froze mid-bandage. "Then… it's true."
"What is?" Gareth demanded.
Garric's jaw tightened. "The old tales speak of the Summoned One… the soul marked by the Shattered Throne. A hunter so cursed that even the mightiest predators bow to kill him. They called him…" Garric hesitated, as though the name itself might bring doom.
""The Sun's Pallbearer."
The fire crackled between them, and for a moment, Gareth swore he heard something… breathing… just beyond the walls.
Gareth didn't laugh this time. He didn't crack a joke.
He just sat there, elbows on his knees, staring at the ceiling as if trying to read the future in its colour.
"The Sun's Pallbearer…" he murmured, slow and deliberate. "Guess that's one hell of a job description."
But his voice had changed no longer lazy or flippant. There was weight in it now.
The breathing came again deep, steady, closer.
Gareth's gaze flicked toward the sound, sharp and unblinking.
"I've run from things before," he said, mostly to himself. "But if that's what's waiting for me… I'm not running."
He rose to his feet with a fluid motion, one hand on the hilt of his dagger, eyes scanning the shadows.
Garric's brow furrowed. "You think you can face it already?"
"No," Gareth replied, a faint, dangerous smile crossing his face. "But I think it's been following me long enough. Time we met properly."
The crimson-red eyes melted into the night, leaving only the whisper of their presence behind.
Gareth came to with a sharp inhale, the heaviness in his chest slowly easing. He pushed himself to his feet. The walls felt too close, the air too stale. A walk — that's what he needed. Something to clear the storm in his head.
The city streets were alive, humming with voices and footsteps. Lantern light spilled over cobblestones, mingling with the scent of spiced food and salt carried on the breeze.
Down by the seaside, hundreds of boats swayed gently, their masts like dark needles stitching the horizon to the sky. Above, the moon poured silver across the waves, breaking them into shards of light.
For the first time in what felt like days, Gareth let his shoulders drop. His heartbeat slowed. In that fragile slice of night, the world didn't ask anything of him — and he was content to give nothing in return.
"Aurensport..." Gareth murmured, his voice barely audible over the lively clamor of the harbor. The vast sea stretched out before him, dotted with hundreds of vessels — from humble fishing boats with peeling paint to massive merchant galleons draped in colorful sails, their hulls creaking under the weight of precious cargo.
The salty breeze carried the sharp scent of brine mixed with woodsmoke and spices.
He twisted and turned through winding, narrow streets paved unevenly with cobblestones worn smooth by countless footsteps.
Market stalls overflowed with exotic wares:bundles of saffron and cinnamon, glistening fish fresh from the morning catch, woven tapestries dyed in deep indigos and fiery reds, and jars filled with strange glowing liquids that hummed softly when touched.
The air buzzed with voices — bartering merchants shouting prices, sailors boasting of their travels, street performers juggling flaming torches to the delight of wide-eyed children. A group of robed figures gathered near a dark alley, their whispered conversations punctuated by quick glances around, hinting at secrets better left unsaid.
Gareth paused beside a stall where a weather-beaten old woman sold sweet honey cakes. As he reached for one, she smiled knowingly, her eyes gleaming with unspoken wisdom. "Not many strangers wander these parts." She glanced briefly at the faint scar on his wrist.
A chill ran down Gareth's spine, but he forced a smile and nodded. The old woman turned her attention back to her pastries, murmuring, "Watch the harbor at night. The sea's been restless lately. Strange lights flicker near the old lighthouse — the one abandoned after the great storm decades ago. They say it's cursed, haunted by the souls of drowned traders, and worse..."
Her words were swallowed by a sudden shout from across the street. Two masked men darted out from a shadowed doorway, exchanging a small, glittering object — a gem, a vial, or perhaps something darker — before slipping seamlessly into the crowd. Gareth caught a glimpse of their eyes, cold and calculating.
He swallowed hard, realizing this city was a tapestry of danger woven tightly with opportunity.
Ahead, the imposing silhouette of the Gilded Kraken Tavern beckoned. Its wooden sign creaked in the wind, carved with the shape of a monstrous sea creature. Inside, sailors and mercenaries exchanged tales thick with superstition and half-truths, their voices low but intense. Gareth's heart raced with the promise of knowledge and the threat of betrayal.
Further along, an inconspicuous spice shop masked the entrance to the Market of Veils — Aurensport's secret black market. Here, forbidden magic artifacts and contraband changed hands under flickering lantern light. Rumors whispered that the guild operating this market controlled much of the kingdom's underground power.
As dusk deepened, lanterns with colored glass lit the streets with a warm, eerie glow. Shadows lengthened, and the harbor's chatter softened, replaced by an undercurrent of watchful silence.
Gareth looked up at the ancient, crumbling Old Lighthouse on the cliff's edge. Its cracked stones seemed to absorb the moonlight, casting long shadows over the restless waves below. For a moment, he thought he saw a flicker of movement — a pale, ghostly light drifting near its summit.
His skin prickled.
Aurensport was beautiful. Aurensport was alive. But Aurensport was dangerous.
And somewhere beneath its charm lurked the dark pulse of the kingdom's greatest secrets — secrets tied to the Shattered Throne, the Veilbound Root, and the terrible fate that marked him.
Gareth stepped into Garric's mansion, exhaustion weighing heavily on his shoulders. The warmth of the heart did little to soothe the cold knot twisting in his stomach.
No sooner had he settled in than Garric's voice cut through the quiet.
"We can't keep you here, Gareth. Not with that mark."
Gareth's eyes shot up, confusion mixed with growing dread.
"Sent away? Why now?"
Garric's gaze hardened. "The longer you stay, the more danger you bring to this place and to those I care about."
Before Gareth could protest, Aelina appeared, her expression conflicted yet resolute.
"You have to leave. But this isn't a punishment. It's protection… for all of us."
The weight of the Shattered Throne's curse pressed down harder than ever.
Gareth's journey was far from over — and the world outside the mansion's walls was about to grow far more dangerous.
"But why plus this curse attracts dangerous monster's why hasn't it started yet why aren't there any monster's yet."
Garric exchanged a glance with Aelina before answering, his voice low and serious. "The curse isn't constant. It's bound to the eclipses — celestial events that happen only six times in a lifetime. Each eclipse weakens the veil between worlds and strengthens the mark's power."
Aelina nodded, adding softly, "Until the first eclipse, the mark is dormant — like a seed waiting for rain. The monsters won't come until the curse truly awakens."
Gareth's gaze darkened. "So… I've got some time?"
Garric's eyes hardened. "Time, yes. But not much. And once the eclipses start, there's no turning back."
A chill crept through the room as the weight of those words settled over them.
Gareth's shoulders sagged, the weight of their words crashing down on him like a tidal wave. He swallowed hard, voice barely above a whisper.
"So… I have this… curse. Monsters hunting me. And only six eclipses to prepare? What if I'm not ready? What if I'm just… not strong enough?"
He clenched his fists, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. "I'm no hero. I'm not some legendary warrior. I'm just… me. A guy who fell from the sky with no clue where he belongs."
For a moment, the bravado faded, leaving raw uncertainty. Then, with a shaky breath, he looked up, eyes fierce but tired.
"But if this is my life now, I'll fight. Not because I want to be a hero… but because I want to live. I want to protect those who care about me even if I'm scared out of my mind."
Aelina stepped closer, her gaze softening. "That's real strength, Gareth. Not power or magic it's the heart to keep going, even when everything's against you."
Garric gave a rare nod of approval. "You might just survive this after all."
Gareth's eyes flashed with hurt and anger, voice trembling yet sharp.
"But you… you lied to me. You said it was just a mark that attracts monster's. Now you tell me it's a curse. What will happen will this curse last a lifetime.How am I supposed to trust anything you say after that?"
He stood up, fists clenched tight, every muscle taut with frustration.
The room grew heavy with silence. Aelina looked away, guilt flickering in her eyes. Garric's jaw tightened, but he didn't speak.
After a long pause, Gareth's voice softened, cracks showing beneath his tough exterior.
"I don't know if I can believe in any of this anymore. But if I'm doomed, then I'll face it on my own terms. No more lies."
Garric's eyes darkened, but his voice was steady, almost regretful.
"We didn't lie, Gareth. We told you what we knew. The truth… the full truth is something even we fear to speak aloud."
He took a slow breath, stepping closer.
"This mark—it's a burden, yes. But it's also a sign. A warning. If we had told you everything at once, you might've broken under it."
Aelina met Gareth's gaze, her own eyes shining with quiet resolve.
"We wanted to protect you—from the weight of the curse, from despair. It's not betrayal. It's survival."
She reached out, gently touching his arm.
"We're with you, Gareth. Even if the path is dark, you don't have to walk it alone."
Garric, with a heavy heart, tells Gareth:
Garric's voice was low, rough with regret.
"Gareth… you can't stay here. The danger that follows you—it's bigger than any of us. If you linger, you put everyone around you at risk."
Aelina's eyes were glossy, her fingers twisting nervously at the hem of her sleeve.
"We want to protect you. But sometimes, protection means letting go."
Gareth's chest tightened. The warmth of the home he'd begun to trust felt like it was slipping through his fingers.
"So this is goodbye?" His voice barely held steady.
Garric nodded slowly.
"It's not goodbye forever. Just… for now."
Aelina stepped closer, her smile trembling but genuine.
"You're stronger than you know, Gareth. This isn't the end of your story."
Gareth shook his head, his voice firm despite the ache in his chest.
"No. I'm not leaving. Not like this. I'm staying—no matter what."
Her eyes darkened, a sudden chill settling over the room. She raised a hand, fingers weaving through the air.
A sharp gust of wind knocked Gareth back, stumbling against the doorframe.
"Foolish boy," she said coldly, stepping toward him like a predator closing in.
"You think you can defy fate? The 'Bearer of the Dying Sun' doesn't get to choose his path."
A cruel smile curled on her lips.
"Stay here, and you'll drag us all into darkness. Run, or I'll make sure you don't live to regret it."
Her voice dropped to a whisper, mocking and sharp.
"Remember your name, Gareth—the Sun's Pallbearer. The one who carries death wherever he goes."
Just as Gareth hit the ground, the air above the mansion shimmered.
Garric's voice thundered through the night.
"Enough, Aelina!"
A fiery glow ignited in Garric's palm. He raised his hand, and from the sky, a blazing asteroid hurtled toward the mansion.
The ground trembled beneath Gareth's feet.
But before the flaming rock could crash, Garric clapped his hands lightly.
The asteroid disintegrated into a burst of shimmering dust, harmlessly scattering into the night air.
Garric's eyes locked onto Gareth.
"This is your last warning, Gareth. Stay away, or next time I won't hold back."
Aelina's smirk deepened as she whispered,
"Sun's Pallbearer, remember your place."
As Garric disintegrated the asteroid, his eyes darkened with memories.
"This curse... I've seen what it does. I lost my brother to it—just like I might lose you if you don't learn control."
His voice softened for a fleeting moment, revealing a rare crack in his stern mask.
"But there's no room for weakness. You're stronger than you realize, Gareth. I'll help you, but don't mistake my warnings for hate."
He turned away briefly, jaw clenched, then faced Gareth again.
"This world breaks those who can't adapt. I won't let you be one of them. But if you cross the line, I won't hesitate. Remember that."
Gareth swallowed hard, the weight of Garric's words settling deep in his chest. The cold edge of reality was sharper than ever.
"I won't cross the line," Gareth said quietly, though uncertainty flickered behind his eyes. "I'll prove I'm not weak."
Garric gave a curt nod, then turned toward the door.
"Good. Because out there, it's not just the monsters you have to fear."
The flicker of fading stars outside was swallowed by an approaching storm, the distant rumble echoing like a warning.
Gareth stood alone in the silent room, the shattered throne's mark burning faintly beneath his skin.
The real fight had only just begun.
Gareth urged his horse forward, the crisp morning air stinging his lungs as Aurensport faded behind him. Garric's warning echoed in his mind — strength, control, survival. He clenched his fists, resolve hardening beneath the weight of the unseen curse etched into his skin.
The winding road stretched ahead, flanked by dense forests and rolling hills bathed in golden sunlight. For a moment, a rare sense of freedom bloomed within him — a chance to prove himself without chains or shadows looming.
But that hope was short-lived.
Without warning, a streak of light sliced through the trees, faster than any arrow or beast.
Before Gareth could react, a dozen shimmering blades encircled him, their movements blurring like streaks of sunfire.
The Sun Blades.
Legends whispered of their deadly precision and lightning-fast strikes — warriors sworn to protect the kingdom's secrets with lethal grace.
Horse rearing, Gareth barely kept his balance as powerful hands yanked him from the saddle.
"Caught in the act, Sun's Pallbearer," a cold voice hissed.
Bound and disarmed, Gareth's heart thundered in his chest. The road ahead had darkened — and this was only the beginning.