I watched the Sanctuary of Torvas shift from stillness into terror.
The demon's hand was wrapped around the High Priest's throat, pinning him against the wall of the strategy chamber. Its elongated shadow-body wavered in the lamplight tall, thin, with limbs too long for mortal eyes to accept, and eyes like jagged white slits burning with cold hatred.
The High Priest clawed at the demon's arm, choking.
"You mortals," the demon hissed, "cling to faith as if it were armor. But you are soft. Breakable."
It lifted him higher.
"You will come with me."
The door burst open.
Kaelar, Blade of Torvas, did not rush in shouting.
He simply appeared.
One breath he was not there.The next breath, he was.
His sword was already in motion, trailing divine embers as it cut through the air toward the demon's neck.
The demon jerked aside just enough.
The blade missed its throat.
But not its arm.
Steel kissed shadow-flesh.
There was a flash of white-hot light
and the demon's hand flew off at the wrist, still clutching the air where the High Priest's throat had been.
The severed limb hit the floor, evaporating into foul-smelling smoke.
The High Priest collapsed, falling hard to his knees, one hand clutching his bruised throat.
The demon shrieked, clutching its bleeding stump, darkness pouring from it like ink.
"You"
Kaelar stepped between them, sword raised, blessing burning bright along its length like liquid fire.
His eyes were locked on the demon, ignoring its words, ignoring its rage.
The demon took a step back, its white eyes flicking across his armor, his stance, his sword.
"You must be the Blade of Torvas," it spat.
Kaelar did not answer.
He didn't need to.
The flame around his blade roared in answer for him.
Behind him, the High Priest coughed, sucking in air, staggering to his feet.
"Kaelar"
"High Priest," Kaelar said, not taking his eyes off the demon, "get out."
The High Priest stared at him, breathing hard.
"If it takes me," Kaelar continued calmly, "you must live. The Sanctuary needs you. The people need you. Torvas needs you."
The demon smiled, lips stretching too wide.
"Yes, run," it purred to the High Priest. "Run, little shepherd. We will always find you."
Kaelar shifted his stance slightly, blade angled toward the demon.
"I said," he repeated, voice low but edged with steel, "get out."
The High Priest looked at him for a long heartbeat.
Then he nodded once.
But he did not flee in silence.
He turned toward the broken doorway and as he reached it, he raised his voice, forcing strength into a throat still raw from strangulation.
"Blades of Torvas!" he shouted.
His words echoed through the nearby corridor, bouncing off stone and steel.
Knights outside turned their heads.
Priests paused, mid-step.
Even Kaelar, poised between demon and man, heard the change in his voice the warmth beneath the urgency, the fire beneath the gentleness.
The High Priest straightened his back, drawing himself up with the authority of a man who had carried a god's name his entire life.
"Listen to me!" he cried.
His voice carried through the corridors, out into the courtyard, into the ears of knights and trainees alike.
"Our city has fallen. Our walls have cracked. Our enemies have descended upon us with demons and corrupted beings from beyond this world."
His tone softened kind, familiar as if he spoke to frightened children around a hearth.
"I know you are afraid."
A few knights looked at each other, startled that he said it aloud.
"I know you have seen things no mortal should see. I know some of you look to the valley and wonder if this is the last dawn you will stand beneath."
His gaze swept the space beyond the doorway, as though he could see every soul in the Sanctuary.
"I will not lie to you," he said. "We face darkness. Not just monsters. Not just fire. But the betrayal of those we thought would stand with us."
His voice hardened.
"But listen to me now. As the one chosen to bear Torvas's name in this age, I swear to you"
His fist clenched over his heart.
"you are not alone."
The trembling in the Sanctuary lessened.
"Every swing of your sword is seen," he said. "Every step you take toward the enemy is counted. Every moment you stand your ground when fear tells you to flee is a flame in this darkness."
His eyes shone with both compassion and fury.
"Torvas does not ask you to be unafraid," he said, voice ringing like a bell. "He asks you to move anyway."
One of the younger knights straightened, breath catching.
Another trainee, who had been shaking, set his jaw.
"You are his blades," the High Priest said, both gentle and blazing. "You are his hands. When you raise your shields to protect the weak, you embody him. When you stand together, you are a wall no darkness can truly break. And if we are to fall today"
He lifted his chin.
"then we will fall as those who gave everything for those who have nothing. That is a life worthy of Torvas. That is a death worthy of remembrance."
His voice lowered, warm as fire on a winter night.
"I am proud of you already."
The knights listening beyond the door swallowed hard, their chests tightening.
Some blinked tears away.
Kaelar's eyes flashed briefly with that same fierce respect.
"Now," the High Priest said quietly, "do what you were born to do."
He turned back to Kaelar.
"Blade," he said, his voice softening again. "Thank you."
Kaelar nodded once, still focused entirely on the demon.
"Go, High Priest."
The High Priest ran.
Not as a coward.
But as a man who knew his survival meant the survival of many.
I watched him disappear down a hidden passage, escorted by a cleric and a knight who had heard his words and now walked straighter than they had before.
When he was gone
Kaelar and the demon were left alone in the shattered council chamber.
The demon flexed its half-regenerated hand, white eyes narrowed.
"You are… irritating," it snarled.
Kaelar lifted his burning blade slightly higher.
"I've been called worse."
The demon's smile stretched thin.
"So be it."
It lunged.
And in that moment, as steel met shadow and fire met darkness
I turned my gaze.
The outcome of their clash would come later.
For now, something else demanded watching.
Dream had just finished sealing what he could of the tear in his realm, and the effort had nearly broken him. In the Dream Realm, he was a cosmic force. But bound in mortal shape on Vvralis, weary from the repairs, he felt the limits of his chosen disguise.
He emerged in the Sanctuary's shadowed hallway Varos once more leaning heavily against the wall.
His body ached.
The world wobbled at the edges.
His connection to the Dream Realm flickered like a candle fighting the wind.
But he moved forward.
He sensed Erias like a faint stardim but still present.
He followed that thread.
He found the boy where Kaelar had left him: crumpled near the wall, bruised, unconscious, still breathing.
Dream's eyes softened.
"You really don't know when to stop," he whispered.
He knelt, slipping an arm under Erias's knees and another behind his shoulders. The boy felt heavy in his arms.
Dream carried him through the corridors, unnoticed amid the chaos as knights ran past towards the sounds of battle.
He brought Erias into his small chamber, laid him gently on the bed, and pulled the blanket over him.
For a brief moment, Dream rested a hand on the boy's forehead.
"You are not ready for what is coming," he murmured. "But I suspect you never asked to be."
His disguise flickered again just for a heartbeat, revealing starlight under skin.
Then he straightened, fingers brushing the doorframe as he stepped back out.
He closed the door quietly behind him.
Whatever happened next, the boy would at least have this chance to rest.
Beyond the Sanctuary walls, the forest shuddered.
The remaining four demons had finally reached the valley. They had kept their distance through the night, waiting for the shapeshifter to complete its mission.
But patience has its limits.
And hatred has none.
The largest of the four snarled.
"We wait no longer," it growled. "Our brother should have returned with the High Priest by now."
Another demon hissed, claws cutting into the earth.
"If he has failed"
"Then we will break this Sanctuary ourselves."
They advanced through the trees, their bodies like moving voids, the light around them swallowed by their presence. Birds fled. Animals hid. Even the wind seemed to grow colder.
The first demon reached the treeline overlooking the Sanctuary and paused.
"So this is Torvas's precious fortress," it said.
Walls of stone and faith loomed before them. Banners of crimson hung proudly even now. Figures of knights could just be seen on the walls, tense and alert.
Another demon grinned.
"It will burn nicely."
They spread out, circling the main gate.
The leader raised one clawed arm.
"Attack."
They charged.
The impact shook the gate.
Wood groaned, ancient hinges wailing in protest.
Knights on the wall staggered.
"Demons!" one shouted. "At the gate!"
"Raise shields!" another cried. "Everyone to your positions!"
The second impact came quickly.
The gate cracked.
Trauma still sat in their bones from the fall of Aramoor but the High Priest's words burned anew within them.
You do not have to be unafraid.You only have to move anyway.
High Knights slammed their shields into place, forming a barrier before the gate. Trainees rushed beside them, faces pale but eyes steeled.
"FOR TORVAS!" someone shouted.
"FOR OUR PEOPLE!" cried another.
The third impact shattered the gate.
Wood exploded inward.
Four demons stormed through, roaring with murderous joy.
The first line of defenders met them head-on.
Steel clanged against unnatural flesh. Shields splintered under claws. Blood sprayed across the stones. Yet the knights did not break.
They pushed back, side by side, formation tight.
Even the trainees who had mocked Erias before now screamed defiance as they thrust their spears, knowing that if they fell here, there would be no second chance.
In the courtyard shadows, Varos Dream watched.
He wanted to step forward.To let the illusion fall.To unleash his power and burn the demons to nothing.
But he couldn't.
Not yet.
The work on the Dream Realm had left him weakened. If he revealed himself now and faltered, the cost would be catastrophic. The traitor would sense his moment of vulnerability. The balance between realms could snap.
So he waited.
He trusted.
He watched the knights of Torvas stand against the storm and whispered a quiet promise to himself:
"If they hold, I will not fail them."
The night roared.
The gate lay broken.
The Sanctuary stood under siege.
Inside, Kaelar and the shadow demon clashed in the guts of the fortress.
Outside, steel met shadow as mortals fought creatures from beyond their understanding.
And in one small room, a boy slept through the sound of war, unaware that his presence had already altered the course of worlds.
I watched it all.
Knowing that this was no longer just a battle.
It was the opening note of a much vaster war.
And none of them not the Blade, not the High Priest, not the worshipper, not even Dream
truly understood how much rested on the boy named Erias.