The memory came to Koby in fragments at first—warm sunlight, the smell of grass, the distant sound of wooden swords clashing.
It was during one of his training sessions with Rowan. He and Rowan were sparring in the valley they used to train, the same grassy field where Koby had learned to manage his broken pathways, where he had fallen more times than he could count. The sun was high, casting short shadows, and the air smelled of crushed grass and dust.
In the corner of the field, Kai and Axle were sparring, their wooden weapons clacking in a rhythmic staccato. James sat under the shade of a gnarled tree, resting, his back against the trunk and his eyes half-closed.
Rowan swung his wooden sword at Koby—a diagonal cut, fast but controlled. Koby dodged, following Rowan's movements, his feet finding the right angles. Rowan went for another lunge. Koby weaved, came close, and slashed at Rowan with his hatchets.
Bending his head low, Rowan twirled out of the way with a calm grace that made the movement look effortless. He pointed his sword at Koby's neck. The tip rested there, steady as stone.
"You're getting better at managing the little aura flow in your body," Rowan said.
Koby lowered his hatchets, his jaw tight. "Not good enough to still do anything to you."
"Don't use me as a gauge for your abilities." Rowan stepped back, lowering his sword. "My skills far surpass yours. It would take you a lifetime to reach my level if you keep comparing."
Koby's eyebrows crossed in annoyance and frustration. "Then what's the point of me training?"
"Because I'm not always going to be there to protect you." Rowan's voice was flat, matter-of-fact. "You need to learn to survive on your own."
"What if I meet someone just as strong as you?"
"Then you run." Rowan said it with all seriousness. No hesitation. No shame.
Koby's expression flattened. "Well, that helps."
"But..." Rowan paused, his eyes distant for a moment. "If you have something to protect, then you fight. When I said it would take a lifetime to reach my level, what I meant is with your current disability." He placed a hand on Koby's shoulder, the weight of it warm and firm. "Nyxoria is filled with many mysteries. And a lot of people have been able to make use of those mysteries to their advantage." He paused again, as if weighing his next words. "Who knows? Maybe one of those mysteries may help you. Perhaps it already is."
Koby's curiosity sharpened. "What do you mean?"
Rowan's hand fell from his shoulder. He glanced toward Kai and Axle, still sparring in the distance, then back at Koby. "I hadn't wanted to tell you, but I've been having a hunch of late. Something is coming." He let the words hang. "Your pathways are very unique."
That statement only served to confuse Koby more.
"Unique bad or unique good?"
"That question is a bit complex." Rowan turned to face him fully. "What I do know is that people with their pathways in the same state as yours cannot use a lick of aura. But you're still somehow able to."
Koby frowned. "Isn't that a good thing?"
"It would be. But there were traces of dark energy in your body." Rowan's voice dropped, quieter now. "From what I gathered, you were possessed by something."
Koby felt his chest tighten. He looked away, trying to deflect. "That sounds bad."
"It is. Dark energy is an abomination of nature." Rowan's gaze held him in place. "So promise me this. If you ever feel you're weak and needing strength, do not fall on dark energy if you somehow gained a way to access it. Dark energy corrupts and leaves destruction in its wake."
Koby's mind drifted to the entity in the void. To its glowing eyes. Its crescent smile. Its offer.
"How bad could it be, if it helps me?" he asked.
"No matter what good you plan to do using dark energy, it always comes with dire consequences." Rowan's voice was hard now, unyielding. "So be sure not to use it."
"But—"
"Just do as I say." Rowan stepped closer, his grey eyes steady. "Trust me. You do not want to go down that path."
Koby looked past Rowan, toward Kai and Axle training in the sun, toward James resting under the tree. They looked peaceful. Safe.
"I won't," Koby said.
The sentence echoed as the memory faded into nothingness.
Koby slipped back into that dark place—the void, endless and cold, with no floor and no ceiling and no light except what came from within. He was shaken. Terribly. The choice now sat in front of him like a blade across his throat.
Die. Or let the possible futures of his friends become real.
Or call on the dark entity and break his promise to Rowan.
He took a deep breath. The void offered no air, but the habit was human. He sighed.
I can't let them die. Whatever the consequences.
The thought flew through his head, primal and determined.
"Where are you?!" Koby shouted into the void, his voice echoing into infinity.
For a moment, nothing.
Then the voice came—deep, ancient, layered with echoes that seemed to come from everywhere at once. "Finally. Took you long enough to make a decision."
The eyes appeared first. Two points of light, glowing like embers in the darkness. Then the mouth—a wide, crescent smile that stretched too far, filled with teeth that caught light that didn't exist.
Koby's throat tightened. "What if I had chosen death?"
The entity's smile widened. "I wouldn't let you die. You're stuck with my path. You have no other choice in the matter."
Koby took a gulp. His hands trembled at his sides. But he didn't look away.
He stretched out his arms.
"I don't want to die. Help me. Please."
The entity's eyes glowed brighter. "Let us begin."
Darkness swallowed Koby whole.
"What are you doing here?"
The voice came from behind her. Aries came to a halt, her heart hammering in her chest. She took a deep breath, steeled herself, and turned.
No one was there.
For a moment, she wondered if she had imagined it. The hallway was empty—just shadows, torchlight, and the distant murmur of voices from somewhere deeper in the guild.
Then he was right in front of her.
As if he had appeared out of thin air.
Aries's breath caught. Her eyes swept over him—long, smooth black hair pulled back from his face, sharp cheekbones, and eyes the color of emeralds, bright and assessing. A thin scar ran from his forehead, down over his left eyelid, and onto his cheek. His clothes screamed nobility—dark fabrics, silver embroidery, a brooch pinned to his collar that caught the torchlight.
His presence was graceful, almost lazy, like a cat who knew it was being watched and didn't care.
He had to be the guild master. Lysander Blackwood.
"Are you new here?" Lysander asked. His voice was smooth, unhurried.
Aries thought fast. If they discovered who she was, they would throw her out. She wouldn't get help for Raya. Raya would die.
"Yes, sir. I'm new here," she said.
Lysander tilted his head, his emerald eyes sparkling with something that might have been curiosity. "Well, did Eliza tell you that all the guild members should be gathered at a certain place?"
Aries nodded. "She did. I got lost."
"She?" Lysander's eyebrow arched. "Eliza's a man."
Aries felt heat rise to her cheeks. "What? I mean... yeah. My mistake."
Lysander smiled. It wasn't a cruel smile—no contempt, no anger, no worry. Just a plain smile, almost forced, as if he found her amusing rather than threatening.
"You suck at lying, little girl."
Aries's jaw tightened. "What do you mean?"
"You're hurting my intelligence by continuing to play dumb." Lysander's smile didn't waver. "As a guild master, do you think I do not know all my guild members?"
Aries was silent. She had been caught.
"It kinda hurts my feelings, that you would think I'm that gullible." Lysander let out a small laugh—short, dry, without warmth. Then his expression shifted. The smile remained, but his eyes dimmed. "So. What are you doing here?"