The dormitory was quiet. Shadows from the dying fire curled along the stone walls, stretching like dark fingers across the floor. Aria Thorne sat on the edge of her bed, tracing the faint rune carved into the wood, restless. Her thoughts spun in endless loops: the Church kneeling to her earlier, her group's success with the rune exercises, the subtle pulse of power still thrumming beneath her skin. Sleep refused her—not with the weight of the day pressing against her chest.
A whisper slid through the darkness.
"Curious… unusually so."
Aria stiffened. Shadows twisted in the corner, dark and fluid, two dim-blue flames sparking where eyes should have been. The Death God had come.
"Who's there?" she asked, steady, though her hand brushed the hilt of her dagger. The shadows moved like smoke, coiling without wind, but the flames remained fixed on her.
"I am here because you think," the voice murmured. Near and distant, it rolled through the room like a storm trapped in stone.
Aria crossed her arms. "Not to me, but to your followers. I need to understand them. Their… choices."
The shadows deepened. "They deviate," he said slowly. "Interpret. Adapt. Make choices I did not foresee. Not disobedience… evolution."
Aria's hands clenched. "So you let them act as they will. Even if it's dangerous? Even if it hurts?"
A faint, almost amused rumble vibrated through the room.
"I observe. I guide. I… tolerate. Even I cannot account for every ripple of consequence."
Her voice sharpened. "And you expect me to just accept that? That I'll follow blindly while others suffer?"
The flames pulsed. "You question me. Most do not."
"Yes," she said firmly. "I survived death once. I will not let anyone suffer because of fear, hope, or manipulation. And I will not follow blindly."
The shadows shifted again, coiling tighter, like ink in water. "Perhaps that is why you endure. Why you were chosen. You measure. You feel. You weigh. Unlike the others."
Aria exhaled slowly. "Then I will measure. I will weigh. I will decide who lives, who dies, and who earns my trust."
A quiet pause. The flames pulsed faintly. Then the shadow leaned closer.
"Very well, Death-Touched. Your path is yours. But beware… even I cannot foresee all consequences of your choices. Some—"
He stopped abruptly, the sentence hanging in the air, unfinished. The shadows recoiled slightly, tense and unreadable.
Aria frowned. "Some what?"
He gave no answer. Only the faint flicker of his blue flames, a reminder that some things would remain unknowable.
Aria's throat tightened. "And you? Who are you, really? Your name? If I'm working with you, I deserve to know."
The shadows darkened. "I am called many things. Titles. Names whispered in fear. Mortals' whispers do not matter."
Aria pressed. "I need to know. I'm risking my life for this."
A pulse of flame and shadow swept the room, deliberate and heavy. "Very well. My true name… is Val'kor, the Ashbringe. But you may call me Val—or Val'kor. Whichever you prefer."
"Val," she said slowly, testing it.
The blue flames flickered, almost approving.
"Remember," he said softly, "names carry weight. Titles inspire fear. But the name you choose… that is power."
Aria drew a deep breath. Thoughts of the Church kneeling earlier, of her allies—Selene, Riven, even Corin—pressed against her chest. She placed a hand over the rune carved in her desk, feeling the faint hum beneath her fingers.
"I will not let anyone suffer because of you… or because of me," she whispered.
A low murmur of shadow and flame, almost inaudible, escaped him.
"Good… that is why you endure. That is why you survive. And perhaps… one day, when the time comes…"
He fell silent, leaving the ominous hint unfinished. The room seemed heavier for it.
Then—soft, deliberate knocks at the dormitory door.
Aria stiffened. "Who's there?"
A familiar voice whispered through the thick wooden door. "Aria… are you awake?"
Her pulse quickened. It was Selene.
Aria's eyes narrowed. "What do you want? It's late."
"I… thought you might need company," Selene said cautiously. "Or—someone to check on you."
The shadow in the corner shifted, flames flickering. Val's voice echoed softly, almost amused: "Do you trust her?"
Aria's hands clenched the rune. "I—yes. But… she doesn't need to see this."
"Then guard your secret as carefully as your life," he murmured, retreating into the shadows at the edge of the room.
Aria moved to the door, whispering through it, "Selene… you shouldn't come in. Not yet."
"I won't," Selene replied softly, her words like a thread in the dark. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."
Aria leaned against the door, exhaling. The encounter reminded her that even among friends, secrecy would always be necessary—especially with Val watching, always present, always questioning.
The flames dimmed, shadows receding entirely. The volcano's distant groan drifted through the night. Aria Thorne, Death-Touched, sat in quiet resolve. Some truths would remain hidden… even from her closest allies. This night, like the one before, was only the beginning