CHAPTER 5 — Shadows Closing In
The sun barely rose before Eyron was awake.
The village remained quiet, unnaturally quiet, as if the world itself were holding its breath.
He sat under the oak tree behind their home, Analyse flickering faintly in his mind like a heartbeat.
LV.2 now, it pulsed with knowledge, patterns, threats, and intentions—far beyond what he had imagined.
He closed his eyes, letting it guide him.
---
Patterns in the Village
Analyse swept over Ravel Village, subtle yet precise:
The baker's son avoided his gaze today, nerves sharp, guilt like a low hum.
A wandering merchant, cloaked in gray, lingered too long at the edge of town—he was listening, taking note.
Even the blacksmith's hammer strikes had an uneven rhythm—anxiety.
Every action was a thread. Every thread a piece of information he could use.
Every human could be predicted, controlled, or ignored.
And yet, the bigger threats—the divine watchers—were different.
Analyse could sense them.
But unlike humans, they were layered. Hidden behind multiple intentions, multiple motives, a veil of power.
A pulse ran through the village. Faint.
Not natural.
Not human.
The angels were closer than ever.
---
Family Meeting
Eyron entered the house. The twins ran to him, excited as ever.
"Brother! Did you see the merchant?" one squealed.
He smiled faintly. "Yes. But don't worry. Nothing you need to fear."
Arian and Sera followed, tense. They had begun noticing the shifts, subtle and uncanny, in Eyron's gaze, his calm composure, his little manipulations over the villagers.
The parents sat silently, uneasy.
Finally, his mother spoke.
"Eyron… there's something you need to know," she began, voice low and trembling.
"We've been running… from angels. Powerful ones. Ones who… enforce debts of blood. They… they're coming."
Analyse flared.
[Mother: Fear, desperation, protective urgency]
[Father: Resigned, wary, urgent caution]
Eyron's eyes, cold and sharp, scanned them both.
Every truth, every hidden omission, every fear—they were all visible now.
"They're hunting us?" he asked quietly.
"Yes," his father said, voice breaking slightly. "Because of your eldest brother… and because of our bloodline. We fled when you were born, to protect you all. But they… they are relentless."
Eyron tilted his head.
A smile tugged faintly at the corner of his lips.
Good. Fear. Knowledge. Awareness.
The first step was always understanding the enemy.
---
Training in Secret
That afternoon, Eyron walked the edges of the village alone.
Analyse guided him. Each villager, each passerby, each animal's movement—it was a lesson.
He practiced subtle manipulations:
Making a merchant reveal the contents of his satchel without asking.
Predicting the blacksmith's exact timing to strike a nail, then redirecting a cart with just a glance.
Observing the twins from a distance, noticing which toys made them happiest, which made them cling to him more tightly.
Every small action honed his mind, his strategic senses, his emotional reading.
It wasn't play.
It was preparation.
---
A Test of Loyalty
By nightfall, he gathered his siblings quietly in the attic.
"You all need to trust me," he said.
"Everything you've learned about me, every instinct you have, every skill you might think you don't have… we will need all of it. Together."
Arian nodded, fists tight.
"I follow you, Eyron. Always."
Sera's eyes glimmered, fierce.
"We will protect you, no matter what."
The twins clung to him silently, small but fierce in their devotion.
Analyse highlighted their emotions: absolute loyalty.
Perfect. This would be useful. Very useful.
---
The First Signs of Royal Interest
Late that night, a messenger from the capital appeared at the village outskirts, unseen.
Analyse detected him immediately:
Cloaked.
Riding a black steed.
Bearing the royal seal.
Intent: Locate and report the runaways.
Eyron's mind raced.
If the messenger reached his parents… the angels wouldn't even need to step into the village.
The king's men would be enough to drag them into danger.
He watched the shadows, silent, calculating.
A plan formed: subtle manipulation.
Delay the messenger.
Send false signs of direction.
Use villagers as unwitting decoys.
It was all a game to him now. A chessboard stretched before him, with pieces both human and divine.
Analyse flared again.
[Unknown Entity Detected: Angelic Observer?]
[Proximity: Moderate]
[Intent: Observing family movements / threat evaluation]
Eyron's lips curled into a smile.
> They're getting closer.
Good. The board is set. And I will always move first.
---
The Night Before the First Strike
As the family slept, Eyron sat beneath the oak tree again.
The moonlight carved silver lines across his face.
He thought of the angels, the uncle, the capital, the hidden threats lurking in every corner.
And he thought of himself.
A boy no one believed could lead, no one thought could survive.
But he had Analyse.
He had strategy.
And he had the unwavering loyalty of his siblings.
Eyes glinting with cold determination, he whispered to the wind:
"I will not fail.
They will not touch you.
And I… will rise."
The shadows above stirred. Wings barely visible in the distance, a faint pulse of power brushing against the earth.
But Eyron didn't flinch.
He had already begun to see the threads of fate.
And soon… he would start cutting them.