The pain in Violet's palm did not fade when the ritual ended.
Even after the runes vanished and the blood oath was sealed, a dull ache lingered beneath her skin—deep, steady, and strangely grounding. It pulsed in rhythm with her heartbeat, as if reminding her of something irreversible.
She had chosen this.
Eryx Hollowmark turned away first.
"Nyssara," he said calmly, already moving toward the exit,
"see to it that she receives her mark and clearance."
Nyssara inclined her head.
"As you command."
Kael stretched his arms with an exaggerated yawn.
"Well, that was dramatic as hell. I'm starving."
Eryx did not respond.
The massive doors of the main hall opened for him without a sound, and he vanished beyond them—leaving Violet behind with a bleeding hand, a sealed fate, and a thousand unanswered questions.
⸻
Nyssara guided Violet through a narrower corridor branching off from the main hall. Unlike the ceremonial chamber, this passage was plain—stone walls, dim lanterns, and faint sigils carved into the floor.
"These corridors are warded," Nyssara explained as they walked.
"Not to protect us from enemies… but from ourselves."
Violet glanced down at the markings beneath her feet.
"They feel… heavy."
Nyssara smiled faintly.
"Good. That means you're still sane."
They stopped before a circular chamber lit by pale blue flame. At its center stood a stone basin filled with dark liquid that reflected no light.
"This is where your mark is placed," Nyssara said.
Violet stiffened.
"A mark?"
"Not a brand," Nyssara corrected gently.
"A reminder."
She rolled up Violet's sleeve without asking. The scars along Violet's arm were old—some thin, some jagged, all silent.
Nyssara paused for a fraction of a second.
"…You've endured much," she said quietly.
Violet said nothing.
Nyssara dipped her fingers into the basin. The liquid clung to her skin like ink, shifting faintly with inner motion. She traced a small sigil just below Violet's wrist—over a place where no scar existed.
The liquid burned cold.
Violet gasped.
But the pain vanished as quickly as it came.
When Nyssara withdrew her hand, a black emblem remained—subtle, elegant, almost alive. It resembled interlocking blades forming a hollow circle.
"The sign of Hawk Hollows," Nyssara said.
"Only visible to those who know how to look."
Violet stared at it.
"…Does this mean I belong to you now?"
Nyssara shook her head immediately.
"No. It means no one else ever will."
⸻
Later that night, Violet could not sleep.
The house was quiet. Too quiet.
She sat on the edge of her bed, fingers brushing the mark on her wrist. Each time she touched it, that same steady pulse returned—firm, unwavering.
The oath echoed in her mind.
Through good and evil…
I will not flee from truth…
Her thoughts drifted back to Eryx.
His eyes had not softened during the ritual.
Not even when she bled.
A faint trace of resentment stirred inside Violet.
At least now I have a place I can call "home," she thought.
But in return, I'll have to become someone worthy of their trust…
The problem is—how?
The question remained unanswered. Her thoughts slowly blurred, and she drifted into sleep.
⸻
The next morning, Violet awoke more peacefully than she had in days—without the lingering remnants of nightmares.
She dressed, prepared herself, and stepped outside.
In the courtyard, a few children were laughing and playing. Nearby, the bakery seemed to have just finished baking fresh bread—the warm, inviting scent filled the air. It brought a small sense of calm to Violet's chest.
Then—
"Boo!"
A sudden voice rang out beside her. Violet startled, eyes widening as she turned to stare at Kael.
Kael burst into loud laughter.
"Looks like I shouldn't scare you like that, my little bunny."
Violet felt a twinge of annoyance but kept it from showing.
"Kael sir, was there really any need to frighten me like that this early in the morning?" she asked.
Kael shrugged with a grin.
"Eryx sent me to pass along a message."
He cleared his throat and deliberately lowered his voice, mimicking Eryx's cold tone.
"Violet Zereth. You are hereby assigned to Nyssara's reconnaissance unit."
Then he returned to his usual voice.
"I'll be the one teaching you how to fight—and how to survive. Learn as much as you can from Nyssara and me. It seems Eryx has high expectations for you," he added with a teasing tone.
Though Kael spoke in jest, to Violet it sounded heavy—almost exactly like receiving an order directly from Eryx.
As if reading her thoughts, Kael continued,
"Alright, alright. Eryx is strict, sure—but he cares about his people more than anyone."
He leaned closer and whispered near her ear,
"He was actually quite worried about you yesterday. Don't let him know I told you."
He laughed again and stepped away.
Violet felt her cheeks grow warm with embarrassment, but her heart felt a little lighter.
"Come on," Kael said.
"Before training, we eat first. An empty stomach never leads to good results."
He led Violet toward the dining hall.
⸻
Nyssara was already seated in the dining hall.
Seeing them, she smiled gently.
"Violet, dear. I assume you've already heard from Kael."
Violet nodded, her throat tightening just a little. Her eyes held no deception as she spoke from the heart.
Nyssara, Kael… I'm prepared to learn everything you're willing to teach me.
For a brief moment, both Kael and Nyssara paused.
They exchanged a glance—silent, instinctive.
She'll grow strong, they thought at the same time. Without a doubt.
Nyssara smiled softly, warmth filling her voice.
"Of course. We'll be the best teachers you could ask for."
And for the first time since stepping into Hawk Hollows—
Violet felt it.
This wasn't just shelter.
This wasn't just survival.
This was the beginning.
From that day onward, Kael remained much the same—always laughing, always treating danger like a game. Yet with Violet, he was careful.
Because she was a woman—and because the world was cruel to the unprepared—Kael placed a pair of twin daggers into her hands.
"Speed keeps you alive," he told her.
"Strength just decides how fast you die."
He trained her relentlessly in close-quarters combat: how to strike without hesitation, how to slip past armor gaps, how to retreat without panic. Every lesson was built around one principle—survival first, victory second.
Nyssara's teachings were far more dangerous.
As a fellow Dark Elf of the Zereth bloodline, Nyssara taught Violet what only their clan could wield—the forbidden art known as Phantom.
Phantom was not simple invisibility.
It was the art of erasing one's presence—sound, breath, intent. To hunters, to beasts, even to magic itself, the Phantom became nothing. It was a skill invaluable for scouting, infiltration, and survival.
But the price was severe.
Each use placed immense strain upon the body. Muscles screamed. The mind blurred. Prolonged use could collapse the heart itself.
Nyssara warned her every time.
"Phantom will save your life," she said quietly.
"But abuse it, and it will take your life instead."
Alongside it, Nyssara taught Violet healing magic—not the grand miracles of temples, but practical, battlefield healing. Closing wounds, stopping blood loss, forcing the body to keep moving when it should collapse.
For a reconnaissance unit, it was indispensable.
And Violet learned quickly.
Too quickly.
Because she was Zereth.
Nyssara watched her with equal parts pride and unease as Violet absorbed techniques that should have taken years—mastering Phantom's first stages, stabilizing healing spells, and enduring pain without a sound.
The shadows welcomed her.
⸻
Far away—
Beyond Hawk Hollows—
The world was already moving.
In the grand hall of The Kingdom of Aurelion, nobles gathered beneath towering marble pillars. Gold banners lined the walls. Power and arrogance filled the air.
At the head of the chamber sat King Aldric III (10th)—the tenth ruler of Aurelion, his weathered face carved with scars of both war and rule.
He raised one hand.
Silence fell instantly.
With a harsh, commanding voice, he spoke.
"Let us address the most urgent matter."
His cold gaze locked onto a trembling noble.
"Lord Joshua," the king said,
"you swore you would bring prosperity to this kingdom through the acquisition of slaves and resources. And yet—nothing has arrived."
Joshua clasped his hands together, sweat pouring down his face.
"Y-Your Majesty… I beg forgiveness," he stammered.
"I hired the mercenary group known as The Collar Guild. But my scouts report they were all slaughtered—every last one—deep within the Dark Forest."
The chamber erupted in murmurs.
Before they could grow louder, the ruler of the neighboring kingdom slammed his fist against the table.
King Vareth I (9th) of the Vareth Dominion glared with fury.
"You dare ask for forgiveness without understanding your own failure?" he roared.
"Is that your excuse?"
Joshua's face turned deathly pale.
"I-It was… Hawk Hollows," he whispered.
The name rippled through the hall like poison.
King Vareth struck the table again.
"Is there not a single living creature capable of dragging those rats here in chains?" he snarled.
"Whoever brings information will be rewarded handsomely!"
At that moment—
The great doors opened.
A knight stepped inside.
He wore pure white armor, adorned with a golden emblem upon his chest—the insignia of the highest military honor.
A Platinum Knight.
One of his eyes was hidden beneath a black eyepatch. The other burned sharp and cold.
He knelt with perfect form.
"Forgive my intrusion, Your Majesties," he said calmly.
"My name is Arthur."
He raised his head.
"I believe offering a reward is unnecessary. Hawk Hollows is merely a small group."
King Aldric's scarred brow lifted.
"Ah… you must be the newly appointed Platinum Knight," he said.
"Tell me, Arthur—are you confident you can crush this 'small group'?"
Every eye in the chamber turned toward him.
Arthur's visible eye ignited with quiet fury.
"Yes, Your Majesty," he replied without hesitation.
"They are nothing."
The kings exchanged glances.
Then the decree was made.
"Arthur," King Aldric declared,
"By the authority of both kingdoms, you are commanded—at any cost—to capture Hawk Hollows."
Arthur bowed once more.
"As you command."
He turned—and walked out of the chamber.
He believed he was walking the righteous path.
Unaware that the storm of truth had already set its sights on him.