Morning in the village was never truly quiet—roosters crowed, carts creaked over cobblestones, and the air buzzed with the chatter of traders. But today, a strange tension clung to the wind like mist before a storm.
Elric stood at the edge of the forest, his fingers tracing the mark that had begun to form on his wrist overnight—thin lines like roots, curling inwards into the shape of a serpent. It pulsed faintly with warmth, reacting to sothing only it understood.
Lira watched him from a distance, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. "That's from the Tree, isn't it?"
"Yes," Elric replied. "Or maybe... sothing beneath it. Selene called it a sigil—a seal tied to the Bloodroot Pact."
"You didn't have that before."
"I think I've had it for longer than I know," he said. "It just hadn't awakened."
---
Inside the clinic, Cai was awake and alert, poring over dical diagrams with a focus that bordered on obsessive. Elric noticed the sa shimring energy around him, like a faint halo of sothing old stirring in new blood.
"You're learning fast," Elric said, setting a cup of tea beside him.
"I feel like I already knew so of this," Cai admitted. "I look at your notes and sothing clicks—like rembering a song I forgot I knew."
"That's exactly what this is," Elric murmured. "mory. Not just yours, but inherited—passed through blood. That's what they were experinting with."
Cai looked up. "The council?"
Elric nodded. "They tried to recreate an ancient lineage. And we were part of it."
---
Far away in the capital, the Royal Council was not idle. Morian paced within the strategy hall, banners fluttering gently above him. Across from him, Lady Virella held a report sealed in black wax.
"He's unlocked the sigil," she said quietly.
"How many days until it fully manifests?"
"At most a fortnight. Less if he continues making contact with the Tree."
Morian's brow furrowed. "Then we don't have a fortnight."
Virella placed another sealed letter on the table.
"The Crimson Circle has accepted the contract. Their blade has already been dispatched."
Morian's eyes closed for a mont. "A sha. He could've been an asset."
---
Back in the village, Elric sat across from Selene in the clinic's basent, which he'd converted into a private study. The stone walls, once damp and crumbling, now glowed faintly with runes drawn in crimson chalk.
"You knew this would happen," he said to her.
Selene nodded, her silver hair falling over one shoulder. "The Tree only awakens for those with its blood. The pact binds your life to its roots."
"What does that an for ?"
"It ans the kingdom will fear you. But those in the shadows... they'll want to use you. Or kill you."
"Is there a third option?" Elric asked.
"Yes," Selene said, reaching into her cloak and handing him a cloth-wrapped bundle.
He unwrapped it carefully. Inside was a dagger—not ornate, but etched with the sa serpent-root sigil now on his wrist.
"This is your key," Selene said. "To the ruins. To your past. To what lies beyond the veil of dicine and magic."
Elric gripped the hilt. "And what lies beyond?"
Selene t his gaze, unblinking. "Power born not from sorcery, but from truth. The truth of the body. Of blood. Of pain."
---
That night, soone stepped silently into the village—cloaked in black, face hidden behind a mask of crimson glass. A glint of steel flashed briefly beneath the robe.
The Crimson Circle had arrived.
And they were coming for Elric.
---
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