"So, where's the Harbinger now, Mahesa?"
Mahesa didn't answer imdiately.
Instead, he looked toward the fla, its light now steady, almost expectant, before turning his gaze back to the Headmaster.
"Sowhere safe... He doesn't know what he is," Mahesa said at last, voice low, tinged with sothing between reverence and regret. "Not yet. He wanders the world, unaware of what stirs within him"
Another ntor, one cloaked in green and gold, their face hidden behind a wooden mask shaped like a falcon... Spoke, voice sharp and asured:
"You an to tell us the Harbinger walks the world without a guide? Without protection?"
Mahesa nodded once.
"He was never ant to be caged or grood. The First Fla chose him freely. It's not for us to bind him"
"But he is vulnerable," The masked ntor snapped. "If others sense even a fragnt of what you claim, he won't survive long"
Mahesa's eyes turned cold.
"He's survived more than you think. More than most here ever could. He's already been tested. By the shadows... By the Hollowed, he's surviving on his own, not with the help of others"
There was a long pause.
Then, from the shadows near the rear of the chamber, another voice spoke, a ntor so old their presence felt more like an echo than a man.
"Does he know?" The voice rasped. "Does he know what it ans... To be the Harbinger?"
Mahesa's reply was soft.
"... No"
Another pulse from the First Fla.
Stronger now.
Almost impatient.
And Mahesa continued:
"But he will"
He looked up again, voice steady now.
"He's coming. Whether by choice or fate. He will find this place... Or this place will find him. And when he does"
He turned fully, addressing the whole chamber.
"... We must be ready. Not to teach him. Not to command him. But to rember. To serve the purpose we've long forgotten beneath tradition and fear"
Silence fell once more, but this ti, it felt different.
Less uncertain.
More... Inevitable.
And then the Headmaster finally spoke again, quiet but firm:
"Then may the Fla guide him"
Mahesa closed his eyes and bowed his head.
"It already is"
--------
The chamber emptied in silence, the flas along the walls dimming one by one. The echo of footsteps faded until only two remained: Mahesa and the Headmaster.
For a mont, neither spoke. The First Fla flickered softly between them, less intense now, less expectant, perhaps. Just... Listening.
The Headmaster finally broke the silence.
"You shouldn't have told them that much"
Mahesa didn't look at him. He kept his eyes on the embers.
"I told them what they needed to hear"
"You told them more than that," The Headmaster said quietly. "You spoke like a man who still hopes"
Mahesa's eyes narrowed faintly, the smallest ghost of a smile on his lips.
"And you speak like a man who doesn't"
The Headmaster sighed, moving to sit on the stone bench beside the Fla.
"I did hope. Once. When he was born, I thought perhaps the old dreams would stir again. But then the signs scattered. The prophecies contradicted each other. We've lost more than just faith, Mahesa... We've lost clarity"
Mahesa finally turned, his voice lower now, threaded with sothing rawer than before.
"He's my friend... My best friend's grandson. The world doesn't need clarity to know what he is becoming. It only needs ti"
The Headmaster's gaze sharpened.
"And if he doesn't beco what you think? There are many before him, Mahesa... And I Witness all of them fall to the shadow... And you also see one of them, Moona's Father... You Discip-"
"Master!"
The word cracked through the chamber like a whip, louder than Mahesa intended. It echoed against the ancient stone walls, bouncing back at him like a rebuke.
The Headmaster's gaze turned sharp, his wrinkled hands pausing mid-motion as he'd been about to reach for the embers.
The silence that followed was imdiate, taut with unspoken words and the gravity of what had almost been said.
Mahesa took a breath, his chest rising with effort. His fists trembled slightly at his sides, not from fear, but restraint.
"Forgive for raising my voice, Master," He said at last, voice quieter now, clipped with control. "However, it would be better if we did not speak about that"
He didn't et the Headmaster's eyes. Instead, his gaze fell to the flickering Fla between them, watching its dance like it might erase the image of that na. That man.
Moona's father.
The silence returned, but this ti, it was cold.
The Headmaster sat back slowly, folding his hands in his lap. The firelight etched deeper lines into his face, highlighting the sorrow that never quite left his eyes.
"You're still carrying it," He said, almost to himself. "After all these years..."
Mahesa's jaw clenched, his expression unreadable.
"So burdens don't pass," He said. "They settle into your bones"
The Headmaster studied him, his voice lowering into sothing gentler, older.
"You trained him, Mahesa. Just like you're watching over the boy now. Don't pretend the two aren't connected"
Mahesa's eyes narrowed, flicking up at last, just briefly to et the Headmaster's.
Firelight t steel.
"They are not the sa"
"No," The Headmaster agreed. "But the shadow they walk toward... Is"
Another silence stretched between them, heavy with history, with mory.
"He was your disciple. And you loved him like a son"
Mahesa's eyes closed for a long second. When he spoke again, the words ca from deep beneath years of grief.
"He had the Light within him. It sang in his spirit. But in the end... He surrendered to the Shadow. Willingly. He didn't fall." His voice dropped, dark and steady. "He walked"
A long silence.
The Headmaster leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
"Does Moona know?"
Mahesa's head turned slightly, just enough to show the glint of sorrow in his eyes.
"No. To her, both her parents are simply... Gone. No grave. No final words. Just absence"
The flas along the chamber walls dimd, as though mourning too.
"And that's how it should stay," Mahesa finished. "The truth would only poison her heart. Let her mourn the dead. Not chase the damned"
The Headmaster nodded slowly, fingers threading together as he stared into the embers.
"You protect her like she was your own"
"She is my own," Mahesa said, with quiet conviction. "She may carry his blood, but she'll never carry his burden. Not if I can help it"
For a long while, neither spoke.
The First Fla flickered gently, now less a beacon, more a companion to grief. It listened, and in its light, the past danced quietly between two old n, one who bore the weight of mory, and the other who bore the duty to the future.
The silence stretched on until the Headmaster finally rose. His bones creaked like old wood, and the Fla flickered with the movent as if acknowledging his age.
"We are nearing the edge," He murmured, not looking at Mahesa. "And when the edge cos... It doesn't matter whether we fall or walk into the dark. The result is the sa"
Mahesa stood, too, slower this ti. Tired. Not from age, but from carrying too many mories.
"Then we make sure he doesn't reach the edge alone," He said.
The Headmaster nodded faintly. "And if it's too late? If the Shadow already has its claws in him?"
Mahesa didn't blink. "Then I'll go into the dark myself and tear them out"
For a heartbeat, the First Fla flared, not in warning, but in resonance. Like it rembered what such words once ant. What kind of n once made them.
The Headmaster turned toward the passage leading out of the chamber.
"We'll summon the others," He said. "Quietly. The Circle must prepare. Not for his arrival... But for his awakening"
"And the girl?" The Headmaster added, pausing just before the archway.
Mahesa's voice was soft, but firm.
"She stays with . She trains, she studies. But she never learns the truth... Not yet. If she finds it, it must be by her own light"
The Headmaster lingered for a mont, then gave a single nod and left.
Mahesa remained.
He turned back toward the First Fla. It had quieted again, pulsing faintly like a heartbeat beneath stone and ash.
He reached into his robes and pulled out a small, blackened coin, worn smooth by ti. One side bore the faded sigil of a forgotten order; the other was scorched blank.
He placed it gently at the Fla's base.
"A marker," He said, almost to himself. "For the one who walked away"
Then he turned and walked out, leaving the chamber in silence, save for the whisper of the Fla.
--------
- Shadow Realm
The air here did not move.
It watched.
A sea of shifting black, still as oil but alive beneath its surface, spread endlessly in all directions. Towering spires of obsidian jutted from the void like broken teeth, their shapes unnatural.
Wrong, in ways the mind refused to na.
Then, sothing stirred.
Not in the Realm.
Within it.
Beneath the surface of its silence, a ripple echoed, a breath inhaled in a world that should not breathe. Sothing old, sothing forgotten by the stars and shunned by ti, opened eyes that were never ant to open again.
Eyes that saw without light.
A mory awakened.
It wasn't human. Not anymore.
Maybe it never was.
It had once been sothing, once known sothing. But the centuries had stripped that away, buried it beneath nightmare and oath, sorrow, and war. All that remained was an echo, buried in the marrow of the Realm itself.
But now...
Now it rose.
"... So it's already begun"
....
...
..
.
Reviews
All reviews (0)