Fog clung low to the ground, curling like silent whispers across Forest Vale's training yard. The morning air was cool and still, with the occasional creak of timber in the cabins and trees.
Myla walked alone, soft steps along the path, the hum of a tune lingering on her lips. She hadn't slept much, but not out of restlessness, because her thoughts had been strangely content. Her hand drifted to her wrist, fingers brushing against bare skin. No visible lace for now, but the warmth remained.
She slowed as she reached Bren's cabin, hesitating before knocking. The door creaked open before she could lift her hand.
Bren stepped out, tousle-haired and bleary-eyed. His expression softened when he saw her.
"Morning," he murmured, voice rough with sleep but edged with something else... fondness.
"Didn't expect to see you up early," she said, smiling.
He shrugged, stepping down. "Didn't sleep much."
Their steps naturally fell in sync as they walked. Silence lingered, comfortable.
"I'm glad you came back last night," she said quietly.
He glanced at her, then nodded. "I needed to. For you."
Before either could say more, a door slammed open behind them.
"Oi, lovebirds!" Kovan called, squinting at the sky. "Are we training or writing poetry?"
Myla flushed. Bren snorted.
"We're going, we're going," he called back.
The trio made their way to the training ground. Leia was already there, stretching with precise, methodical movements. She gave them a nod of acknowledgment.
As they reached the center, the morning light filtering through the trees, Bren's skin prickled. A shift in the air. A presence.
Myla screamed.
Bren reacted before his mind caught up. His sigils burned bright, Reflex Sigil, Stability Sigil, Shadow Veil stacked and activated in a blink. He vanished and reappeared in front of her, arm outstretched behind her. Gently pulling her close to him.
A figure stood behind her, head tilted, lips curled in that same eerie smile.
"Morning, sunshine," Lily said, her voice light but lined with something ancient.
Kovan's sword was already out, Leia's dagger in hand. Both stood firm, flanking Bren.
Lily giggled. "Always so jumpy."
"You moved without a trace," Leia said flatly.
"Maybe you're just out of practice," Lily replied.
Before tension could explode, a voice cut through it like a blade.
"How fortunate," Silas said, stepping from the treeline.
Seraphin walked beside him, arms crossed, gaze assessing. A small group of Starfire Guild recruits followed behind them, stopping at the training yard edge.
"It seems energy is high this morning," Silas continued. "What better time for a demonstration?"
Seraphin turned to Lily. "You're up."
Lily's smile widened, her eyes never leaving Bren.
Silas looked to Bren. "Step forward. Show us how far you've come."
Whispers stirred among the other Forest Guild members and the Starfire Guild nearby. Myla stepped forward, grabbing Bren's arm.
"You don't have to," she whispered.
"I want to," Bren said. "I need to."
They locked eyes for a moment. He nodded softly with a faint smile, then turned.
The journey to Crimson Hollow Arena was quiet. Bren's boots crunched against dead leaves, the memories of the Trial flickering at the edge of his mind. The arena loomed ahead, its stone pillars casting long shadows.
But he was different now.
He's had some training with McEvoy.
He stepped into the ring. Lily mirrored him a few feet away, her expression unreadable.
"She's wrong," Nythor's voice slithered through his mind. "Her blood sings with secrets."
Bren's jaw clenched. "Not now."
"She's not what she pretends to be," Nythor whispered again. "But neither are you."
Silas raised a hand. "Begin."
Lily moved like wind... fluid, unpredictable. She struck low. Bren blocked high. Her blade darted in from an angle he didn't expect.
He activated his Kinetic Vision Sigil, his perception sharpening. Steel met steel. Sparks flew.
She was toying with him.
Bren's legs blurred with Shadow Step, teleporting behind her. His blade came down. She spun, parried with a laugh.
"You're quicker than before," she said.
Bren said nothing. He activated Pulse Drive, a booster sigil that surged power into his arms. Their blades clashed again, this time the impact cracked the stone beneath their feet.
Still, she danced. Effortless.
"You're not enough," Nythor murmured. "Not yet. Let me lend you a hand..."
Bren hesitated.
Then he sighed...
"Fine..."
Black flooded his veins. His eyes turned obsidian, emotionless and vast. A violet-black shadow aura erupted at his feet and through his body, licking the air.
Gasps echoed from the audience.
He channelled his energy through Nythor's sword materialised in his grip, sleek, jagged, pulsing.
He smiled. A twisted, eerie grin.
Not how Bren would usually smile...
"Let's begin round two, shall we?" he said, voice slightly deeper.
Lily's stance shifted. Her grin faltered... not in fear but in recognition.
They clashed again. This time, she was pushed back.
Bren moved like liquid shadow, sigils burning brighter violet than before. He drove her toward the edge, blow after blow cracking the air. The ground trembled beneath them.
Suddenly Lily falls to her knees.
From the sidelines, Myla's hands curled over her chest. Tears in her eyes.
"Is that really… Bren?" she whispered.
Kovan's grip tightened on his sword next to her. Leia's stance widened, ready. Prepared for something to go wrong.
"He must be Demonbound..." Leia muttered under her breath, eyes shadowed.
Seraphin's eyes narrowed at Lily.
Silas watched Bren, smiling faintly.
Bren raised the shadow blade overhead to finish her, but his vision blurred.
His knees buckled. Shadows surged erratically, then shattered like glass. The violet-black aura cracked and fell apart.
He collapsed, the obsidian sword vanishing into mist.
"BREN!" Myla screamed, sprinting into the ring.
She fell to her knees beside him, arms wrapping around his twitching body.
Kovan and Leia followed, weapons drawn, standing guard around them.
Bren's body shook, black mist rising from his skin.
The two Guild Masters stopped at the arena's edge.
Seraphin said nothing. Silas tilted his head slightly, thoughtful.
"The cage is weakening," Silas mused silently. "He'll need to train harder... or break."
System Prompt – Soul Link Initiated
[Soul Connection: Myla Vale]
Status: Linked
Bond Type: Emotional | Protective | Soulbound
Effect: When near Myla, magic stabilises. emotions stabilises, Stat boost to [Control] and [Resilience].
Visual Indicator: Gold-Violet ethereal lace — can be visible only when within 2m proximity.
Warning: Link strength increases with emotional intensity.
Later that day...
The sun dipped behind Forest Vale's canopy, bathing the cabin in dusky amber. A soft breeze stirred the half-drawn curtains, sending shadows dancing across the wooden floorboards.
Bren lay unconscious in his bed, chest rising and falling with slow, labored breaths. The sigils etched into his skin had returned to black, but a faint, residual glow still lingered beneath his veins, like the embers of a fire not quite extinguished.
Kovan paced near the doorway, arms crossed tightly, jaw clenched. Leia stood across from him, hands on her hips, voice low and sharp.
"He's hiding something," she muttered. "That wasn't a normal fight."
Kovan scowled. "You felt something because he's powerful, Leia. More powerful than we thought. He must be a plus-rank..."
"He's not a plus-rank," she snapped, eyes narrowing. "He has no Hunter record, no training, no weapon compatibility, and did you miss the demonic aura flaring around him? There was demonic shadow magic, Kovan. You saw it twist."
"I also saw it stabilise," Kovan said, stepping closer, voice lowered. "It isn't demonic. It's not red, not completely black."
Leia's expression cracked for a split second. "That doesn't mean he can't be Demonbound. It could be an illusion. A trap."
Myla sat beside the bed, silent, her hand gently resting on Bren's. Her thumb brushed the back of his knuckles, slow and steady. Her gaze never left his face.
"He's not a demon," she said quietly, but firmly. "I would know. And I don't think he is Demonbound. I would feel it."
Leia turned to her, mouth opening with another retort, then stopped. She stared at Myla's hand, then at Bren's face, twisted slightly in pain even in sleep.
"You don't know anything, Myla," she finally said, voice hollow. "He might be Demonbound or worse."
Without another word, she turned and stormed out of the cabin. Kovan hesitated for a breath, then followed.
Outside, the air was colder. The last remnants of day bled into night. The sky stretched overhead, cloudless and orange.
"Leia," Kovan called after her. "You're overreacting."
She stopped at the edge of the training yard, spinning on him. "No, I'm seeing clearly. You two are the one's making excuses for him!"
"He's not dangerous," Kovan said, fists clenched. "I brought him into the recruitment hall on purpose, because I saw something in him. He survived the Trial. Then Limbo as well as saving us... He keeps surviving."
Leia's voice trembled. "Surviving isn't proof of anything except that something inside him refuses to die. That thing could be him… or it could be something else."
Inside the cabin, Bren stirred.
His eyes fluttered open. For a moment, all he saw was the wooden ceiling overhead and the shadows moving across it.
Then pain lanced through his skull like lightning.
"Gh—" He winced, gripping the sheets. Everything felt wrong. His limbs were heavy. His breaths came too shallow. His heart... was being irregularly.
And something was whispering beneath it.
A pulse. A presence. Familiar, suffocating.
Darkness pressed against the edges of his mind like claws dragging across stone.
"No... not now…"
He turned his head slowly. Myla sat at his bedside, fingers still cradling his hand.
Her touch was warm. Gentle.
But it felt like fire on his skin.
Bren's vision blurred. The golden-violet thread, that strange glowing tether, flashed behind his eyes. He remembered the voice. The memory. The name Elira. Nythor's voice had trembled. Why?
What had that connection meant?
His stomach turned.
"If this bond is real... if I lose control... if I hurt her—"
He jerked his hand away.
Myla blinked. "Bren?"
His breathing grew faster. Her voice... it sounded distant, warped. Like he was underwater. Something dark coiled tighter in his chest, pushing up his throat.
"I... I'm fine," he whispered, avoiding her gaze. "Just… a headache."
Myla hesitated, then nodded, concern etched into every line of her face. "Okay. I'll get some water—"
"No!" he said sharply. Then softer, "No… just stay there."
She did... quiet and still. Watching him with eyes that searched for something she didn't understand, and he wasn't sure he could explain.
"I can't let history repeat again," he thought. "I can't let you be pulled into my shadows."
Outside, Kovan and Leia's voices faded into the distance.
Inside, Bren turned his face away from Myla… and toward the creeping dark in his mind.
"Bren?" Myla said, her voice like a whisper muffled away by the coming darkness.