After their brief trip to Kozto City, Elara and Sylveras returned to Gorion's house via teleportation magic. A ring of light flared beneath their feet, and in a blink, they vanished into a swirl of energy.
Yet before the spell fully activated, Gorion turned toward the dark-robed man beside him—Fenrath. His sharp eyes narrowed with suspicion.
"Why did you bring me there, Fenrath?" he asked.
Fenrath answered without hesitation, his voice low but firm. "Because you're the only human I've met with the scent of unshaken truth. I need someone I can trust—someone who judges without bias."
Gorion merely nodded. Fenrath was not one to offer trust lightly. And so, as their bodies disappeared in the shimmer of teleportation, one thing was certain—they were headed somewhere few dared to tread.
Their destination: the forbidden land known as the Mavet Valley. A barren, silent expanse devoid of life. Here, the sky always seemed dim, even under sunlight, and the wind whispered warnings to all who entered. Among the world's elites, it was known as the "blind spot of the gods"—a place untouched by divine surveillance, where miracles could rot into curses.
"Zorzak built a secret laboratory here," Fenrath said as he walked along a narrow dirt path almost consumed by overgrowth. "He didn't want anyone to find it."
Gorion stepped carefully. Even the grass seemed unwilling to grow here.
"Why build a research site in a cursed land?" he asked softly.
"Because he knew no one would interfere. Not gods, not demons, not high elves. Even archmages avoid this place."
Soon, they arrived at an old stone structure, half-sunken into the valley's slope. No grand doors welcomed them—only glowing arcane runes etched along the wall. Fenrath raised his hand and pressed his palm to the stone. The glyphs shimmered briefly before the wall shifted aside.
Inside, the air was colder. Damp stone walls lined with metal shelves brimmed with ancient scrolls, glass vials, and crystal tubes filled with shimmering liquids. At the center of the room stood a motionless figure—trapped in a shimmering gray barrier. The body was frozen like a statue. Eyes open, yet lifeless. As if the soul had long since departed.
Gorion approached cautiously, his breath shallow. "Who… is that?"
Fenrath didn't answer immediately. His voice grew heavy. "When I was on assignment nearby, I caught Zorzak's scent. I thought he was hiding and planned to give him lesson—for killing my captive back then. But when I infiltrated this lab… I found that."
Gorion quickly raised a protective spell. "Don't get too close! This… this isn't ordinary magic. It's a curse. The energy is dense, but cold—like time itself has stopped."
"You recognize the magic?" Fenrath asked, narrowing his eyes.
Gorion nodded, his gaze drifting to a nearby workbench. A faded photograph lay forgotten atop the table. Two young men, smiling wide, stood side by side. One was clearly Zorzak. The other—similar features, but younger. Softer.
Gorion's voice dropped. "He… looks like Zorzak."
Fenrath inhaled sharply. "Did Zorzak curse… someone that close to him?"
Gorion didn't answer. He moved to a shelf stacked with dozens of tiny vials, each labeled in elegant handwriting: Human, Forest Elf, Southern Orc, Demon Vampire...
Fenrath picked up a vial and froze. "This… this is pure demon-vampire blood… My clan's greatest enemy!"
His pupils flared crimson. His fangs lengthened. The air around him began to tremble.
"GRAAH—WHAT DID HE DO TO HIS OWN BLOOD!?" he snarled, nearly losing control.
Gorion placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "Calm down. This curse—it may have demonic traces. But if Zorzak was trying to heal, not torture… then maybe he wasn't completely wrong. Just… misguided."
Fenrath's glowing eyes stared into his. "If you're right, I'll apologize. But if he toyed with demonic blood for some twisted experiment… I'll be the one to end him."
"For now," Gorion said, his tone stern, "we can't tell anyone. If word gets out, Zorzak's name won't be the only thing ruined. The entire Council will spiral into chaos."
Fenrath exhaled, reluctantly nodding. "I'll keep this secret. But remember, Gorion—I trust you… because I want the truth."
"And I'll find it," Gorion whispered. "In my own way."
Without another word, Fenrath turned and vanished in a flash of teleportation toward the east. Gorion remained still for a moment, gazing at the cold, silent lab. Then, with a heavy sigh, he summoned his return spell. As his body faded from the room, only the valley's whisper remained—endless and restless.
Back home, the scene was strikingly different. Dusk had fallen, but warm light from enchanted lamps softly lit the wooden cottage. Elara and Sylveras sat across from each other at the dining table, deep in discussion. Open books, scattered notes, and a map covered the surface.
"What do you think Yur'gan's trial will be tomorrow?" Elara asked.
Sylveras scratched his head. "No idea. After one day off, just hearing his name already gives me lava-flashbacks."
"You're right," Elara groaned, holding her head.
Sylveras shrugged. "Whatever. He's annoying either way."
The two burst into laughter.
Standing at the doorway, having just arrived, Gorion couldn't help but smile at the sight. But it only lasted a moment.
"What's wrong, Gorion?" Sylveras asked, sensing something off.
Gorion waved it off. "Just an old matter. My friend's as stubborn as ever."
He smiled gently. "Don't worry about it. Just focus on tomorrow's exam. Make sure you both get enough rest tonight. Tomorrow… might be a long day."
Night settled in. Far in the distance, the wind whispered across the mountain peaks. But within Gorion's mind, the image of that still body and the shadowed lab in Mavet Valley lingered, heavy and unresolved.
What are you really trying to do, Zorzak?