I didn't sleep much that night.
Even with the fire burning low, the cave felt cold. Not from the wind or night air—but from something deeper. A cold that came from the walls. From the ground. From the Vale itself.
Every few minutes, I thought I heard whispers. Sometimes laughter. Other times, breathing.
I didn't see anything. But I knew something was watching.
By morning, I was exhausted.
I stepped out of the cave, pulling my cloak tighter around me. The forest looked different again. The sky was red. Not like a sunset—more like blood had been spilled across the clouds.
And the moon was still in the sky. A pale, red circle. Too large. Too low.
"Blood Moon," the Grimoire whispered inside my mind. "The time of broken seals. The forest wakes."
I didn't like the sound of that.
I walked a little away from the cave and checked the map Mother Gwill had left. The third day was tomorrow. I needed to stay hidden until then. She had warned me not to go into any village. Not to draw attention.
But food was low.
And worse—there were footsteps in the mud outside the cave.
Not mine.
Not animals.
Boots.
Fresh.
Someone had been watching me.
I crouched, heart pounding. I scanned the trees, listening.
Nothing.
I stepped carefully, following the tracks. They were deep and wide. Whoever it was, they were heavy, wearing armor maybe.
They led away from the cave. Into the woods.
I thought about going back. Staying hidden. But something inside me whispered:
If you let them go, they'll come back. With more.
So I followed.
The trees thickened as I moved. The light grew dim, the red glow of the sky blocked by tall, twisted branches. Vines hung like ropes. I walked slowly, trying not to make noise.
Then I saw it.
A figure, kneeling by a stream.
Wearing silver armor, trimmed with green.
A holy knight.
I recognized the crest on his shoulder—Sir Edrin Velos, one of the hero party. In the book, he was second-in-command. Noble, proud, and deadly with a sword.
He was here. Early.
I crouched behind a tree and watched.
He wasn't alone.
Two other figures stood nearby. One was a woman in leather armor, holding two daggers. The other was a young man in robes, staff in hand—probably a healer or mage.
Not the full hero party, but a scouting group.
And they were close.
Too close.
Sir Edrin stood. "Tracks end here," he said. "He must be near."
The woman nodded. "Should we call the others?"
"Not yet. We confirm first. Then send a signal."
The young mage looked nervous. "What if he sees us first?"
Edrin's voice was calm. "Then we fight."
I stepped back slowly.
I couldn't fight them. Not all three. Not yet.
I turned to leave—and snapped a branch under my foot.
All three heads turned.
"Over there!" the woman shouted, pointing.
"Go!" Edrin ordered.
I ran.
Branches slapped my face. Thorns tore at my cloak. I didn't look back. I just ran.
"Use me," the Grimoire whispered. "I can stop them. Just a word. Just a drop of blood."
"No," I hissed.
But they were gaining.
I reached a clearing—and stopped.
Standing in the center was a stone altar, covered in moss. Ancient. Cracked. But I recognized it.
The Binding Circle.
In the book, Kael had used it once—to summon a spirit that guarded him. A creature of shadows.
It had killed three knights before vanishing.
I looked down at my hands.
I still had the spell from earlier. The Warding Circle. It wouldn't stop them forever—but maybe long enough.
I pulled out the black ink Mother Gwill gave me and knelt. I drew fast, carving the circle into the dirt with my knife. Then I pricked my thumb and pressed it to the center.
The lines glowed red.
I stepped inside the circle and waited.
Moments later, they arrived: Edrin, the rogue, and the mage.
They stopped at the edge of the clearing.
"Kael Thorne!" Edrin called. "Surrender now and we'll spare you pain."
I didn't answer.
The circle glowed brighter. The air grew heavy.
The rogue stepped forward. "He's casting!"
"Wait!" the mage shouted. "It's a ward!"
Too late.
She threw a dagger. It hit the edge of the circle—and burst into flame.
Edrin cursed. "Fall back! He's prepared!"
I stayed silent, eyes locked on them.
The circle would fade in minutes. But they didn't know that.
Edrin narrowed his eyes. "Why aren't you attacking?"
I didn't answer.
"Coward," he spat. "You hide behind cursed magic like always."
The Grimoire pulsed in my mind.
"Say the word. Burn them."
I stayed quiet.
Then Edrin turned. "We go. But we return tonight. And next time, no mercy."
They left.
I waited until their footsteps vanished before dropping to my knees.
I had survived—but just barely.
The circle faded.
The Grimoire was silent.
I stood, weak, and walked back to the cave.
That night, I didn't sleep.
The Blood Moon was high, and the trees groaned louder than ever. Shadows moved just beyond the firelight. I held the Grimoire in my lap, but didn't open it.
I was scared I'd use it again.
The line between survival and corruption was too thin.
"You are changing," the book whispered. "Soon, you won't care who dies. Only that you live."
I ignored it.
Morning came red and wet. The sky wept blood.
The third day.
I packed my things and left the cave.
I walked east, toward the Broken Spire—a place forgotten in the story. But I remembered it from one of the lore books. A ruined tower once owned by a mage who vanished.
If I could reach it, I might find something. A weapon. A hiding place. Anything.
As I walked, I thought about what I had become.
A villain.
But not by choice.
Still… part of me liked the power.
Liked being feared.
That scared me more than the hero party.
I stopped near a small hill and looked back at the woods.
The Hollow Vale watched me.
And for the first time… I watched it back.
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And so, chapter 3 is done.
So here I am thanking you for taking yout precious time to read this and your patience.
See you in the next one!