The trees here were darker, taller, older.
Magic hung in the air like fog—silent, watching.
Serian walked cautiously with his team: a small, elite squad sent by the Council to gather intel. No large forces. No heavy weapons.
Just scouts.
And a hero walking toward something he couldn't explain.
> "Everyone be alert," he ordered.
"We don't know what kind of twisted things live here."
But as they moved past villages… they saw no monsters.
They saw children laughing.
Old people sitting on porches.
Wounded humans being healed with demon magic.
It made no sense.
---
A Village in Her Name
They arrived at a settlement built in a gorge of glowing stones. Serian expected bones. Torture. Dark rituals.
Instead…
There was food.
Warmth.
Smiles.
A little girl ran up to him and tugged on his glove. "Are you here to join us too, mister? Mother Malveth said more would come soon!"
Serian blinked. "Mother… Malveth?"
She nodded. "She gave us names. Home. Warmth. We're not cursed anymore."
His heart twisted. This wasn't fake. This wasn't brainwashing. These people weren't prisoners.
> They were saved.
And they loved her.
---
A Crack in the Hero's Faith
That night, the party rested in silence.
None of the scouts spoke.
One of them finally muttered, "I think we've been lied to…"
Serian sat near the fire, staring into the flames.
> "This… this isn't how evil behaves."
He remembered the orphanages in the capital, where kids starved.
He remembered soldiers dragging people from their homes for being "tainted."
He remembered how easily the Council said "kill them all."
> "So who's the real monster?"
And in his sleep, Serian dreamed again—
This time, of a dark throne where two versions of himself fought to control the crown.
---
And Far Away… She Watches
From a high tower, Malveth watched through a black mirror.
Serian. Conflicted. Vulnerable.
She touched the glass lovingly.
> "Soon, you'll remember.
And when you do… I'll make sure no one takes you from me again."
Behind her, the children trained with blade and spell—soldiers of the night, loyal not to conquest but to their "Mother."
And across the world… the original soul smiled.
> "Good. Let them doubt. Let them love. Let them hate.
In the end… they'll all return to me."
---