The stillness of the night in Ulaz was heavy, an oppressive weight that seemed to seep into the very air. It was a quiet so thick that even the crackling of the fire in Sam's home felt muted, as though the world itself held its breath. The dim flicker of flames painted restless shadows on the wooden walls, their distorted forms twisting and swaying like wraiths anticipating the coming storm.
Sam sat near the hearth, his gaze fixed on the dancing flames, though his thoughts were far from the present. Across the room, Lareth leaned against the sturdy wooden table, his silver eyes glinting faintly in the dim light. Though his posture seemed relaxed, the tension in his voice betrayed him as he broke the silence.
"It's not the Monarch’s Revival, Sam." His words were deliberate, carrying a weight that made Sam's stomach churn. "The darkness you’ve been sensing—it's older, more insidious. And it has been waiting."
Sam straightened, the tension coiling in his chest like a spring. "What do you mean?" His voice came out steadier than he felt. "If it’s not the Monarch’s Revival, then what is it?"
Lareth’s eyes met his, cold and unyielding. "Demons, Sam. A powerful group of them. They’ve been lying in wait for years. And they’re here for revenge."
The word revenge struck Sam like a thunderclap, his breath catching in his throat. It brought with it an avalanche of memories, long buried but never forgotten. He saw again the flicker of crimson-streaked steel, the twisted faces of the demons that had attacked his home so many years ago, and the desperate cries of his parents as they fought to protect him.
His voice faltered as he whispered, "This is because of what happened that night, isn’t it?"
Lareth’s expression didn’t waver. "Yes." He stepped forward, the floorboards creaking under his weight. "The demons you defeated as a child belonged to a much larger force. Their commander—" He paused, his tone growing darker. "You killed him, Sam. And the survivors haven’t forgotten."
The air seemed to grow colder, as though the room itself recoiled from the truth. Sam’s mind raced back to that night, his first brush with the power that now defined him. He had been barely a year old, yet his shadow blade had cleaved through demon after demon, driven by an instinct that terrified even his parents. He remembered the demon commander—a towering monstrosity whose very presence had turned the air to ice. It had taken everything within him to bring the creature down. The memory of his blade cutting through its neck, of its lifeblood pooling beneath his feet, was seared into his mind.
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"They’ve been watching me," Sam said at last, his voice trembling with realization. "Waiting for me to grow stronger, to make their move when the stakes were highest."
"Exactly." Lareth’s tone was grim. "This isn’t just revenge—it’s a reckoning. They want to destroy everything you hold dear, to make you suffer before they end you."
The words stung, but they also ignited something within Sam. The fear that threatened to consume him gave way to a simmering resolve, a fire that had been kindled the night he first drew blood. "So they’re coming for me," he said, his voice hardening. "Then we fight. I’ll end this once and for all."
Lareth nodded, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his blade. "We prepare. This will be unlike anything you’ve faced before. But you’re not alone in this, Sam. We’ll stand together."
As the night deepened, Sam found himself walking through the quiet streets of the village. The shadows seemed to cling more tightly to the corners, their presence oppressive and unyielding. The weight of his past and the battle to come pressed heavily on his shoulders.
He heard footsteps behind him and turned to see Isonorai approaching. She moved with the quiet grace of a seasoned warrior, her presence as steadying as the dawn.
"I thought I’d find you here," she said softly. "Couldn’t sleep?"
Sam shook his head, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. "Too much on my mind."
Isonorai fell into step beside him. "Lareth told me. About the demons, their vengeance."
Sam clenched his fists, the words spilling out before he could stop them. "This is my fault. If I hadn’t killed their commander—"
"Stop," Isonorai interrupted, her voice firm but not unkind. She turned to face him, her gaze piercing. "You can’t blame yourself for doing what was necessary. You saved your family, your village. The demons would’ve slaughtered everyone if you hadn’t fought back."
"But it doesn’t change the fact that they’re here because of me," Sam said, his voice cracking under the weight of his guilt.
"It doesn’t," she admitted. "But guilt won’t help you fight them. What will help is remembering why you fought in the first place—why you’ll fight again."
Her words grounded him, reminding him that he wasn’t alone. The strength in her gaze mirrored the fire growing within him.
"Thank you," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.
Before Isonorai could respond, the sound of hurried footsteps broke the stillness. Lareth appeared, his usually composed expression tight with urgency.
"They’ve been spotted," he said, his voice grim. "At the edge of the forest. We don’t have much time."
Sam felt his heart hammer in his chest, but he forced himself to remain calm. "How many?"
"Too many to count," Lareth replied. "And they’ve brought beasts. We need to fortify the village now."
The three exchanged a glance, a silent understanding passing between them. The time for hesitation was over.
As dawn broke over Ulaz, the village was a hive of activity. Defenders prepared their weapons, families huddled in safe houses, and the tension in the air was palpable. Sam stood at the forefront, his shadow blade resting at his side, his resolve unshakable.
The demons were coming. The shadows of his past loomed large, but Sam knew one thing with certainty—he would face them, not as the frightened child he once was, but as the warrior he had become.
And this time, he would ensure they never returned.
