The forest near Riverside Hospital was alive with tension as Captain Seraphine and Captain Colins stood before the bound cultists. The night's earlier battle had left the clearing littered with debris, magical scorch marks, and the faint scent of burned wood. The restrained cultists knelt in defiance, their hoods drawn tight over their faces, the glow of Seraphine's torch casting eerie shadows.
"Speak," Seraphine commanded, her voice cold as steel. "What were you doing here? What is your cult planning?"
The cultists remained silent, their lips curling into faint smirks.
Colins leaned forward, his shield resting on the ground beside him. "Do you think this is a game? You were caught red-handed performing a dark ritual. Tell us what you're after, or things will get worse for you."
One of the cultists let out a chilling laugh. "You knights think you're in control, but you're merely pawns on the board. The chaos to come is far beyond your understanding."
Seraphine's patience thinned. She knelt, drawing her blade and pressing it against the throat of the speaker. "I've dealt with zealots (people who are blinded by thier religion)like you before. They always break. Shall I test that theory?"
The cultist's laughter ceased, but a sinister grin lingered. "Even if I told you, it wouldn't matter. You cannot stop what is coming."
Before Seraphine could push further, another cultist began convulsing violently, their body arching backward as guttural screams escaped their lips. Dark energy crackled around them, and their veins turned pitch black, bulging grotesquely beneath their skin.
"What's happening?!" Colins shouted, stepping back as the cultist's screams grew louder.
Seraphine's eyes widened in alarm as the cultist's chest began to swell unnaturally. A sickening crack echoed through the clearing as their ribs burst outward, splattering blood and shredded organs onto the nearby trees and soil.
The other knights recoiled, their faces pale. The remaining cultists watched in silence, their expressions unreadable.
Colins cursed under his breath. "Dark magic… They're sacrificing themselves to keep their secrets."
Seraphine wiped the blood from her face, her jaw tightening. "Round up the rest. If they won't talk, we'll bring them back to the council. Someone will crack."
But deep down, a chill settled in her heart. Whatever the cult was planning, it was far more dangerous than she had anticipated.
---
That Night at the inn
Ada paced back and forth outside the dormitories, her fists clenched. "We can't just sit here, Vaidya. Solis might need our help. What is that idiot even thinking leaving us here?"
Vaidya sighed, leaning against the wall, his satchel slung over his shoulder. "Calm down now, dor Eolin's sake. I know you're worried, Ada, but Solis made a choice. He wanted to handle this alone."
"And you're okay with that?" Ada snapped, her voice rising. "He's our friend, Vaidya. If we don't back him up, who will?"
Vaidya adjusted his glasses, his expression conflicted. "It's not that I don't care. But if we leave without permission, we could get into serious trouble."
Ada stepped closer, her eyes blazing with determination. "Trouble? Who cares about trouble when a dragon destroyed his home and his father's dying? Are you really going to let Solis face that alone?"
Her words struck a chord, and Vaidya sighed deeply. "Fine. But we need a plan."
Ada's face lit up. "I knew you'd come around. We'll use your Wind Path spell to travel faster. If we leave now, we can catch up before anything happens."
Within the hour, they were packed and ready. Under the cover of darkness, they slipped past the academy gates. Vaidya whispered the incantation, and a faint green aura surrounded them as they disappeared into the night, carried swiftly toward Katalan Valley.
---
Solis sat quietly in the corner of the crowded carriage, his bag resting on his lap. The conversations of other passengers faded into background noise as his thoughts consumed him. Katalan Valley felt both impossibly close and painfully far away.
He tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword. The memory of his father's laughter haunted him, a stark contrast to the grim reports he had heard.
The journey stretched long into the night and through the following day. Solis barely slept, his mind replaying the dragon attack he hadn't been there to stop.
---
Katalan Valley
When Solis finally arrived, exhaustion weighed heavy on him. The village was eerily quiet, the remnants of destruction visible in the broken rooftops and scorched fields. As he stepped off the carriage, he froze, his eyes widening in disbelief.
"Ada? Vaidya?"
The two Postknights were sitting casually by the town square fountain, munching on bread rolls. Ada waved enthusiastically.
"Took you long enough!" she called, grinning.
Solis stormed over, his exhaustion replaced by exasperation. "What are you two doing here?"
"We followed you," Ada said matter-of-factly.
"You what?" Solis gawked.
Vaidya shrugged, adjusting his glasses. "It was her idea. I just facilitated the journey."
Solis rubbed his temples. "You're unbelievable."
Ada clapped him on the back. "You'll thank us later. Now let's go find your dad."
---
Uncle Dev, Hector's best friend and the one who is currently looking after people of the village, greeted them at the village's edge, his face lined with worry. "Solis, thank the heavens you're here. Your father's condition… it's bad."
Solis swallowed hard. "Take me to him."
Dev hesitated, glancing at Ada and Vaidya. "It's… not a sight for the faint of heart."
Ada stepped forward. "We're here for Solis. Whatever it is, we can handle it."
Dev led them to a small, dimly lit house. Inside, the smell of burned flesh and herbal salves filled the air. Solis's heart pounded as they approached the room where his father lay.
---
The sight before them was harrowing. Hector's body was a mass of burns, his skin charred black and his face unrecognizable. Only his eyes, dim but still alive, looked toward the door as they entered.
Ada gasped, covering her mouth, while Vaidya's hand trembled against his satchel. Solis stood frozen, tears welling in his eyes.
"F....father…" he whispered, his voice breaking.
Hector managed a weak smile. "Solis… my boy. You came."
Solis dropped to his knees beside the bed, gripping his father's hand—what remained of it. The touch was coarse, brittle, and seared.
"I'm sorry," Solis sobbed. "I should have been here. I should have—"
Hector's voice was faint but firm. "You have… nothing to apologize for. You're a Postknight now. You have… responsibilities."
Tears streamed down Solis's face as Hector lifted his hand, trembling, to pat his son's head. The burnt flesh flaked slightly, but Solis didn't flinch.
"I'm proud… of you, my son." Hector whispered. "Be a go...good Postknight and help pe...people in need."
And then, with a final, shallow breath, Hector's hand fell limp.
Solis stared in disbelief, the weight of loss crashing down on him. He cried out, gripping his father's hand as Ada and Vaidya stood silently behind him, their own eyes glistening with tears.
Vaidya placed a hand on Solis's shoulder, his voice soft. "We're here, Solis. You're not alone."
Solis wept openly, his grief echoing in the quiet room as his friends stayed by his side.