The message arrived just past dawn.
A hawk, ash-colored, circled twice before landing on the outer watchpost. The scroll tied to its leg bore no crest—only wax smeared into a jagged circle.
Leon stood with Yundar and two of the manor's old captains as they read it.
He didn't say a word until Yundar handed it to him.
"Movement spotted near Hollow Vale. Unnatural shapes. Eyes like glass. Flame without smoke. Ten reported. Three survived."
Beneath that, in messy handwriting:
"It was looking for someone."
Leon folded the message once. Then again. Then tucked it into his belt.
The ride south took them through forest first, then fog. They moved in a tight column—five riders total. Leon led, Yundar second, followed by two scouts and a mage from the northern academy. Young. Pale. Dressed for ritual, not blood.
None of them spoke.
The forest changed after the third hour.
The birds stopped.
The leaves didn't shift in the wind.
The deeper they rode, the more the air pressed in.
Like it was watching.
They reached Hollow Vale before noon.
The village was gone.
Not burned. Not razed.
Gone.
Ash coated everything in sight—trees, broken fences, the well at the center. No blood. No bodies. Just marks in the dirt. Long claw trails. Deep depressions where hooves or something heavier had landed.
The buildings had collapsed inward. Like gravity had twisted.
Leon dismounted without waiting.
Yundar followed, blade already in hand.
"Tracks?" Leon asked.
One of the scouts nodded. "Northwest edge. Leading out. Wide spread. Fast."
"Any signs of stopping?"
"No. But something came back this way."
Leon looked around slowly.
"This happened too fast," he muttered.
Yundar's jaw tightened. "Too clean."
The mage stepped into the center of the square and pressed two fingers to the dirt. He muttered something under his breath. His palm glowed faintly blue.
Then went black.
He gasped and fell backward, clawing at his wrist.
Leon rushed forward and caught him before he hit the ground. His eyes were wide.
"Something looked at me," the mage whispered. "It saw through the spell. It—"
He went still.
Not dead.
Fainted.
Yundar crouched beside him. "That's not just demon magic."
"No," Leon said. "It's worse."
He stood. Turned toward the tree line.
He could feel it again.
Not just a presence.
An attention.
He drew his sword.
They set up camp at the ridge above the vale.
They wouldn't sleep, but they needed to wait. If the creatures returned, Leon wanted to see them from above.
Dusk bled red across the sky.
Leon stood at the edge of the ridge, watching.
Torchlight behind him. The others sat close, weapons near, breath shallow.
Yundar came up beside him. "You know it's not random, right?"
Leon didn't look away. "I do now."
"You think they're following you?"
"I think they were sent to make sure I didn't come back."
Yundar's silence said enough.
The first one appeared as the sky blackened.
No footsteps. No rustle.
Just shape.
It stood at the base of the ridge, barely visible beyond the ashen trees. Limbs too long. Neck crooked sideways. Head cocked like a question.
It didn't move.
But it saw them.
Leon took a step forward.
His sword hummed in his hand. Not sound. Not heat. Just pressure.
It knew him.
He raised the blade.
The creature raised one hand.
And pointed.
Behind them, the wind shifted.
More shapes moved at the ridge line—five, maybe more. Their bodies shimmered in the dark, not glowing, but rippling like the heat off a forge.
Yundar shouted. The scouts drew.
Leon didn't wait.
He ran.
Down the ridge.
Toward the one that pointed.
It didn't flee.
It opened.
Its ribcage spread like a gate, wide and full of flame. Not burning. Just red and pulsing. Like a furnace waiting for breath.
Leon didn't blink.
He swung.
The blade struck bone. Metal screamed against it. The creature folded in on itself and flared outward—a pulse of heat knocking Leon back three steps.
But it bled.
Real blood. Black and thick.
The thing hissed. Not from pain. From recognition.
Leon spat into the ash. "You know my name?"
It tilted its head.
Then whispered.
"We buried you once."
Leon surged forward.
This time, he didn't swing wide. He stepped in close, pivoted, and drove the point of the blade through its chest.
The creature arched.
Collapsed.
Turned to ash.
He stood over the pile, chest heaving.
The others were already fighting on the ridge—Yundar holding the high ground, spears thrown, fire spells launched. Two demons down. One fled.
The rest vanished into smoke.
Leon didn't chase.
He stood alone in the clearing, blade dripping black.
Not with blood.
With memory.
Leon stood in the stillness long after the others returned to the ridge.
The ash swirled gently at his feet, disturbed only by the last fading gust of wind. What was left of the demon wasn't flesh. It didn't rot. It didn't smell. It simply crumbled—like brittle parchment set too close to flame.
And yet, something lingered.
He could still feel the imprint it left in the dirt. Not heat. Not weight. Something else.
Recognition.
That thing had known his face.
It had said we buried you once.
He crouched, knelt in the ashen mark, and dragged two fingers through the dust. The ground beneath was warm.
Not just sun-warm.
Wound-warm.
It hadn't bled to death.
It had bled into something.
Leon looked up slowly.
The trees were still dark. Still quiet.
But the air had changed.
It no longer felt like something was watching him.
It felt like something was waiting.
Back at the makeshift camp, Yundar was binding the mage's wrist while one of the scouts checked their perimeter spells again and again, mumbling about gaps that hadn't been there an hour ago.
Leon approached in silence.
Yundar didn't turn. "You killed it?"
"It turned to ash."
"That's not the same as dead."
Leon sat on the low stump across from him. "No. But it's a start."
Yundar finished tying the knot on the mage's wrap, then looked up. "That one—was it the same kind as before?"
Leon nodded once. "Worse."
Yundar leaned back. "You realize what this means?"
"Yeah," Leon said. He looked down at his hands, still smeared black at the fingertips. "They don't just recognize me now. They remember me."
Yundar stared for a moment. Then asked the question Leon had been waiting for since Hollow Vale.
"What exactly came back with you?"