When Kale opened his eyes, the world was burning.
The air was thick with ash, the forest above the tunnel glowing faintly from the flames that still lingered. Every breath hurt. Every heartbeat felt heavy.
He tried to move but pain lanced through his body, sharp and cold, like needles of ice pressing against his skin. For a moment he saw flashes — the witches' faces, the light, the voice whispering through him.
Then it all blurred.
He pushed himself up slowly, his palms sinking into damp soil. The faint blue veins of mana pulsed beneath the ground where he had unleashed his power. It looked alive — breathing — like the world remembered what he had done.
"Elric…" His voice cracked.
He turned, heart pounding, until he saw a familiar figure slumped against a rock a few feet away. The old wizard's staff lay beside him, its runes dimmed to a dull gray.
Kale stumbled forward, kneeling. "Elric! Please—"
Elric groaned, eyes fluttering open. "Still alive… damn it."
Kale let out a shaky laugh of relief. "You're hurt."
"I've been worse." Elric coughed, blood spotting his sleeve. "You, on the other hand… you nearly brought this mountain down."
Kale looked away, guilt washing through him. "I couldn't control it."
"No," Elric said, his tone low. "You didn't want to."
That struck harder than any wound. Kale's fingers dug into the dirt. "They killed my parents, Elric. What was I supposed to do—"
"Not that," Elric snapped. "Not unleash something you don't understand."
Silence hung between them, broken only by the soft hiss of cooling embers.
Then, a sound — faint, quick, close.
Kale turned sharply. The forest was still, but he could sense it — something moving beyond the trees. The hairs on his neck stood on end.
"Elric," he whispered. "We're not alone."
The older man slowly reached for his staff. "Stay behind me."
From the shadows emerged a figure. Slender. Pale. Moving unsteadily, like a ghost.
She stepped into the moonlight — a girl, maybe sixteen or seventeen, with long silver hair matted with blood. Her eyes glowed faintly red, sharp as daggers even in exhaustion.
Kale froze. "A vampire."
Elric muttered a curse under his breath. "Just what we needed."
The girl swayed, clutching her side. "If you… value your lives… you'll move. Now."
Kale frowned. "Why?"
"Hunters," she rasped. "They're coming. Not for me. For you."
Elric stiffened. "The Witch Hunters."
The girl nodded weakly before collapsing to her knees, breathing hard. "I led them off your trail… but they'll find it again."
Kale rushed forward, catching her before she hit the ground. Her skin was ice cold. "You're bleeding."
She smirked faintly through bloodied lips. "That's what happens when you take on six at once."
"You fought them alone?"
Her voice softened. "It was… entertaining."
Kale laid her down gently. "You'll die if we don't treat this."
She gave a weak laugh. "You sound like a human."
"I am," Kale said.
Her eyes met his — red against blue. "No," she whispered. "You're something worse."
Elric approached cautiously. "What's your name, girl?"
She hesitated. "Lyra."
"Why help us, Lyra?" Kale asked.
She looked away. "Because the witches want both our kinds extinct. You're cursed for being born. I'm cursed for existing. That makes us… alike."
Kale glanced at Elric, who sighed. "Great. Another mouth to feed and one that drinks blood, no less."
Lyra gave a tired smirk. "Don't worry, old man. You're too bitter for my taste."
Even Kale cracked a faint smile.
But before the moment could settle, the wind shifted — carrying the faint echo of metal clinking, boots crunching leaves, and whispered chants.
Lyra's eyes snapped open, glowing brighter. "They're close."
Elric's staff lit up again, runes humming softly. "We move now."
Kale helped Lyra up. She leaned heavily on him, her breath ragged but steady.
As they disappeared into the dark, the first Witch Hunters stepped into the clearing — cloaked figures with glowing weapons, their faces hidden behind runic masks.
One knelt, brushing ash from the ground where Kale had stood. The soil still shimmered faint blue.
"He's been here," the lead Hunter said. His voice was cold and certain. "The Cursed Mana lives."
He straightened and raised his sword toward the east — toward the forest.
"Find him. Kill whoever stands in your way."