Head Warden Marcho stood in the observation room. Ancient runes carved into the marble walls had begun to faintly glow. These runes typically responded only to intense Xhu fluctuations. Marcho narrowed his eyes, reaching behind to feel the handle of his axe.
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A guard burst into the room.
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“Sir, the outer circle seals are weakening. The prisoners are growing restless, and their voices are rising.”
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Marcho took a deep breath. His face showed no anger, but his seriousness was stone like.
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“Yuhen is alone in battle. If the enemy overwhelms him, they may come here I cannot leave.”
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He summoned four of his most trusted men to the gate:
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“Graum, Nedit, Hollen, Truia. Arm yourselves. You will go aid Yuhen in battle.”
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The four guards nodded and marched toward the outer passages, their steps heavy.
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Marcho stood alone for a moment. He placed his hands on the rune stones.
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“If the battle has begun... these walls will soon begin to crack.”
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The light of the floor seals was no longer stable. They flickered, pulsed, dimmed. Rouma still lay motionless but now, a faint light shimmered beneath his eyelids. His breath had deepened. Xhu moved beneath his skin, pressing against the seals etched in his veins.
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Rouma’s Xhu had begun to surface, slowly weakening the seal.
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And the reason for that weakening was not an attack but a call. No a resonance. A bond.
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Pegwalsge’s Xhu was awakening Rouma’s.
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That ancient soul thread between them was the one thing the seals could not silence, and now the Xhu Pegwalsge unleashed in battle had triggered the storm within Rouma.
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The stone walls remained unchanged. The chains were still in place. But thin cracks had begun to appear across the seals. Small. Seemingly insignificant. But... ancient seals do not crack.
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From the corner of the cell, a sound arose. A faceless prisoner chained to the opposite wall turned his head.
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“Do you hear it?” he whispered, an unsettling grin on his face. “This Xhu will bring blood and wrath.”
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Marcho descended to the lower levels, pausing at the entrance. The voice echoing in his head didn’t seem like his own.
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A guard rushed to him.
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“Sir... the seals in Rouma’s cell are glowing. The runes might be breaking. The outer layer’s been affected. But we’ve detected no external attack.”
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Marcho closed his eyes, trying to understand how the runes could weaken without outside force.
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“No external attack is needed,” he said. “Whoever is coming their Xhu is awakening Rouma’s.”
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He turned back, walking faster, muttering to himself.
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Graum, Nedit, Hollen, and Truia passed through the heavy iron gate on Marcho’s orders, leaving behind the cold stone silence of Haxar. The echoes of their armor mixed with the phantom footsteps of the dead in the dark corridors.
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All four were silent. Yet each bore the same weight: whatever awaited them outside might not be a battle it could be a slaughter.
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Truia, the youngest of Haxar’s wardens, showed no trace of boyhood in his eyes. As he strapped his sword to his waist, he said:
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“Who could make even Marcho uneasy?”
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Graum didn’t answer, staring at the ground. Nedit, devout as ever, murmured a prayer. Hollen simply bowed his head, clutching the charm beneath his throat.
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Marcho walked alone toward Rouma’s cell. Each step caused the floor to tremble slightly, echoing off the marble walls, subduing the unrest of the seals. When he reached the cell, the purple glow of the runes no longer shone steadily they trembled, wavering between presence and absence.
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He ordered the door opened. Two guards stood ready inside, but Marcho raised a hand.
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“Out,” he said. “I will speak with him alone.”
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When the door closed, a deathly silence filled the cell. Rouma lay on his stone bed, eyes locked onto Marcho.
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Marcho stepped closer, not lowering his axe, standing just a step away.
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“Who is coming?” he asked. “Why are the seals weakening? Speak.”
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Rouma didn’t answer. His eyes drifted to the ceiling, then back to Marcho. His smile widened.
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Marcho scowled. The runes on the walls began to crack. Even Marcho’s fury seemed to strain the seals. For a moment, he considered striking Rouma but that would only weaken the seals further.
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“Answer me,” he growled through gritted teeth.
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Rouma smiled. “Do you know your greatest fear?” he whispered. “Death, and it’s coming now and you won’t be able to stop it.”
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Marcho stepped closer. The cell had darkened.
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At that moment, one of the seals let out a groan. A rune along the wall split. Marcho instantly stepped back, remaining still. The only sound was Rouma’s breathing.
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Marcho turned toward the door. He paused for a moment then his footsteps grew twice as heavy.
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Because he felt it too.
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The chains were unraveling.
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