Chapter 31
Meanwhile, in the city of Rutria.
Jon sat still, his gaze locked onto the ball of white energy floating before him.
What did you just say? Jon asked, his voice stiff.
The orb sighed, clearly exasperated, like someone explaining a simple problem to stubborn children.
You have to leave the Kingdom of Rugraiy right now. Take your entire family with you. This kingdom is about to fall into danger.
Jon stared at the orb, openly skeptical.
He was not a superstitious man. He had never believed in bad omens, divine warnings, or strange magical tricks. But the voice carried something real, something heavy. A sincerity that made him pause despite himself.
And how do you know that? Jon asked.
The words sounded genuine, but he needed proof.
The orb glowed faintly, as if tired.
Explaining will take time. Time we do not have. So it is better if I show you.
The orb flared, turning blinding white.
Jon felt his mind pulled inward. Information flooded his consciousness. He saw how the orb was formed, the massive energy gathered around it, the soul that awakened within. But it did not stop there.
He saw the orb's memories.
Its awareness.
Its terrifying ability to peer into the future.
The first thing it saw upon gaining sentience was this.
The Kingdom of Rugraiy collapsing into chaos.
If Jon and his family stayed, they would be swallowed by it.
To force him to act faster, the orb pushed the vision directly into his mind.
Jon's stoic expression shattered.
His eyes widened as the scene unfolded before him like reality itself. Every sense screamed the same truth.
This was real.
And it was coming soon.
There is no time to waste.
Pack up. We are leaving the kingdom, Jon said sharply as he rushed outside.
His wife and daughter moved immediately, panic settling in as they began packing. Even the orb grew anxious. The future it had seen was approaching fast.
Soon, nowhere in the kingdom would be safe.
Jon ran to his nearest neighbor's house and pounded on the door.
After several knocks, a man finally opened it, clearly woken from sleep. His face twisted in annoyance.
What is it, Jon?
There is danger coming. Pack your things and leave the kingdom immediately. Do it for your family, Jon said urgently.
The man glanced around the silent street. The air was calm. No alarms. No war drums. No signs of danger.
You are being annoying. Go home and get some sleep, he said before slamming the door shut.
Jon knocked again, harder.
Please. Leave now. They will be here soon, he said through the door.
No response.
Jon moved on to the next house.
The same scene repeated.
He went from door to door, warning them, pleading with them. Every time, he was met with disbelief. Some laughed. Some cursed him. Others slammed their doors in his face, calling him a madman.
No one listened.
Not a single one.
Jon did not relax or waver despite the lack of interest.
He tried again. And again.
He begged. He warned. He pleaded for anyone to listen. Anyone at all.
After several minutes with no response, Jon finally headed back home.
His pregnant wife and his daughter, who shared the same green hair as him, were already loading their belongings into the carriage.
The horse was saddled and ready. Everything was prepared to leave before whatever disaster was coming could reach them.
Jon stared at the ground and clenched his fist.
I failed, he muttered.
Guilt ate at him from the inside. All those people would die. And why? Because he was not convincing enough.
No. You did not fail, the white orb said calmly.
You tried your best to warn them. You showed them the danger that was coming. They chose not to listen. Whatever happens next is not your fault.
Do not let guilt rot you from the inside. We need to hurry.
Jon nodded slowly.
The orb was right.
He had tried.
He had warned everyone he could.
But then a thought struck him.
Wait.
My friends.
Callack.
And his wife, Selene.
They lived in the neighboring city.
Jon's eyes sharpened. The distance was not too far. With enough speed, he could reach them within minutes.
I have to get to them, Jon said under his breath. I have to warn them.
He rushed toward the horse, preparing to ride out and find Callack before it was too late.
An irritated sigh sounded beside him.
The orb floated closer, its glow dim.
Your time is running out, I am afraid. You must choose.
The safety of your family, or the safety of your friends. If you leave now, I assure you your family will not make it. They will be caught in the coming disaster. There will be no rescuing them.
Jon froze.
His grip tightened.
If he left now with his family, they would likely survive.
But his friends would die.
If he went to Callack instead, his wife and newborn child would be lost.
Either choice would carve guilt into his soul.
He could not accept either outcome.
Minutes passed in silence.
Then Jon moved.
He grabbed a piece of paper and wrote everything he needed to say. Every warning. Every detail. Every ounce of urgency he would have spoken in person.
He folded it, placed it inside a small case, and tied it to the leg of a bird.
Fly. Get to him. And get there fast, Jon said as he released it.
The bird took off toward the neighboring city where Callack lived.
I am sorry, Callack. This is all I can do for now. I hope it reaches you in time, Jon whispered through clenched teeth.
He mounted the horse and snapped the reins.
The carriage surged forward, racing away from the city as fast as the horse could carry them.
Jon felt it.
Ever since receiving the vision, the danger had been closing in faster and faster.
Time was running out.
And if he was not fast enough, everything would end here.
As Jon ran through the narrow forest paths and tight alleys, a dark thought clawed at his mind.
What if something happened to the bird.
What if the message never reached Callack. What if it arrived too late.
That would be catastrophic.
He clenched his teeth and shook his head. No. He was overthinking. Something like that would never happen. The bird was fast. Trained. Reliable. This fear was just his nerves tearing him apart.
What Jon did not know was that the moment Vastro became involved, the realm itself began to move.
The realm wanted him dead.
Immediately.
The impossible was no longer impossible.
The bird did not make it far.
An arrow pierced straight through its skull. The body dropped from the sky, feathers scattering as it hit the ground. A hunter retrieved it, roasting it over a small fire. He found the note, skimmed it once, and snorted.
"Pathetic child prank," he muttered, tossing the paper into the flames.
Elsewhere.
Vastro, newly named Rayden, could not shake the uneasiness crawling through him. The feeling was heavy. Suffocating.
Something terrible was coming. The survival quest appearing the moment he was born, mixed with the nightmare still echoing in his mind, pointed to one truth.
Danger was already here.
Baby Vastro stared through the window at the crimson moon hanging in the sky. His gaze shifted, thoughts wild despite his fragile body.
So the remnant was right. I just arrived and death is already looking for me.
He sighed internally.
Could this day get any worse.
The moment the thought crossed his mind, dread tightened around his heart.
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Right in the city of Rutrial, the royal army burst through the gates. Doors were kicked in. Families were dragged into the streets by force, screams tearing through the air.
"The king has issued the Purge Decree," the soldiers announced coldly. "All children either newborn or within five years of age are to be executed. Any who resist will be branded enemies of the crown and killed."
Disbelief froze the faces of the people.
Then the soldiers moved.
Children were slaughtered before they could even react, their small bodies hitting the ground in lifeless thuds. Parents who tried to fight back were cut down beside them, blood soaking the streets as screams turned into silence.
The man Jon had warned stood trembling, clutching his four year old son. His eyes were filled with agony, hatred, and regret.
Why did I not listen.
If I had listened, this would not have happened.
What is even happening. The answer, no one knows.
Once that section of the city was cleared, the soldiers marched on. Their boots echoed with force, swords and armor dripping with the blood of children.
The purge was spreading.
The slaughter had only just begun.
To be continued…