The Chronicles of Onyx Book Two - Fight of a Hero

Chapter Three

Sunlight bathed the world in blinding rays of pure white, disturbing the lingering shadows of the night. Rok stirred, awakened by the intrusive touch of morning's light seeping through his closed eyelids. The day was still young, though not as much as he had hoped. Beside him, he felt only the emptiness, a void where Onyx's presence should have been.

He released a deep sigh through his nostrils, his brown eyes narrowing as a cacophony of thoughts buzzed in his mind. His mind had become a loud place, were only worry and fear resounded within his head like a relentless headache. Onyx was no longer confined, her power unleashed, unshackled, and free. There was nothing to constrain her any longer, nothing to hold her back, and that was what he feared the most.

What would she do with her new freedom? Would she abuse it? What would she do with her power?

These were the questions that encircled his mind repeatedly, never granting any silence from the voices. Even as he slept, his dreams filled with the fear of Onyx turning, becoming far worse than the enemy. Endlessly haunted by the specter of Onyx veering away from the light, embracing a darker, more uncertain path.

With a groan, he sat up, rubbing his temples, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him like a heavy boulder. He needed to find Onyx, to be there for her, to guide her. Even if she wouldn't listen now, he believed she would come to her senses, eventually.

"Aye, yer finally up, lad?" His head snapped up as he heard a raspy grumble by the doorway of the small shack.

Rok's gaze settled on the rugged figure of Oldren, his bright blue eyes boring onto Rok with judgment. The dwarf's piercing scrutiny radiating like an unspoken challenge. The dwarf's auburn beard was tightly breaded into two large braids, with iron beads adorning the ends of each one.

Rok sighed and nodded, his fatigue evident. "Yes," he answered groggily, scratching the back of his head. "What brings you here Dwarf?"

Oldren's gruff features became harder as he hobbled further into the small, dimly lit shack. His heavy boots echoed with each step on the wooden floor. With his flask in hand he pulled a wooden stool from a dim corner, the screeching of the legs against the floor filling the cramped space. With an air of satisfaction, he settled into the stool, his broad frame taking up most of the available space. "Ye've got the look of a burdened man," he observed.

Rok let out a slow, weary breath, his face etched with new lines that had not been there until recently. "Is there a particular reason for your visit, Oldren?" he inquired with a dry tone, his weary brown eyes reflecting the weight of his concerns.

The dwarf's bushy eyebrows shot up, and his gaze bore even deeper into Rok. "Aye, ye've been moping about, hardly saying a word. And every time I lay eyes on ya, it's as if you've taken on the likeness of meself," he took a quick swig from his flask, "And let's be honest, I'm no beauty, heh."

"Have you seen Onyx?" Rok blurted.

Oldren leaned forward, his bright eyes narrowing as he regarded Rok's anxious expression. "Aye, I've seen the lass," he replied gruffly, "But she was in a right hurry, headin' towards the border of the forest, she was. Looked like she had a storm brewin' in her eyes, like she was chasin' somethin' other than her shadow."

Rok's heart quickened at the news. "What direction, Oldren?" Rok asked urgently, his voice tinged with concern.

"East," he replied slowly, "But before ya go chasin' after her, I sent Jade after her,"

Rok's worry deepened at the mention of Jade. "Jade?" he repeated his brows furrowing. "Jade? You sent him after Onyx alone?" His tone was filled with a mix of worry and frustration.

Oldren leaned back in his stool, his expression unyielding. "Aye, I did. The boy wanted to help, and I reckoned she could use a familiar face around her. I also figured you could use the rest."

Rok's head shook as he buried his head in the palm of his hand. A hurricane of thoughts swirling his mind like a relentless storm. 

"The boy stands no chance against her strong will"

Rok suddenly bolted to his feet, his chair scraping loudly against the wooden floor.

Oldren, his sharp eyes widening, leaned forward, his weathered face etched with concern. "Where are you going?"

Rok's determination blazed like a wildfire in his eyes as he responded firmly, "To go after her."