Blade institute: the unseen prophecy

21

As the fire crackled softly between them, the weight of the mission and the long night ahead settled into the silence. Evangeline's thoughts drifted, partly due to exhaustion and partly due to the lingering remnants of their earlier conversation. Rian had been surprisingly open, at least by his standards, and that left her with a strange sense of curiosity she couldn't shake.

She glanced at him across the fire, his face partially illuminated by the dancing flames. There was a hardness to his expression that she recognized all too well—the kind that came from carrying burdens too heavy to share. Evangeline had her share of secrets and scars, but something in Rian's eyes told her that he, too, was haunted by a past he couldn't outrun.

It took her a few moments to summon the courage, but eventually, she spoke, her voice soft and tentative. "Rian... can I ask you something?"

He looked up, his brow furrowing slightly. "Depends on what it is."

She hesitated, unsure if she was crossing a line, but the words slipped out before she could stop them. "Your brother... I heard some things, but I never really knew the full story. What happened?"

The air seemed to grow colder as the question hung between them. Rian's expression hardened, the slight vulnerability he'd shown earlier vanishing as his gaze darkened. For a moment, Evangeline thought he might not answer, that he'd shut her out completely.

But then he sighed, a sound filled with a weariness that went beyond physical exhaustion. He turned his gaze back to the fire, the flames reflecting in his eyes as he spoke, his voice low and strained.

"His name was Liam," Rian began, the name slipping from his lips like a long-buried memory. "He was the best of us—strong, smart, kind. Everything a brother could hope to be. I looked up to him... hell, we all did."

Evangeline listened quietly, the crackling of the fire the only other sound in the night. Rian's voice, though steady, carried a heavy weight, and she could see the struggle in his eyes as he continued.

"He was a gifted warrior, but he had a darkness in him, one that none of us saw until it was too late. It started small, just... anger, frustration. But it grew. He became more reckless, more detached. We thought he was just pushing himself too hard, trying to live up to some impossible standard."

Rian paused, his jaw tightening as he wrestled with the memories. "But it wasn't just that. Something else was taking hold of him, something that we didn't understand at the time. By the time we realized what was happening, it was too late. He'd already made a pact with the demons. They promised him power—power to protect us, to protect those he loved. He thought he could control it, that he could use their power without losing himself."

Evangeline felt a chill run down her spine, the story far too familiar to the kinds of horrors she'd been trained to fight against. "But he couldn't," she whispered, more a statement than a question.

Rian shook his head, his eyes distant, lost in the past. "No, he couldn't. The demons consumed him, twisted him into something unrecognizable. He became one of them—a monster. And then... he turned on us."

Evangeline's breath caught in her throat, the weight of his words pressing down on her. "Your family..."

Rian's voice was flat, devoid of emotion, as if he'd told himself this story so many times that it had become detached from the pain. "He slaughtered them. Our parents, our little sister... everyone. I was the only one who survived. And I only did because I ran. I ran like a coward while Liam butchered them."

His hands clenched into fists, the muscles in his arms taut as he struggled to contain the emotions simmering beneath the surface. "I've spent every day since trying to make up for that, trying to become strong enough so that I can destroy the thing he became. I owe them that much."

Evangeline felt a pang of empathy, her heart aching for the pain he must have carried for so long. She knew what it was like to be haunted by the past, to carry guilt and anger that never seemed to fade. "Rian... it wasn't your fault," she said softly, unsure if her words could even reach him.

He didn't respond immediately, his eyes still fixed on the fire. When he finally spoke, his voice was hollow, as if he didn't quite believe the words he was saying. "Maybe. But that doesn't change what happened."

The cold night air seemed to close in on them, the warmth of the fire doing little to chase away the chill that settled in Evangeline's bones. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to stave off the shivers that crept up her spine.

Noticing her discomfort, Rian looked at her, his expression softening just slightly. Without a word, he stood and shrugged off his jacket, crossing the small distance between them. He draped it over her shoulders, the weight of it comforting, its warmth seeping into her skin.

"Here," he said gruffly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You need it more than I do."

Evangeline looked up at him, surprised by the gesture. There was something unexpectedly gentle in the way he'd offered his jacket, a kindness she hadn't expected from someone so hardened by pain. She pulled the jacket tighter around herself, grateful not just for the warmth but for the small act of care.

"Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Rian sat back down across from her, his eyes briefly meeting hers before he turned his gaze back to the fire. "Don't mention it," he said, his tone neutral but not unkind.

The silence that followed was thick with unspoken emotions, but it was no longer uncomfortable. There was a sense of understanding between them now, a shared experience of loss and pain that bridged the gap that had once seemed insurmountable.

As they sat by the fire, wrapped in the darkness of the forest, Evangeline found herself feeling a strange sense of connection to Rian, something she hadn't expected when the day began. She realized that they were more alike than she'd ever imagined—both of them haunted by the ghosts of their pasts, both of them struggling to find a way to move forward despite the scars they carried