The Dawn

Chapter Seven.

Him.

Kaelith Rathmor sat in the grand hall of his darkened fortress, the cold stone walls echoing with the distant howl of the wind. He had grown accustomed to the silence, to the way the shadows clung to every corner, but today, there was an odd sense of anticipation in the air. Something was coming. Or rather, someone.

His mind wandered back to the woods, to the woman he had encountered there not so long ago. She had been a curious mix of defiance and desperation, her eyes bright with a determination he hadn't seen in years. There had been something familiar about her, something that tugged at a long-buried memory, but he had dismissed it at the time. People came to him for all sorts of reasons, most of them desperate, most of them willing to do anything for a fraction of the power he held.

But she had been different. She hadn't grovelled or pleaded; instead, she had stood her ground, a fire in her eyes that had sparked something within him, a memory, perhaps, or something else entirely. And now, as he sat in the gloom of his hall, he found himself thinking of her more than he cared to admit.

The doors creaked open, and Kaelith's gaze shifted toward the entrance. A figure stepped into the hall, her form silhouetted against the pale light filtering through the high windows. He leaned forward slightly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he recognized her. The woman from the woods. She had come to find him.

"Well, well," he drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "If it isn't the lost little lamb. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

She hesitated for a moment, her eyes scanning the room before they landed on him. There was no fear in her gaze, only that same determination he had seen before. Interesting.

"I need your help," she said, her voice steady, though he could detect a hint of reluctance beneath the surface.

"Do you now?" He raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair with a lazy, almost bored expression. "And what makes you think I'd be interested in helping you?"

She squared her shoulders, refusing to back down. "Because you're not the kind of man who does anything without a reason. If you help me, there will be something in it for you."

Kaelith let out a low chuckle. "You presume to know me, then? How intriguing." He rose from his chair, his movements slow and deliberate, like a predator circling its prey. "But tell me, what exactly do you think you have that could possibly interest me?"

Her jaw tightened, and for a moment, he thought she might falter. But she surprised him again, lifting her chin and meeting his gaze head-on.

"Information. I have access to knowledge that you might find valuable," she said, her voice unwavering. "But you'll have to help me first."

Kaelith stopped a few paces from her, studying her closely. She was a striking woman, with a fierce beauty that was only enhanced by her stubbornness. He could see the tension in her posture, the way she held herself as if ready for a fight. But beneath it all, he could also see the fear she was trying so hard to conceal. It was fascinating.

"And what kind of knowledge would that be?" he asked, his tone mocking, though his curiosity was piqued.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, as if debating how much to reveal. "That depends on how willing you are to help me."

He chuckled again, a dark, humorless sound. "So, it's to be a game of secrets, then? How delightful. But you see, my dear, I don't play games unless I know I'm going to win."

"Who says you won't?" she countered, her voice sharp. "I came here because I know you're the only one who can help me. But if you're not interested..." She made a move to turn, but he was quicker.