Chapter 8

In the past few weeks, something had changed in the streets of Glelrun.

Crime had suddenly, noticeably decreased. There were fewer thefts and swindles in the city. But it wasn’t the usual Guardian patrols that brought this change.

It was Kierg.

Everyone had heard the stories. Thieves and troublemakers vanished into the night, only to be found the next day, injured and beaten. Some were badly hurt, others learned for life that it was better not to return. The stories spread quickly, and with them came something else.

A strange, oppressive fear.

People walking the dark streets no longer dared to speak loudly. Some didn’t even whisper his name. Kierg’s figure had become a nightmare, someone who could be anywhere, at any time, impossible to predict when he might intervene.

One day, as Vyth was passing through the marketplace, he caught the sound of a quiet conversation. Two merchants stood behind their stalls, arranging their goods while whispering hastily, almost as if hiding their words.

"I can’t decide what I’d do if I ran into him." said one, an older, broad-shouldered man. "Would he protect me... or crush me if he’s in a bad mood?"

The other, a younger and thinner merchant, nodded nervously. "Exactly. He’s like a storm. He cleans the streets, but he could sweep you away just as easily."

Vyth walked past them, but their words followed him. The doubt, the uncertainty. The fear that Kierg’s very existence brought.

He didn’t like what he heard, yet he was forced to admit that the people of Glelrun had reason to feel that way. Kierg had indeed crossed that invisible line.

As he continued across the square, Vyth felt more and more that Glelrun was no longer the place he once knew. And he had no idea if it ever would be again.

Vyth kept hearing more and more rumors. Fragments of conversations at the training grounds, whispers between the quarters. Kierg had been seen at night. At the docks, near the edge of the poor district. In places where the Guardians rarely appeared, and when they did, they never stayed long.

One morning, as Vyth was fastening his armor, a young Guardian approached him. Nervous, but clearly wanting to speak.

"Vyth..." he began quietly. "Last night I was on duty at the southern gate. Around midnight. And I saw someone moving across the rooftops. At first I thought it was a thief. But then I saw the cloak. That dark one, with the red lining. Like... Kierg’s."

Vyth looked at him but said nothing. The Guardian continued.

"He didn’t do anything. Just watched. Then disappeared toward the docks."

Later, another Guardian reported something similar. They had collected the belongings of a criminal from one of the alleys in the poor district, but the man himself was nowhere to be found. Blood on the ground, a cracked blade, and a burned mark showed that something had happened. Yet no one had reported anything.

By the end of the day, one question kept echoing in Vyth’s mind.

What was Kierg doing at night?

The stories all began to point in the same direction. Suspicious figures had vanished. The kind everyone knew caused trouble, yet no one dared to confront.

Now they were gone.

No witnesses, no reports, nothing. Only traces. And fear.

The square was crowded, as it always was in the afternoon. Merchants shouted to one another, children ran between the stalls, and life pulsed through the air as usual. Then something happened.

A body fell from one of the walls surrounding the square, hitting the stone pavement with a heavy thud. The sound silenced the entire area in an instant.

The man who had fallen barely moved. His ribs were clearly broken, and he tried to shield himself with his arms while gasping for breath. Some people screamed, others stepped back, but no one dared to approach. No one dared to help.

At the top of the wall, a tall figure appeared. Kierg.

He descended the steps slowly, soundlessly. His face remained in shadow, but his red eyes burned with a terrifying light in the daylight.

He stopped above the fallen man, who trembled as he tried to crawl away.

"This is still less than what you deserve." Kierg said quietly.

The man was known. A notorious thief who had escaped justice for years. There was no pity on the faces of the people, but fear trembled in their eyes.

Vyth stood at the edge of the crowd, motionless. He had seen the fall, heard the words. And he didn’t want to believe what he was seeing.

Once, Amarah would never have done this. He would not have humiliated anyone before the crowd. He would not have thrown a man down like prey before the people just to make them fear him. Back then, he wanted to stop them, not to terrify.

Now, the square was not only silent, but frozen. The people’s gazes no longer carried signs of gratitude or respect. There was only fear. Deep, quiet fear.

And in Vyth’s heart, for the first time, a question flickered, one he had never dared to ask before. Was Kierg still fighting... or merely hunting?

The next evening, Vyth found Kierg near one of the guard posts by the city wall. Kierg was sitting against the wall, his arms crossed, his empty gaze fixed on the darkness ahead.

Vyth approached quietly, then stopped beside him.

"Half the city was talking about you again today." he said softly as he came to a halt.

Kierg didn’t move, but he answered.

"Then at least they know I’m watching."

Vyth sighed. "This isn’t the way to do it."

"Why not?" Kierg turned his head toward him. His voice wasn’t angry, but calm, as if he had already thought it all through a hundred times before.

"In the past, we didn’t keep order through fear. People listened to us not because they were afraid, but because they trusted us. They trusted you too." Vyth’s tone was quiet but firm.

"And where did that trust lead us?" Kierg asked. "When someone does wrong, they must be stopped."

"Not humiliated. Not crushed. This isn’t the path we once walked together. What you did wasn’t justice. It was intimidation. People don’t respect you anymore. They fear you." said Vyth.

Kierg looked at him for a moment, then spoke quietly.

"And tell me, did respect protect Glelrun from Vorgath?" His voice was calm, but cold. "They were afraid then too. Only that time, not of me."

Vyth fell silent. Then, finally, he spoke again. "What you’re doing now... this isn’t what Guardians do."

Kierg didn’t look at him. He just stared ahead.

"People don’t value mercy. Only strength. You know that as well as I do. Good intentions are never enough. Fear... works."

Vyth’s eyes darkened. "You know what’s most frightening about that? That you truly believe it."

Kierg closed his eyes. He didn’t answer.

And that was the most unsettling part.

The dusty streets of the poor district were still alive in the early evening. Children played, a few adults packed goods behind a worn-out stall, others chatted by the nearby well. The air was warm, but a strange tension seemed to hum within it.

Then, suddenly, shouting echoed through the street. Three young men came running, one of them carrying a sack on his back, stuffed with food and medicine bottles.

They didn’t get far.

Kierg stepped out from a narrow alley to block their path. The boys froze. One tried to back away, but Kierg leapt forward in an instant, grabbing the boy’s collar. The young thief fell to the ground, and Kierg stepped beside him, pressing a hand on his shoulder.

"Where are the others?" he asked quietly.

The boy trembled. He didn’t answer.

"Where?" Kierg asked again, pressing down harder this time. The stones tore into the boy’s palm, but Kierg’s expression didn’t change.

The other two thieves tried to run, but a dark aura flared in Kierg’s hand. He didn’t move, just looked at them, and they froze as if the shadows themselves were holding them in place.

The people watched in silence. Children hid behind their mothers’ skirts. Men clenched their fists without a word. No one spoke. They only watched.

Kierg leaned closer to the boy on the ground, who was already crying.

"If you don’t speak now, I’ll break your arm."

The boy shuddered. "Please... we were just hungry..."

His voice was faint. Kierg remained still.

Finally, he released him. The other two weren’t able to move until Kierg stepped back.

The next morning, the marketplace slowly filled with people. Some merchants were only beginning to unpack, others were already exchanging quiet words over their stalls. The air was heavy.

Vyth walked silently down one of the side streets. He wasn’t looking for anything. He was just listening.

In the shade of a stone bench, two women were talking. Their words weren’t meant for him, but he was close enough to hear.

"...I saw what he did to that boy. It wasn’t right."

"And if today he humiliates a thief, what happens tomorrow? What if he only thinks someone looks suspicious?"

"I don’t know... I just know I don’t feel safe anymore."

A third voice joined in.

"I’m no thief... but sometimes I’m afraid it’ll be me next."

Vyth stopped for a moment. He didn’t look at them. He didn’t say a word.

He just stood there in silence, beneath the weight of their words.

The next afternoon, the Council gathered once again. Almost everyone had taken their seats. Vyth sat down slowly, arms loosely crossed, silently observing the faces around him. Aryn stood at the central table, her expression composed, but her eyes sharp and alert.

Some exchanged quiet words, others sat in silence, but everyone was there for the same reason.

Aryn spoke first.

"I know what happened last night. And I also know that many of you have already heard about Kierg’s... methods."

"Those aren’t methods, they’re intimidation." said an elderly man. "Anyone who humiliates a person before the eyes of the people no longer protects the city. He rules over it."

Another council member nodded. "This has already gone beyond law enforcement. He crossed that line. And if we don’t stop him now, next time it may not be only thieves he questions."

"Maybe it already isn’t." muttered a woman in the corner.

Aryn slowly looked around the room. "I understand your concerns. I’ve been observing the changes as well. But everything Kierg has done so far has been in defense of this city. There is no proof that he has harmed the innocent."

"For now." the same old man replied quietly. "But how long until it’s too late?"

Another voice rose.

"We must banish him from Glelrun. He doesn’t belong here. People are afraid of him, Aryn, and you know that very well. Let him guard beyond the walls if he wishes, but he cannot remain among the people."

Aryn fell silent for a moment, her eyes fixed on the table. At last, she spoke.

"For now, we make no final decision. I serve the peace of this city, but we cannot rush to judgment. If Kierg betrays what we stand for, I will be the one to send him away myself."

Some were not satisfied. But no one protested aloud.

The meeting slowly came to an end, and the members drifted out in silence. Aryn remained alone in the chamber.

Vyth stood in the cool hallway outside the Council chamber when he heard soft footsteps approaching behind him. He turned and saw a middle-aged council member, one who usually watched the meetings in silence and rarely spoke. But now, he was walking straight toward him.

"Vyth." the man said quietly. "Do you truly believe that Amarah is still inside him?"

Vyth didn’t answer. His eyes followed the cracks in the stone floor as his thoughts drifted far away.

How many times had he stood beside Kierg when everyone else turned against him? How many times had he told himself that the one he once knew was still there, somewhere beneath it all? But now... for the first time, that certainty was beginning to falter.

How long can you keep supporting someone out of love, when that person drifts further and further from what they once believed in?

Vyth finally looked up at the man. There was no answer in his eyes.

The council member watched him for a moment, then nodded, as if the silence alone had revealed enough. Without another word, he walked away down the corridor.

Vyth remained there alone, and he knew that though his loyalty had not yet broken, doubt was already growing quietly within him.

Night slowly descended over Glelrun. At the base of the city wall, in the shadow of an old watchtower, Kierg sat with his knees drawn up, his arms folded across them, his gaze fixed on the dark, empty street. The torchlight didn’t reach this far, only the pale glow of the moon illuminated him.

Soft footsteps approached. Not hurried, but deliberate. Kierg didn’t move until the figure emerged from the half-light. It was Llyris.

"I wasn’t expecting you." Kierg said, his tone almost indifferent.

Llyris stopped in front of him and watched for a moment. "I just wanted to see if you’re all right."

A faint, tired smile crossed Kierg’s lips. "All right? That’s not something many ask me these days."

"Can’t say I’m surprised." Llyris shrugged. "From what people see of what you’re doing, there’s not much to say, except that you’re frightening them."

"And is that a problem?" Kierg glanced up at him. "Fear works. They don’t attack, they don’t rebel, they don’t take risks."

"Maybe it works." Llyris nodded. "But if everyone is afraid of you, sooner or later there will be no one left to stand beside you. Then you’re no longer a Guardian, only the shadow of what you once were."

Kierg fell silent. His gaze drifted for a moment, as if seeing something far away, a memory from a time when his name meant hope, not fear. His expression softened, but he said nothing.

"That’s all I wanted to say." Llyris said at last, and stepped away.

Kierg didn’t stop him. He just sat there in the dark, and though his face had turned grim again, something lingered in his eyes, something that didn’t belong to who he had become. Perhaps regret. Perhaps a memory. Perhaps both.

In the past weeks, Kierg had been disappearing for days at a time. No one knew where he went, and he offered no explanation. When he returned, he spoke to no one, sought out no one, he simply walked through the streets, then vanished again without a trace.

The citizens had long felt that he no longer truly belonged to Glelrun, but now his long absences stirred suspicion once more. Voices grew quieter whenever his name was mentioned, as if people feared he might somehow hear them.

"I don’t know where he goes at times like this." a woman whispered by the well as she filled her jug.

"Better that we don’t." a man replied standing behind her in line. "Only trouble comes to those who ask too many questions."

Everyone in the city felt that Kierg’s disappearances were not ordinary patrols. He didn’t move like someone guarding the city, but like someone wandering for reasons entirely his own. The uncertainty he left behind slowly wove itself through the streets of Glelrun.

No one doubted that he was still somewhere nearby. Yet more and more people believed he no longer belonged among them. And that thought alone seemed to make everyone more uneasy.

The city’s leaders had heard the rumors as well. They didn’t speak of them openly, but among themselves, they had already admitted it, this could not go on much longer.

That evening, Aryn gathered the city’s highest council. Only a few were present in the room, among them Vyth, who stood near the entrance, his back against the cold wall.

Aryn did not speak right away. Her gaze moved slowly across the faces before her, as if weighing how prepared each of them was for the conversation ahead. Outside, faint footsteps echoed down the corridor, then faded into silence.

"We can’t wait any longer." she finally said, her voice quiet but firm. "A decision has to be made."

No one moved. The room sank into tense silence, as though everyone sensed that what they decided tonight would shape the days to come. Vyth’s eyes were fixed on Aryn, but he also remained silent. Only the soft crackle of the torches broke the stillness, as the weight of the coming decision settled over them all.