Chapter 86: The Presence

Chapter 86: Chapter 86: The Presence

Arin opened his eyes just before dawn broke. The air in the room was cold against his skin. His body stiffened as he sensed something. A presence. Not a sound, not a smell, but a weight pressing against the edge of his Dungeon Sense. His body froze. Not inside the room, nor even within the settlement. The floor was still beneath him, but the air felt thinner.

Arin slowly sat up. The blanket slid off his shoulders. Arene instantly sensed a change in him, her voice sharp in his mind.

"Arin?"

"Did you feel that?"

A pause. Her presence flickered.

"I felt something."

Arin got up from the bed. The wood was cold under his bare feet. "What is it?"

"I don’t know."

That answer made him more alert than any warning. Arene could usually analyze whatever his Dungeon Master Authority was picking up on. If she couldn’t identify it, then whatever it was, was something else. Something older.

Arin walked up to the window. He pulled the shutter open. The settlement was still asleep, the morning mist clinging low to the rooftops. A few elves were out already walking along the street preparing for another day of reconstruction, their breath misting in the cold, but most of the buildings were still dark.

Arin turned towards the forest. The trees were black against the grey sky. There. He sensed it again. A pressure, not of any killing intent, but a strong one nonetheless. Like standing too close to a deep drop. It pressed on his chest.

Arin grabbed his sword. The leather grip was familiar, cool.

"I’ll check it out."

Arene instantly responded. "Don’t go alone."

Arin turned to her. "You think I should wake Ayan up?"

"I think you should."

Arin let out a sigh, his breath fogging the cold air. "Fine."

With that he walked out of his room and towards Ayan’s quarters. The hallway was silent. Arin knocked twice, no response, knocked again, harder.

"Ayan?"

The door opened. Ayan was fully dressed, sword already at his waist, his eyes sharp. Not sleepy at all.

Arin stared at him. "You were awake?"

"I felt it."

Arin’s face changed. The cold in the air felt heavier now. "So you felt it too?"

Ayan nodded, looking past him toward the window. "I have been trying to pinpoint its location."

"Can you?"

"Not really."

Arin frowned. "That’s not very comforting."

"It isn’t meant to be."

Ayan walked outside. The morning air hit them, damp and heavy with the scent of pine and wet earth. "The presence is old."

"How old?" Arin asked, following him, his hand tight on his sword.

Ayan’s eyes narrowed toward the treeline. "I can not say."

They both stared towards the forest. The trees stood motionless.

"But it has something familiar about it."

"Similar?"

"Yes."

"What?"

Ayan paused, his breath slow. "Authority."

Arin looked at him. A chill ran down his spine that wasn’t from the cold.

"Dungeon Master Authority?"

"No." Ayan looked towards the trees, his jaw tight. "Something different."

Before Arin could ask, Saira appeared behind them, her steps soft on the stone path.

"You two are so bad at keeping quiet."

Arin turned to her, startled. "You felt it too?"

"I felt something." Saira’s expression darkened, her eyes scanning the forest. The wind had died completely.

"It doesn’t seem like a monster."

Ayan nodded in agreement, his hand resting on his blade.

Adnan soon arrived, then Eldran, both moving quickly despite the early hour. The Elf Chief looked at the three of them, his face grave in the pale light.

"So you all felt it."

Arin nodded, his mouth dry.

Eldran’s expression darkened. "Then we shouldn’t ignore it."

They all headed towards the edge of the settlement. The forest was eerie, not a single bird or bug was making a sound. Even the wind seemed to be holding its breath. The mist between the trunks was thick and unmoving. Their footsteps were too loud.

Arin activated Dungeon Sense. The world around him shifted, the air thrumming. He could feel the trees, the ground, the roots underneath, the cold stone remnants of the ancient Elven Dungeon, then something appeared at the edge of his senses. A weight, standing still.

A figure.

Arin instantly turned around, his heart hammering.

"I found it."

Everyone looked in the direction he was facing. A figure stood a few meters behind some trees. Too far to see who or what it was, but it was tall and still. The shadows clung to it.

Ayan stepped closer, his voice low. "Stay behind me."

Arin complied, his sword now half-drawn, the metal cold.

The figure took a step closer then another. Leaves rustled under its feet. Gradually the figure came out of the shadows. It was an old elf, his hair was white and he wore simple dark robes, no weapons could be seen. His skin was lined like bark. An overwhelming sense of power came from the old elf, a pressure that made the air vibrate, but he was not aggressive. His hands were empty, open at his sides.

When the old elf stopped, a few meters away from them he looked at Arin then Ayan. His pale eyes widened slightly, catching the dawn light.

"You..."

Ayan’s expression changed, his body tensing. "You know me?"

The old elf looked away from Ayan. His gaze settled on Arin, heavy and ancient.

"The Dungeon Master."

Arin’s grip tightened on his sword, knuckles white. "Who are you?"

The old elf smiled, a small, tired smile. "My name is not important."

Saira frowned, her magic faintly crackling at her fingertips. "Then why are you here?"

The elf stared at the settlement, at the half-rebuilt houses. "I came because I felt something."

"Something?"

"The awakening."

Arin’s Dungeon Master Mark began to glow. A faint heat spread across his hand, pulsing against his skin. The old elf’s eyes went to the glowing mark, and the light reflected in them.

"You truly have it."

Arin frowned. "Have what?"

"The Mark."

Ayan stepped forward, his voice edged. "How do you know about the Dungeon Master Mark?"

The old elf looked at him, his expression calm. "Because I served one."

A stunned silence followed. The forest felt even quieter.

Arin’s eyes narrowed. "One of the previous Dungeon Masters?"

The old elf shook his head, slow. "No." He looked up at the sky, where the first light was breaking. "I served a True Hero."

Arin’s mind went blank. The cold air caught in his throat.

Ayan looked uneasy, his shoulders rigid.

Saira looked confused.

Eldran’s eyes widened, his breath catching. "A True Hero?"

The old elf nodded. "I was his servant."

Arin stared at him. The name instantly clicked in his head, Caelan. The records stated that he was an apprentice of the Dungeon Master and a servant of the True Hero, the masked man had been a soldier assigned to the True Hero.

Arin’s heart beat quicker, loud in his ears. "Which True Hero?"

The old elf looked at him, his gaze deep. "You have already seen one of his servants."

Arin’s eyes widened, his pulse thudding. "The masked man."

The old elf smiled. "So you have met him."

Ayan’s expression hardened, his hand tightening on his weapon. "Where?"

"I did not say that I met him."

"You said we had seen him."

"That is enough."

Ayan took another step forward, boots crunching on frost. The old elf did not move, didn’t blink.

Arin stopped him, a hand on his arm. "Wait."

He looked back at the old elf, his own voice low. "You know Caelan."

The elf’s smile faded, the lines in his face deepening. "I know of him."

"Was he really an apprentice of a Dungeon Master?"

"Yes."

Arin’s face changed, his throat tight. "And the masked man?"

The old elf looked towards the forest, as if listening to something far away. "He was a soldier."

"For the True Hero?"

"Yes."

Arin’s mind raced, the records stated that fact, but what really bothered him was that there was something else. He could sense the old elf’s power, it was overwhelming, like standing before a storm, but there was also no intent to harm them. No killing intent at all. Just presence.

The old elf looked at Arin. "You have many questions."

"You’re damn right."

The old elf chuckled, a dry sound. "Then ask."

Without hesitation, Arin asked the question that had bugged him the most. "Who was the True Hero?"

The old elf’s expression changed, for the first time he looked genuinely troubled. His eyes clouded.

"I cannot tell you."

"Why?"

"Because his name is not something that should be said lightly."

Arin frowned, the frustration hot in his chest. "That doesn’t make any sense."

"It will."

The old elf looked towards the distant woods. The mist began to shift around him.

"The Hero’s servants were given duties."

"What duties?"

"Some were given the duty to protect."

"Others?"

"To watch."

Arin’s eyes narrowed. The mark on his hand pulsed hotter. "And you?"

The old elf looked directly at him, his gaze piercing. "I was given a different duty."

"What?"

The old elf smiled, faint and sad. "To recognize when the next Dungeon Master appeared."

Arin’s expression changed, the air leaving his lungs.

Arene suddenly spoke in his mind, her voice tense. "Arin."

"What?"

"I don’t think he’s lying."

Arin looked back at the old elf. The pressure around him suddenly increased, the leaves on the ground trembling, the bark on the trees creaking. The old elf took a step forward, the pressure spread throughout the forest, every elf around them felt it, a heavy wave that made their knees want to buckle. Ayan’s hand moved towards his weapon, Saira prepared her magic, the air around her hands shimmering, Adnan put his hand on his sword, Eldran remained silent, but the old elf did not attack, instead he bowed, not deeply, only enough to show respect, his robes rustling.

"My duty has been fulfilled."

Arin stared at him, his ears ringing. "What does that mean?"

The old elf stood straight, his eyes calm again. "It means I have found you."

Then the pressure was gone, like a held breath released. The forest came back to life, birds began to sing, sudden and loud, the wind picked up and rustled the branches, and the strange presence vanished. The scent of pine returned.

Arin looked around, blinking. The old elf was gone, no trail, no sign that he had been there at all. Only flattened grass where he had stood.

Ayan looked at the woods, his hand still on his sword. "He was extremely powerful."

Arin nodded, his hand still warm from the Mark. "Yeah."

Saira looked at him, her face pale. "What do we do now?"

Arin did not answer, his eyes remained on the spot where the old elf had stood, on the empty air that still felt warm.

Arene spoke up. "Arin."

"Yeah?"

"There is something you should know."

"What?"

"I don’t think that man came here to investigate Caelan."

Arin frowned. "Then why?"

Arene paused. "Because he was looking for you."

Arin’s expression hardened, his jaw tight. Caelan had once been a servant of a True Hero, the masked man had also been one of that Hero’s soldiers, and now another servant of the same Hero had appeared, this one not to attack or warn them but simply to confirm that Arin existed.

Arin looked towards the forest, where the mist was now moving again.

"Why would a servant of a True Hero be looking for a Dungeon Master after ten thousand years?"

No one answered, but somewhere in the Elf Lands, something ancient was beginning to stir.