Chapter 15: Village Below the Mist III

Chapter 15: 15: Village Below the Mist III --- John did not answer with words. He took the blade in both hands, turned toward a weathered stone pillar resting near the rear of the temple wall, and moved forward without ceremony. There was no anger in his step. No flair. Just a calm certainty. He raised the weapon overhead. The forge light flickered across its void marked surface. Then he brought it down. The sword cut through the pillar like a whisper. There was no sound. No clang. No ring of impact. Just a smooth passage of the edge through solid stone. For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then the upper half of the pillar slid diagonally, almost delicately, and collapsed onto the floor. Thud! Dust burst into the air. A gray plume drifted up toward the ceiling. Chips of stone rolled across the ground. The severed edge of the pillar remained smooth, polished by the sharpness of the void infused blade. Sera stared at the broken column, her eyes wide with quiet awe. She stepped closer, traced her fingers through the falling dust, and let out a slow breath. "I see." John turned away from the ruins and returned the blade to the forge table. The metal hissed faintly as it touched the surface, absorbing the residual heat. He looked back toward her, his voice steady. "Now do you understand why I will not kneel to nobles. Or beg to the mages who enslave others in shadowed tunnels." Sera did not look away from him. She stepped forward again, but not with submission. She did not feel threatened. She did not lower her gaze. Instead, she reached out and placed her hand lightly on his arm. "You will not find peace here. Not in this land. Not with that kind of power." She let her hand drop slowly, her voice softer now, more thoughtful. "You need more power. This weapon is impressive, but it can only match an upper Circle One mage at best. If you face someone from the lower Second Circle or middle Second Circle mage... I am afraid you will lose. No more than ten moves. And that is if they are unprepared." John did not flinch. "I know... I do not want peace." He turned toward the doorway of the temple. Pale moonlight spilled through the cracks between the old wooden doors, casting thin silver lines across the stone. "I want change." He stepped toward the light. "I will become stronger. I will change this world. And you haven’t even seen my magic yet." The words hung in the air like a promise. Sera said nothing. She studied his back for a long moment, then turned and slipped into the temple shadows without another word. But she did not go far. The inner hallway of the temple was narrow, its stone walls still warm from the forge’s. Candlelight flickered faintly against the curved murals above. She stopped near the small alcove where the prayer scrolls were kept, letting her breath settle as she leaned a hand against the cool stone. Moments later, she heard his footsteps. John entered without hesitation. His shadow stretched ahead of him, tall and still laced with the faint glow of void light that lingered around his skin. "You followed," she said quietly. "You did not go far," he replied. She turned to face him fully. "I did not expect you to speak so boldly, Do you need something from me? " "That’s why I’m here now," John said. "To ask." She folded her arms. "For what, exactly?" "A place to live. A foundation. I want land to build a home. A forge. A place I can begin." "And you want me to ask the villagers?" "Yes. I want you to gather all the villagers." Sera tilted her head. "Why here? Why didn’t you choose to build your home in another place?" John smiled faintly, his gaze steady. "Because of you." She blinked. "Wha... what? Because of... me?" "You are calm. You are respected. And I find you very pleasing to my eyes." That last sentence struck like a spark in dry wood. Sera’s mouth opened slightly. She turned her face to the side, hiding the warmth rising in her cheeks. Her voice came a moment late. "I... see." She took a breath, forcing her tone back into control. "I am a priestess. I can touch a man’s arm and speak to him with clarity. But I can’t get loved by a man. What if he proposed? What if he asked me to stand beside him, not as a village voice, but as something more?" She turned those thoughts inward before they could betray her expression. "He looks alright. More than alright. Tall. Confidence. That voice could charm a lioness if he wanted. But I... I vowed to serve God. I never considered this." She cleared her throat and spoke before her thoughts slipped again. "What does it mean?" His answer came without pause. Her breath caught again. John White continued. "I like how kind you are. You stood beside me when others turned away. You listened. You gave me a place to rest. That kind of strength in a world like this is rare." She felt the warmth rise again, but this time it cooled into something else. Oh. Not romantic. Not at all. It was an admiration. Respect. Nothing more. A strange tightness pressed against her ribs. "I understand," she said slowly. She looked him over once, searching for something she could not name. His eyes were calm. Steady. No hunger in them. No mischief. Just the same quiet power she had seen since he arrived. She turned her back to him and exhaled. "You are dangerous, John White." "I hope to be," he replied. Sera faced him once more. "Alright. I will help you. The people will listen if I speak. But if you lose their trust, I will not shield you." He nodded. "That’s fair." She glanced toward the temple doors, where the first rays of morning were beginning to pierce the cracks.