The storm still hadn't let up. If anything, it had only grown more insistent, the wind howling like some unseen beast clawing at the village with reckless fury. The rain hammered against the broken church's walls in a steady, ceaseless rhythm, and the occasional flash of lightning illuminated the uneasy faces of those seeking refuge within.
Aelius remained where he had been for hours, leaning casually against the shattered doorway, arms crossed over his chest. His gaze swept over the storm as if he were expecting it to blink first in their unspoken staring contest. His cloak billowed slightly from the gusts that sneaked through the ruined entrance, but if the cold bothered him, he gave no sign.
The sound of approaching footsteps made him shift his head slightly. He didn't need to look to know someone was coming. The measured pace, light yet deliberate, wasn't one of the prince's guards.
"Master Mask," a voice called in a monotone, completely unbothered by the absurdity of the name. "The prince inquires if you require anything."
Aelius finally turned, raising an eyebrow as he took in the pink-haired maid standing before him. Dressed in the standard uniform of the castle staff, she stood at perfect attention, hands clasped before her, posture impeccable. Her expression remained neutral, though there was something oddly expectant about the way she looked at him like she was waiting for a command.
Aelius blinked, then let out a small snort. "Master Mask? Seriously?"
"Yes," she replied without hesitation. "Would you prefer a different title?"
Aelius tilted his head, considering. "Grand Duke of Plague? Lord of Overdramatic Weather? Maybe just 'Aelius'?"
She nodded once. "Master Mask it is."
He let out a sigh, though amusement flickered behind his eyes. "Should've seen that coming."
"The prince has requested I check on you," she continued, her tone as flat as ever. "You have not moved from this spot in hours. Do you require sustenance? A drink? A shovel?"
Aelius, who had been nodding along until the last part, paused. "A shovel?"
"To dig a hole and lie in it," she answered, utterly serious. "You appear in need of rest."
A short bark of laughter escaped him before he could stop it. "That's an interesting way of offering a nap. What do you do if someone says yes?"
"Dig the hole for them," she replied smoothly.
Aelius shook his head, chuckling. "Appreciate the offer, but I'll pass. Hard to keep an eye on the ominous doom clouds from underground." He gestured toward the storm. "And I don't think it's done being dramatic just yet."
She followed his gaze for a brief moment before returning her attention to him. "Very well. I will inform the prince that you are continuing to glare at the weather."
"Be sure to tell him I'm winning," Aelius added.
"Of course." She gave a perfect curtsy before turning to leave, her posture never once slipping from flawless precision.
Aelius watched her go, shaking his head with a smirk. "Master Mask," he muttered under his breath, looking back toward the storm. "At least she's got a sense of humor."
The wind howled again, but Aelius barely noticed. His mood had lightened, just slightly. Whatever lurked beyond the storm could wait. For now, he had a title to begrudgingly accept.
The storm raged on, unrelenting in its fury, but within the broken church, the flickering glow of firelight finally fought back against the oppressive dark. It had taken hours, the damp conditions making even the simplest spark a frustrating ordeal, but at last, a small fire crackled in the center of the stone floor. Shadows danced along the crumbling walls, and the weary faces of the civilians were illuminated in its glow, pale, drawn, but no longer entirely consumed by fear.
The prince and his guards had worked tirelessly to gather what little food could be found, distributing it among the villagers in careful portions. Their efforts, while meager, had a noticeable effect. The hushed whispers of despair were giving way to quiet conversations, the occasional forced chuckle slipping through the tension like cracks in stone. It wasn't much, but it was something.
Aelius remained at his usual post, leaning against what was left of the doorway, his putrid eyes scanning the room with practiced ease. He saw everything, the way the prince's men subtly positioned themselves between the people and any remaining weak points in the structure, the way parents prioritized their children when offered food, and the way exhaustion clung to every movement like a second skin. It was survival at its most fragile.
The sound of approaching footsteps made him glance up. The prince himself was making his way over, his regal posture slightly dampened by fatigue but still present. He stopped just a few feet away, his expression as composed as ever despite the turmoil they faced.
"We finally have something warm to keep the night at bay," the prince said, motioning toward the fire. "Is there anything you require, Sir Mask?"
Aelius hummed, tapping a finger against his mask in thought before answering, "Got any alcohol?"
The prince blinked, his composed mask faltering for just a moment as he frowned. "Alcohol? Now?"
Aelius shrugged. "Figured I'd ask."
The prince exhaled sharply, his displeasure evident. "I hardly think now is the time for drinking. These people have suffered, our situation is dire, and you, " He hesitated, glancing at Aelius's relaxed stance as if debating whether he was being serious. "Are you always this flippant in the face of disaster?"
Aelius chuckled. "I'm not asking to drown my sorrows if that's what you're thinking." He turned slightly, resting one hand on his hip. "I don't get drunk. Can't, actually. My magic makes it so poison has the opposite effect on me. Strengthens me instead."
The prince's frown deepened. "Alcohol isn't exactly poison."
"To most people, sure," Aelius said, lazily gesturing with one hand. "But to me? It's about as healthy as a hot meal." His eyes glinted with amusement. "So if you happen to have a bottle lying around, I'd consider it a favor."
The prince seemed to consider this for a long moment before sighing, rubbing his temple. "You are a difficult man to understand."
"I try," Aelius smirked. "But hey, look at it this way, if something horrible comes crashing through that door in the next five minutes, wouldn't you rather have me at my best?"
The prince shook his head, muttering something under his breath before turning back towards Aelius. "I'll see what I can find. No promises."
Aelius gave him a mock salute, his voice carrying an easy amusement. "Much appreciated, Your Highness. Oh, and my name's Aelius."
The prince hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding. "Aelius," he repeated, as if committing it to memory, before turning away and making his way back to the fire.
Left alone once more, Aelius exhaled, his breath misting slightly in the cold air. He rolled his shoulders, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling in his muscles, but it was distant, secondary. His focus remained on the storm beyond the shattered doorway, its howling winds carrying something deeper than mere turbulence. A pulse, a presence. It wasn't natural. That much he was certain of.
His fingers flexed absently at his side, itching for action despite the temporary lull. Behind him, the villagers murmured softly, their voices weaving through the crackling firelight. A few children had huddled together, their exhaustion overriding their fear as they dozed against their parents' sides. The guards continued their quiet patrols, speaking in hushed tones as they planned for whatever the morning might bring if morning ever came at all.
Aelius turned his gaze upward. The storm blotted out the sky, its swirling darkness unfazed by the distant promise of dawn.
Something was still out there.
Watching.
Waiting.
And if it thought it could outlast him, it had another thing coming.
Minutes later the storm still showed no signs of relenting, its furious winds hammering against the remnants of the chapel like the relentless heartbeat of something unseen. Aelius remained near the broken doorway, watching, waiting. The eerie pulse beneath the storm had not vanished, only quieted, as though biding its time. It was almost amusing, the way it lingered just out of reach, a predator unwilling to fully commit to its attack.
The fire at the center of the room crackled, casting flickering shadows across the stone walls and illuminating the weary faces of those gathered. The civilians sat in clusters, speaking in hushed tones or simply staring into the flames, lost in thought. The guards continued their quiet patrols, but there was an unmistakable tension in their movements, subtle, but present. They, too, felt it.
A soft scuff of boots against stone signaled the prince's return before he spoke.
"You really meant it, didn't you?" His voice held a mix of curiosity and restrained skepticism. "About poison making you stronger."
Aelius didn't immediately look at him, instead keeping his eyes trained on the storm as he responded, "Why would I lie about something like that?" His tone was casual, almost amused as if the idea of fabricating such a thing was ridiculous. "Believe me, Your Highness, I'd much rather be able to enjoy a strong drink like a normal person. Would certainly make nights like these a bit more entertaining."
The prince exhaled, clearly still trying to wrap his head around the concept. "That doesn't sound like much of a blessing."
Aelius finally turned his head, his expression obscured behind the everpresent mask, though there was a hint of humor in his voice when he replied, "It's not. But it has its perks." He patted the flask at his hip. "I wouldn't recommend taking a sip, though. Not unless you'd like to experience your last drink."
The prince shook his head, crossing his arms as he regarded Aelius with open curiosity. "You're different from the mages I've encountered before."
Aelius chuckled, leaning against the stone archway. "I get that a lot."
Before the prince could respond, a small voice cut through the quiet hum of conversation.
"Mister Mask?"
Aelius turned his head slightly and found himself looking down at a small group of children who had gathered near him. Their clothes were damp and muddied from the storm, their faces tired, but their eyes held something beyond fear, curiosity.
One of the braver ones, a boy who looked no older than seven, pointed at him with wide eyes. "Are you really a wizard?"
Aelius crouched slightly, leveling his gaze with the child's, though his mask concealed any readable expression. "Depends on who you ask," he mused. "Some folks like to call me a menace."
The boy blinked. "What's a menace?"
"It means people either like me or really, really don't."
The boy frowned, considering this. "I think I like you."
A chuckle rumbled from Aelius's chest. "Well, that's a good start."
One of the other children, a girl clutching a damp wool blanket, tilted her head. "Is your face scary?"
Aelius quirked a brow behind his mask. "I don't know. What do you think?" He tapped the side of his mask. "This is my face as far as you're concerned."
The girl giggled. "It looks funny."
"Funny, huh?" Aelius pretended to think for a moment before leaning in conspiratorially. "That's a first. Most people think it makes me look mysterious."
Another child, a younger boy who had been clutching the girl's sleeve, hesitated before speaking. "Are you gonna fight the storm?"
That gave Aelius pause. He glanced briefly at the prince, who watched the interaction with an unreadable expression, before shifting his attention back to the boy.
"I might," he said after a moment. "If it picks a fight with me first."
The boy's brows furrowed. "How do you fight a storm?"
Aelius exhaled through his nose, amused by the child's persistence. "Very dramatically."
That earned a few giggles from the group, and even the prince huffed out something that might have been a laugh. The tension in the air, though still present, had softened just a fraction.
The first boy, the one who had called him "Mister Mask," tilted his head. "Are you gonna stay with us?"
Aelius's expression sobered slightly beneath his mask. He wasn't sure how to answer that. He had no reason to linger once the storm passed. And yet…
He glanced once more at the villagers, the guards, and the prince.
For now, at least, he wasn't going anywhere.
"We'll see," he finally said, ruffling the boy's hair before standing back up. "Get some rest, kid. You're gonna need it."
The boy grinned before scampering back toward the fire, the others following close behind.
The prince, arms still crossed, gave Aelius an appraising look. "I never would've taken you for someone good with children."
Aelius smirked, tilting his head. "I wouldn't say 'good.' I just know how to keep 'em entertained."
The prince shook his head, muttering something about contradictions before glancing toward the storm outside.
"You can feel it too, I imagine," the prince asked suddenly, his voice just enough to cut through the wind.
Aelius's smirk faltered for the briefest moment, but he masked his surprise quickly. His sharp gaze flicked to the prince, scrutinizing him in a way he hadn't before. The casual ease he'd adopted slipped slightly, replaced by a calculating edge.
Most people wouldn't have noticed what lurked beneath the storm, not unless they were attuned to such things. The civilians certainly hadn't. The guards, though uneasy, had chalked up their discomfort to nerves. But this prince? He had felt it. And more than that, he had recognized that Aelius had felt it too.
Aelius folded his arms, tilting his head slightly. "Now, that's interesting," he mused. "Didn't take you for the type."
The prince met his gaze evenly. "And what type is that?"
"The type who knows what a real storm feels like," Aelius said. His voice was still laced with amusement, but his words were measured now, probing. "The type who doesn't just see wind and rain, but something else underneath."
The prince didn't answer right away. His expression remained composed, but there was a shift, subtle but unmistakable. He had been careful, Aelius realized. Careful not to reveal too much. But he had slipped, if only slightly.
Aelius took a step forward, his cloak shifting with the movement. "So," he continued his tone light but pointed, "that means one of two things. Either you've spent enough time around magic to recognize it, or…" He let the word hang between them, watching the way the prince's shoulders stiffened ever so slightly.
"Or?" the prince prompted, though Aelius could tell he already knew what was coming.
Aelius's smirk returned, slow and knowing. "Or you've got a little magic in you yourself, Your Highness."
The prince exhaled through his nose, his expression unreadable. "That would be quite the scandal, wouldn't it?"
Aelius huffed out a laugh. "Oh, absolutely. Royals with magic? That's the kind of thing that gets people whispering." He studied the prince a moment longer before shaking his head. "Didn't think you had it in you."
"Neither did anyone else," the prince admitted, lowering his voice slightly. His gaze drifted back toward the civilians, ensuring they were still occupied before he spoke again. "But you're not wrong. I can feel it. Something inside that storm… it's not natural."
Aelius nodded slightly, his amusement tempered by a hint of something more serious. "No. It's not."
A beat of silence stretched between them, punctuated only by the crackle of the fire and the distant roar of the wind.
The prince sighed. "I assume you already have a theory."
Aelius tilted his head as if debating how much to say. Then, he shrugged. "A few. None of them good."
The prince grimaced. "Wonderful."
Aelius chuckled, shaking his head. "Welcome to my life, Your Highness."
For the first time since they met, the prince actually smirked. It was brief, barely there, but Aelius caught it.
Then, just as quickly, the moment was gone. The prince's expression hardened once more, his gaze shifting back to the storm. "If this isn't over…"
"It's not," Aelius confirmed easily.
The prince inhaled slowly as if bracing himself. "Then what do we do?"
Aelius cracked his neck, rolling his shoulders. "Well, if you're asking me…" He patted the flask at his hip. "I'd say we pour a drink, wait for whatever's out there to show itself, and then beat the hell out of it."
The prince sighed. "That's not a real plan."
Aelius grinned. "It's my plan."
The prince pinched the bridge of his nose. "I regret asking."
"Too late now," Aelius quipped, before turning back toward the storm. His fingers flexed slightly, sensing the magic lingering in the air. "You might want to get ready, Your Highness. Because whatever's waiting out there?"
His grin widened, though there was something sharper behind it now.
"It won't stay waiting for long."
"Well while we're waiting, care to tell me why you cover yourself?
Aelius arched a brow at the prince's question, his grin easing into something more neutral. He had expected the conversation to steer toward battle tactics, maybe more prodding about the storm's unnatural nature. But this?
This was personal.
He shifted his stance slightly, turning just enough to properly face the prince. The firelight cast flickering shadows across his mask, emphasizing its unsettling presence.
"Why I cover myself?" Aelius echoed as if tasting the words. He exhaled through his nose. "That's a bold question, Your Highness."
The prince shrugged. "We're in a broken church waiting for an unnatural storm to make its next move. Thought we had time for a little conversation." His gaze flickered across Aelius's cloak. "Unless it's some great secret."
Aelius chuckled, the sound low and amused. "Oh, it's definitely a secret." He let the words linger, letting the prince stew in his own curiosity for a moment. Then, with deliberate slowness, he tapped a gloved finger against the smooth surface of his mask. "But I suppose I can humor you."
The prince crossed his arms, watching him expectantly.
Aelius tilted his head, considering his answer. "Why do I cover myself? Because it's comfortable. Keeps people guessing. Adds to my mystique." He made a vague motion with his hand. "It's all very dramatic, don't you think?"
The prince gave him a flat look. "You're avoiding the question."
Aelius grinned. "I am answering the question. Just not in the way you want."
The prince sighed. "Fine. Why do you need people guessing?"
Aelius tapped his fingers against his arm, pretending to think. "You ever met someone who looked at you and thought they had you figured out?" His voice was casual, but there was something weighty beneath it. "Thought they knew exactly what you were capable of, what you could do, what you couldn't do?"
The prince didn't answer immediately. When he did, his voice was quieter. "Yes."
Aelius nodded. "Then you know how useful it is when people don't see everything." He spread his arms slightly. "A little mystery keeps people on their toes. And in my line of work, that's a necessity."
The prince studied him for a long moment. "That's part of it. But not all of it."
Aelius smirked. "No, it's not."
The prince frowned. "So what's the rest?"
Aelius exhaled, shaking his head. "You really don't let things go, do you?"
"Not when I think there's more to the story," the prince admitted.
Aelius was silent for a moment as if weighing his next words. Then, with a softer voice, he said, "Let's just say… some things aren't meant to be seen. Some things shouldn't be seen." He gestured vaguely to his mask. "This? It's for everyone else just as much as it's for me."
The prince's expression shifted slightly, understanding, maybe, or something close to it. He nodded once. "Fair enough."
Aelius watched him for a second longer before chuckling. "Didn't think you'd actually let it go."
The prince smirked. "I can be reasonable."
"Could've fooled me."
The prince rolled his eyes, but before he could reply, a soft shuffling interrupted their exchange.
Aelius turned just in time to see a few of the children approaching hesitantly, their wide eyes reflecting the fire's glow. They clung to each other, their tiny hands grasping at worn fabric and sleeves as they shuffled closer.
One of the braver ones, a girl with tangled curls, stepped forward. "M-Mister Mask?"
Aelius blinked, momentarily thrown off. Then, he snorted. "That's what we're going with, huh?"
The prince smirked. "I knew it would stick."
Aelius shot him a look before crouching slightly so he was closer to the children's height. "Alright, alright. What's up, kid?"
The little girl hesitated, glancing at the others before looking back at him. "You're really strong, right?"
Aelius tilted his head. "Some say that. Others say I'm just too stubborn to die."
The children looked at each other as if debating whether that was a good thing or not.
A different child, a boy with large, anxious eyes, clutched at the girl's sleeve. "C-Can you keep us safe?"
Aelius blinked. His posture relaxed slightly, but his expression softened in a way that wasn't quite visible behind his mask.
"Yeah," he said simply. "I can do that."
The children exhaled, relief washing over their small faces. Aelius barely had time to react before the little girl suddenly stepped forward and threw her arms around his waist in a quick, clumsy hug.
Aelius froze. What.
The prince coughed, clearly holding back a laugh.
The girl pulled back just as quickly, still looking nervous. "Th-Thank you, Mister Mask!"
Aelius exhaled, shaking his head in amusement. "Alright, alright. Go on, get back to your parents before they think I've stolen you."
The children giggled and scampered off, their whispers fading as they rejoined the other civilians.
The prince, meanwhile, was smirking. "Touching moment."
Aelius groaned. "Not a word."
The prince chuckled. "Oh no, I will be remembering this."
Aelius groaned theatrically, dragging a gloved hand down his mask. "Great. Just what I needed, an enduring legacy of Mister Mask, the Babysitter." He shook his head, turning his gaze back toward the storm. "Real intimidating."
The prince chuckled, leaning against the makeshift seating they had arranged near the fire. "Oh no, I think it's got a nice ring to it. Mister Mask, Slayer of Beasts, Protector of the People, " He smirked. ", Champion of Small, Adorable Children."
Aelius shot him a flat look. "You really enjoy this, don't you?"
"A little," the prince admitted, his smirk widening. "But in all seriousness, these people need something, someone, to believe in. A protector. A symbol."
Aelius huffed, shifting his weight slightly. "That what you think I am?"
"Maybe not yet," the prince said, tilting his head. "But after tonight? After what you've done?" His gaze flickered to the civilians, some still frightened, some clutching their loved ones, but most calmer than they had been. The children who had approached Aelius sat huddled together, whispering and sneaking glances his way. "I think you're well on your way."
Aelius exhaled, rolling his shoulders. "Hate to break it to you, Your Highness, but I'm not exactly the shining knight type."
The prince laughed. "No, I gathered that much." His expression turned thoughtful. "But you don't have to be a knight to be a legend. Just someone people remember."
Aelius was quiet for a moment, watching the fire flicker in the prince's eyes. The storm still howled outside, the winds rattling the stained glass above them. There was still something out there, watching, waiting, but for now, in this small pocket of firelight and warmth, the fear had lessened.
He sighed, stretching his arms behind his head. "You know, if I have to be a legend, I'd at least like a cooler name."
The prince grinned. "Too late. Mister Mask is already spreading through the ranks."
Aelius groaned again, but there was something lighter in the way he shook his head. "I swear if I hear that in another town, I will find a way to blame you."
The prince simply laughed, shaking his head as he stepped away from the fire. He moved to the other side of the ruined doorway, leaning against the weathered frame as the wind howled just beyond the threshold. His gaze shifted from the raging storm to the small figures huddled near the fire, their wide eyes occasionally flickering toward Aelius with a mix of curiosity and awe.
As if sensing his gaze, one of the children, a boy no older than eight, shuffled forward hesitantly, clutching a tattered blanket around his shoulders. He lingered a few feet away before clearing his throat. "Mister Mask?"
Aelius exhaled through his nose, tilting his head toward the prince with an I blame you look before glancing back down at the kid. "That's not my name."
The boy blinked up at him, unconvinced. "But everyone's calling you that."
Aelius crossed his arms, but there was no real frustration in his voice. "Then everyone is wrong."
Another child, a small girl with tangled curls, shuffled up beside the boy. "Are you a hero?" she asked, peering up at him with wide eyes.
Aelius let out a short laugh. "That's a strong word, kid. Let's not get carried away."
The boy frowned. "But you saved us."
"And you fight monsters," the girl added, gripping the edges of her blanket.
The prince, still leaning casually against the doorframe, gave Aelius a knowing smirk. "Sounds like hero material to me."
Aelius pinched the bridge of his nose beneath his mask. "You're not helping, Your Highness."
The boy shuffled his feet, looking determined. "I wanna be strong like you when I grow up."
Aelius raised a brow. "Oh yeah? You want to be covered in filth, drink poison, and scare villagers just by walking into town?"
The boy hesitated. "Well… maybe not all of that."
The prince chuckled, watching the exchange with amusement. "You are pretty terrifying. It's a strong selling point."
The girl frowned in thought before perking up. "Then… if you're not a hero, are you a knight?"
Aelius tilted his head slightly. "Do I look like a knight to you?"
The boy squinted at him, eyes scanning over the ragged cloak, the eerie mask, and the strange dark gloves on his arms. He hesitated before shaking his head. "No. Not really."
Aelius clapped his hands together. "Exactly. So let's go with something easier, like the mysterious wandering guy who happens to be in the right place at the right time."
The prince scoffed. "That doesn't exactly roll off the tongue."
"Not my problem," Aelius deadpanned.
The children giggled, their earlier fear momentarily forgotten as they inched closer to the fire, now more comfortable in his presence.
The prince watched them for a moment before speaking again, quieter this time. "You don't have to be a hero, you know."
Aelius glanced at him.
The prince's expression was unreadable, the fire casting flickering shadows across his face. "Sometimes, just being here is enough."
Aelius held his gaze for a moment before exhaling, shaking his head. "Great. Now you're getting sentimental."
The prince smirked. "Can't help it. Comes with the title."
"Don't trust such a thing," Aelius said, his tone quieter now, edged with something unreadable. "Titles never tend to mean what people think they do."
The prince tilted his head, his smirk fading slightly. "Oh? And what does your title mean, then?"
Aelius let out a short chuckle, though it lacked humor. "Which one?" He gestured vaguely. "Slayer? Wanderer? Monster? Babysitter?" He shot a glance toward the kids, who were still lingering nearby, hanging on to every word. "Or perhaps Mister Mask, slayer of beasts?"
The prince huffed a laugh, crossing his arms. "You forgot poison-drinking menace."
Aelius placed a hand over his chest in mock offense. "Ah, yes. My proudest achievement."
The children giggled again, but the prince's gaze was steady and thoughtful. "So which one do you believe in?"
Aelius fell silent for a moment, his eyes flickering back toward the storm outside. The wind roared through the ruined doorway, the cold seeping in like an unshakable presence.
"I don't," he finally said.
The prince studied him for a long moment before exhaling. "That sounds exhausting."
Aelius scoffed. "You get used to it."
The small girl suddenly tugged on his cloak, drawing his attention back down to her. "But if you don't believe in your own name, then what are you?"
Aelius blinked. Of all the questions she could have asked, that was the one that made him pause.
For once, he didn't have a quick answer.
The prince watched him, curious as to how he'd respond, but before Aelius could speak, one of the villagers called for the prince's attention. The moment broke, and with a sigh, the prince pushed off the doorframe.
"Think on that, Mister Mask," he said with a smirk before heading toward the villagers.
Aelius let out a dramatic groan. "I'm not calling myself that!"
The prince only chuckled over his shoulder.
Aelius shook his head, but his hand lingered near where the girl had tugged his cloak, the question lingering in his mind.
What are you?
For now, he had no answer. But he had a feeling the night wasn't over just yet.
Aelius exhaled slowly, tilting his head toward the fire as the familiar sound of small, shuffling footsteps approached once more. "They're back again…" he muttered under his breath, half-amused, half-exasperated.
Sure enough, the same group of children had returned, undeterred by his earlier dismissal. The little girl at the front, the one who had tugged at his cloak before, peered up at him with wide eyes.
"Mister Mask, do you really drink poison?" she asked again, tilting her head curiously.
Aelius let out a dramatic sigh, crossing his arms. "I could say no, but I feel like you'd just come back and ask again."
The children giggled at that, emboldened. A younger boy bounced slightly on his heels, clutching a half-eaten piece of bread. "But isn't poison bad? My mom says it's really dangerous!"
"For most people, yeah," Aelius admitted, his voice carrying a dry amusement. "For me? It just makes me stronger."
Their eyes widened in fascination, and another child, a boy with a mop of messy brown hair, frowned in deep thought. "Does that mean you're, like… invincible?"
Aelius let out a short chuckle. "Hardly. I just don't go down as easily as others."
The little girl tugged on the edge of his cloak again, drawing his attention back to her. "Then how do you know if something is too dangerous?"
Aelius smirked under his mask, crouching slightly so he was more at their level. "Well, that's the fun part, isn't it? You don't know until you find out."
The children gasped, some laughing, others whispering to each other about how "cool" that sounded.
A smaller boy, clearly trying to work up his courage, finally spoke up. "Mister Mask… are you a hero?"
Aelius hesitated for a fraction of a second; he couldn't snap at the kids for asking the question again, he responded, his tone softer. "Nah. Just someone who deals with problems when they show up."
The kids didn't seem disappointed by that. In fact, they only seemed more interested.
"Then what's the scariest thing you've ever fought?"
Aelius smirked at that, about to launch into some vaguely exaggerated retelling of a past battle, but,
Something shifted.
His entire body tensed as the feeling returned, sharper this time. It wasn't the storm, it was something inside it. A presence, subtle but deliberate, creeping through the air like a sickness waiting to be noticed.
His grin faded. His muscles coiled.
"Go back to the adults," he said suddenly, his voice firmer than before.
The children blinked, surprised by the sudden change in tone.
"Huh?" the little girl frowned.
Aelius turned fully to them now, his posture shifting. His voice remained steady but edged with something serious. "Now. Go to the prince and tell him to be on guard."
"But, "
"Now," Aelius repeated, sharper but not unkind.
Something in his tone made them listen. They hesitated only a second longer before nodding and hurrying off, whispering amongst themselves but obeying.
Aelius didn't waste another second. He pushed off the ruined doorway, straightening himself. The cold wind biting against him as he stared into the storm.
Something was out there.
And it had finally decided to move.
Behind him, Aelius could hear the murmuring voices of the children as they hurried away, their footsteps fading into the larger shuffle of movement from the guards. Armor clinked as they adjusted their stances, some shifting closer to the prince in quiet readiness, while others exchanged wary glances, sensing the same unspoken tension in the air.
Aelius, however, wasted no time. He raised his hands, pressing them together as his voice dropped into something guttural and commanding.
"Pox Make: Nurgling."
From the festering energy swirling in his palms, a grotesque, bloated little creature began to take shape. Its sickly green form pulsed with rot, beady eyes gleaming with malice as it gurgled excitedly, eager to serve. The stench of disease curled in the air, thick and vile, making the nearby flames flicker as if recoiling from its presence.
Aelius barely gave the thing a glance before gesturing outward. "Go."
The Nurgling let out a wet, chortling giggle before scampering forward into the storm, its hunched form disappearing into the howling winds. Aelius narrowed his eyes, focusing on the thread of connection between himself and his conjured minion, feeling through its senses as it moved ahead,
And then, without warning, that connection snapped.
His entire body jolted as a sickening crack echoed through the air. A split second later, the Nurglings corpse came flying out of the storm, its small, twisted body slamming into the wooden door frame with a wet, meaty thud.
The force alone was unnatural. Something had thrown it back, hard.
Aelius' eyes locked onto the motionless form as greenish ichor oozed from its ruptured flesh. The thing was utterly destroyed in an instant, no struggle, no resistance.
Silence fell over the entrance. Even the storm seemed to pause for a fraction of a second.
Then, slowly, the wind howled again, louder this time.
Aelius exhaled, his breath misting slightly in the cold air. His gaze lifted from the ruined corpse to the swirling abyss of the storm beyond, something unreadable flickering behind his mask.
"Well," he muttered under his breath, rolling his shoulders. "That's new."
He wasn't sure what was out there yet.
But whatever it was, it had just made its first move.
A deep, guttural growl rolled through the air, a sound so unnatural that it seemed to vibrate through the very bones of the church. It wasn't carried by the wind, it cut through it, something primal, something ancient.
The civilians froze where they stood, every breath stolen by the sheer wrongness of the sound. Mothers clutched their children tighter, wide eyes darting toward the broken entrance as fear choked the air. The guards tensed, hands gripping the hilts of their weapons with white-knuckled force, shifting their stances instinctively toward the door. Even the prince, for all his composure, stood rigid, his gaze fixed on the swirling storm beyond.
Then, from the depths of that howling void, a voice emerged.
"Come."