Chapter 2 Help!

House Alistair, known throughout Eldoria for its fierce loyalty and martial prowess, was one of the kingdom's most powerful families. Their seat, Ravenwood Keep, was perched on the cliffs of the western coast, overlooking the turbulent seas. Its towering walls had seen generations of war and valor, but the true tragedy of the house was one of personal loss, not of battle.

Lord Alistair , the patriarch, was a man of great renown—respected on the battlefield and beloved by his people. He had been a man of both duty and love, with his heart belonging entirely to his wife, Lady Elira. She was the light in his life, softening his rough edges and bringing warmth to the cold, stone halls of Ravenwood Keep. Their love was the foundation upon which the family thrived.

But all of that was shattered the night Elira died giving birth to their youngest son, Vallis.

Lord Alistair had waited anxiously outside the chamber, hoping and praying for her survival. When the midwife emerged, holding the crying infant, his world collapsed. Elira was gone, and all that remained was the child. Vallis, the boy who had come into the world at the cost of his mother's life.

From that day forward, Lord Alistair was a changed man. He could not bear to look at Vallis without being reminded of the woman he had lost. Grief twisted into resentment, and though Alistair never outwardly mistreated his youngest son, the coldness in his eyes and his distant demeanor were enough to mark the divide between them. Vallis, despite his best efforts to win his father's love, grew up in the shadow of that resentment.

Rhys, the eldest, bore the full weight of Lord Alistair's expectations. He had always been his father's pride, trained from a young age to take over the mantle of House Ravenwood. Rhys excelled in every discipline—swordsmanship, tactics, leadership. He was everything Alistair wanted in an heir.

As the years passed, Rhys grew into the perfect successor, a reflection of his father's strength. But the weight of responsibility and the distance from his brother created an unspoken rift. Rhys tried to shield Vallis from their father's coldness, but he was bound by duty, unable to break the pattern that had taken hold of their family.

Vallis, meanwhile, grew into a young man desperate for validation. He trained harder than anyone, hoping that one day his father would see him not as the child who had cost him his wife, but as a worthy son. Yet every achievement, every victory, was met with indifference. To Vallis, it felt like no matter how much he succeeded, he would always be defined by his mother's death.

One evening, after a long day of training, Vallis approached his father in the great hall. The firelight cast shadows across Alistair's face as he stared into the flames, lost in thought. Vallis hesitated but finally spoke.

"Father, do you ever think she would have been proud of me?"

Lord Alistair's eyes flickered briefly to his son, and for a moment, there was something in them—pain, perhaps, or regret. But then his gaze returned to the fire, and his voice was cold when he answered.

"She would have loved you, I'm sure," he said, his words empty of the warmth Vallis so desperately sought.

Vallis stood there in silence, the rejection cutting deeper than any sword ever could. He turned and left the hall, the weight of his father's indifference heavier than before.

Rhys, who had overheard the exchange, watched his brother leave, feeling the distance between them grow even more. He wanted to say something, to bridge the gap, but like their father, Rhys was bound by duty, by the legacy of House Alistair. And so, the unspoken grief and resentment festered within the family, unseen but ever-present.

Now, with Lord Alistair growing older and his health beginning to fail, the future of House Alistair rests on Rhys's shoulders. Vallis, though distant from his father, is determined to prove his worth, even if that recognition never comes. The halls of Ravenwood Keep, once filled with love and laughter, are now haunted by the memory of a woman whose death shattered her family, leaving behind a legacy of sorrow and estrangement.

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Vallis strolled down the moonlit path, his dog padding quietly by his side. The estate behind him was silent, the tall trees casting long, eerie shadows on the ground. He sighed, kicking a loose pebble in front of him, the cool night air biting at his skin. His thoughts wandered, as they often did, to Earth—the life he'd left behind, so vivid yet so distant.

"God, I miss the food...." Vallis muttered to himself, shaking his head. His dog looked up at him, tail wagging, oblivious to his musings.

But the thoughts weighed heavy on him. Life in Eldoria had never felt natural, despite the years he'd been here. There was a rawness to this world, an unforgiving brutality he wasn't used to. Everything from the customs, the power dynamics, and the harsh expectations placed on him as the youngest of House Alistair felt foreign. Even though his father had always believed in him, even when the rest of the family didn't, the pressures of being deemed "trash" gnawed at him. Expulsion from the royal academy had sealed that fate in their eyes.

Suddenly, Vallis's foot caught on something. He stumbled, his balance faltering as the ground beneath him gave way. Before he could react, a sudden force yanked him downward. His dog barked furiously, trying to pull him back, teeth gripping his sleeve. But it was too late. Vallis felt himself being dragged into the earth, dirt crumbling around him.

"Go! Get help!" Vallis shouted, panic in his voice as his dog hesitated. The creature barked once more before racing back toward the estate, as if it understood the command.

Vallis grunted as he fell, landing hard on the stone floor beneath. The world around him seemed to spin for a moment before settling into an eerie stillness. Groaning, he pushed himself up, his hands covered in dust and grime. Looking around, his heart pounded. This wasn't just some sinkhole—this was a chamber of sorts, carved out of the earth and stone, lit by the pale moonlight filtering through cracks above.

"What the hell?" he muttered, standing slowly and wiping his hands on his trousers. His eyes adjusted to the dim light, noticing strange, ancient symbols carved into the walls. They twisted and curled, forming patterns that felt almost alive in the way they danced in the soft light.

He wandered forward cautiously, his eyes scanning every inch of the chamber. The architecture seemed untouched, pristine in a way that made him wonder how it had remained hidden all this time. No one had spoken of anything like this around Ravenwood Keep. No family records, no old stories passed down at the dinner table.

"This is….fucking creepy," Vallis murmured, trying to shake the unease creeping into his bones. "Let's hope i find an ancient sword or some treasure.?" He laughed dryly, more to himself than anything. But the sound echoed in the empty space, growing fainter and more eerie as it bounced off the walls.

As he ventured further, his eyes caught something that stood out among the stones—a raised platform, an altar, at the far end of the chamber. On top of it sat a cracked skull, its dark, hollow eyes staring back at him. And beneath it, something else—something wrapped tightly in what looked like... human skin.

Vallis felt a chill run down his spine as he stepped closer. The book beneath the skull seemed to call to him, though every fiber of his being screamed at him to turn back. But curiosity got the better of him. Hesitantly, he reached out, brushing his fingers against the leathery surface.

The instant his skin made contact, a blinding light erupted from the book. Vallis gasped, the force of it knocking him back. His head throbbed, and his vision blurred as strange symbols and images burned themselves into his mind. His body convulsed as the light entered his eyes, his mouth, consuming him. He could feel something ancient, something powerful, pouring into him, filling him with a knowledge he hadn't asked for, hadn't wanted.

And then, everything went black.

Vallis lay still on the cold stone floor, the only sound the distant echo of his dog's frantic barking above. The chamber was quiet once more, save for the soft glow that still lingered in the air, a reminder of the dark power that had been unleashed.