Markus stood tall, the ancient power of his ancestors coursing through him, a fierce fire burning in his eyes. He was no longer just Markus, the hunter. He was something more, a vessel of untamed power, a force to be reckoned with. He looked at Sharon, offering her a small, reassuring smile. Then, he turned his attention to the hag, his eyes hardening with a righteous fury. The game was over. It was time for the reckoning.

  The hag, sensing the shift in power, recoiled slightly. Her initial surprise had given way to a flicker of fear, an instinct that recognized a threat. She raised her staff, but the gesture lacked its earlier confidence. She knew she was facing something new, something unpredictable.

  "You… you should be dead, how could you life again?" she rasped, her voice laced with a confusion. "What are you?!"

  "I don't know myself," Markus replied, his voice resonating with strength. "But your power is an enemy of mine and i will crush you."

  He took a step forward, and the ground beneath him seemed to tremble and burn. The air crackled with energy, a palpable force that pushed back the hag’s dark magic. He felt the power within him, a raw fire, untamed energy, but he didn’t yet know how to wield it. It was like holding a wild animal – powerful, but unpredictable.

  "You are a fool," the hag hissed. "You are just a boy, playing with powers you do not understand."

  She unleashed a wave of green poison, but Markus, reacting instinctively, unleashed a surge of his own power. Fire and poison collided, creating a shockwave that rocked the chamber. But the clash was uneven. The hag’s dark magic, though weakened, was still more refined, more controlled. Markus’s fire power, though potent, was scattered, inefficient.

  He stumbled back, feeling the strain of controlling the untamed energy within him. He could feel the hag’s dark magic probing his own, trying to corrupt it, to turn it against him.

  The hag cackled, sensing his struggle. "You are weak," she rasped. "You are just a vessel, a temporary conduit for a power you cannot control."

  She pressed her attack, unleashing another wave of green poison. Markus tried to counter with a jet of fire, but his movements were clumsy, his power erratic. The green poison slammed into him, throwing him against a wall.

  He gasped for air, his body aching, his control over the ancestral power slipping. But thanks to it burning the poison he didn't killed instantly. He looked at Sharon, his eyes filled with a mixture of pain and determination. He couldn’t give up. He had to protect her, he had to stop the hag.

  He struggled to his feet, drawing on the last reserves of his strength. He knew he couldn’t defeat the hag in a direct confrontation. He was too inexperienced, his power keep sliping. He needed a different strategy.

  He closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of the power within him. He couldn’t control it perfectly, not yet, but he could guide it. He could use it as a conduit, a channel for his will.

  He opened his eyes, and a faint, red glow emanated from his body. He didn’t attack the hag directly. Instead, he focused the energy on the environment, on the crumbling walls of the chamber. He could feel the power responding to his will, strengthening the cracks, destabilizing the structure.

  The hag, sensing his intentions, snarled. "What are you doing?"

  Markus didn’t reply. He simply continued to channel the energy, focusing on a weak point in the ceiling, a large section of rock that was already on the verge of collapse.

  The hag realized his plan too late. As she unleashed another wave of green energy filled with poison, Markus focused his power on the weakened ceiling. With a deafening roar, the section of rock collapsed, burying the hag beneath tons of rubble. She didn't even had time to scream.

  The chamber fell silent. Dust and debris filled the air, obscuring the fallen hag. Markus, exhausted and battered, collapsed to his knees. He had won. But it had been a close call. He had barely survived. He looked towards Sharon, who was watching him with a mixture of relief and concern. He offered her a weak smile.

  He tried to stand, but his body protested, every muscle screaming in pain. He managed to push himself up to a sitting position, leaning against a large chunk of fallen rock. He could feel his power fading, receding back into its dormant state. He was just Markus again, the hunter, albeit one who had faced down an ancient evil and lived to tell the tale.

  He looked around the chamber, taking in the devastation. The altar was shattered, the dark symbols on the walls were faded and dim, and the air felt cleaner, lighter. The hag was gone, buried beneath the rubble, her terror finally over.

  Sharon rushed to his side, her face etched with worry. "Markus! Are you alright?" she asked, her voice trembling.

  "I'm… I'm fine," he replied, though his voice betrayed his words. He could feel the adrenaline fading, leaving him weak and vulnerable.

  "We need to get out of here," Sharon said, her eyes scanning the chamber. "This place… it's not safe."

  Markus nodded in agreement. He knew she was right. The stronghold was unstable, damaged by the battle. It could collapse at any moment. And there was no telling what other dark secrets it held.

  They helped each other to their feet, their movements slow and cautious. They made their way towards the passage where the villagers had fled, their eyes wary of any sign of danger.

  The passage led them out of the chamber and into a maze of tunnels. They moved slowly, their footsteps echoing through the silence. They could hear the occasional rumble of falling debris, a constant reminder of the danger they were in.

  Finally, they reached the outside, emerging from the darkness of the stronghold into the cool night air. They were greeted by the sight of the villagers, who were waiting for them, their faces filled with relief.

  Robin was there, her face etched with worry. She rushed towards them, her eyes searching for any sign of injury.

  "Markus! Sharon! You're alive!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with emotion.

  "We're alright, Robin," Markus said, though he knew they were far from alright. They were alive, but they were wounded, exhausted, and traumatized by their ordeal.

  "The cult… it's gone," Sharon said. "We defeated them."

  Robin nodded, her expression grave. "I know," she said. "I felt it. The darkness… it has receded."

  She looked at Markus, her eyes filled with gratitude and respect. "You are a hero, Markus," she said. "You have saved us all."

  Markus shook his head. "I'm just… a hunter," he said. "I did what I had to do."

  But he knew that he was more than just a hunter now. His power, he didn't know where it came from and how he could posses it but it was powerfull and although he was a little bit weary of it he gratefull for without it he would be dead and sharon would fall in the hand of the hag.

  He looked at Sharon, who was standing beside him, they were safe. They were alive. And they had each other.

  "What about Gordon?" Sharon asked, her voice filled with worry.

  Markus's face fell. He had been so focused on Sharon and the villagers that he had almost forgotten about Gordon. He turned and ran back towards the stronghold, ignoring the pain in his body. He knew he had to go back for Gordon. He wouldn't leave him behind. Not after everything they had been through together.

  Sharon called after him, but he didn't stop. He had to reach his friend.

  He re-entered the stronghold, the darkness now less oppressive, but still heavy with the lingering echoes of evil. He moved quickly, his senses on high alert. He followed the familiar path back towards the chamber where they had fought the hag.

  He found Gordon lying near the shattered altar, his body still and lifeless. Markus rushed to his side, his heart pounding in his chest. He knelt down and checked for a pulse. It was faint, barely perceptible, but it was there. Gordon was alive.

  Markus carefully lifted Gordon's body, his movements gentle and deliberate. He knew he had to get him out of here, to get him back to the village, where Robin could heal him.

  He carried Gordon out of the stronghold, his steps slow and steady. He emerged into the night air, where Sharon and Robin were waiting.

  "He's alive," Markus said, his voice filled with relief.

  Robin rushed forward, her face filled with concern. She examined Gordon, her brow furrowed.

  "He is badly injured," she said. "But he will live. You have saved him, Markus."

  Markus nodded, his gaze fixed on Gordon's pale face. He was alive. And that was all that mattered.

  They returned to the village, the rescued villagers and hunters following behind them, their faces etched with a mixture of relief and exhaustion. The villagers welcomed them with open arms, celebrating their return and praising their bravery. Robin tended to the injured, using her knowledge of herbs and healing magic to mend their wounds.

  Days turned into weeks. The village slowly began to recover from their trauma. The villagers tried to return to their normal lives. But things were different now. The darkness had touched them all, leaving a lingering sense of unease.

  Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

  As Markus sat beside Gordon's bed, he noticed a flicker of movement. Gordon's eyelids fluttered, and he let out a soft groan.

  "Gordon?" Markus whispered, his heart pounding in his chest.

  Gordon's eyes slowly opened, his gaze unfocused at first, then gradually focusing on Markus's face. "Markus?" he whispered, his voice weak.

  "You're awake," Markus said, his voice filled with relief.

  Gordon looked around the room, his eyes filled with confusion. "What… what happened?" he asked.

  Markus and Sharon explained everything that had happened, from the hag's resurrection to the final battle. Gordon listened intently, his face etched with a mixture of disbelief and horror.

  "I… I don't remember anything," he said finally. "The last thing I remember is… the dark energy… then nothing."

  But he was alive. And he had friends, people who cared about him, who had risked everything to save him. He looked at Markus and Sharon, his eyes filled with gratitude.

  "Thank you," he said, his voice hoarse. "Thank you for saving me."

  "We'll always be here for you, Gordon," Sharon said, her voice filled with warmth.

  Markus nodded in agreement. "We're a team," he said. "We'll face whatever comes next… together."

  Just then, the door to the room burst open, and a woman rushed in, her face etched with worry and relief. It was Elara, but not in her usual calm demeanor. Behind her trailed several villagers, also looking anxious.

  "Gordon!" the woman cried, rushing to his bedside. It was his mother. She embraced him tightly, her tears flowing freely. "My son! You're alive! I was so worried. I thought…" She couldn't finish the sentence, the fear of losing him still too raw.

  Gordon looked at his mother, his eyes filled with love and gratitude. He reached out and took her hand, squeezing it gently. "I'm alright, Mother," he said, his voice still weak but filled with reassurance. "I'm home."

  His mother pulled back slightly, her eyes searching his face, looking for any sign of lasting injury. "You've been through so much," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I was so afraid…"

  Robin stepped forward, placing a comforting hand on Gordon’s mother's shoulder. "He is strong," she said gently. "He is a hero. He and his friends saved our village."

  Gordon’s mother looked at Markus and Sharon, her eyes filled with gratitude. "Thank you," she said, her voice choked with emotion. "Thank you for bringing my son home."

  Markus and Sharon exchanged a warm smile. They knew that Gordon’s recovery would be long and difficult, but he had his mother, his friends, and his village to support him. He would be alright.

  The villagers who had followed Gordon’s mother into the room now crowded around the bed, offering their well wishes and expressing their gratitude. The room was filled with a sense of joy and relief, a celebration of Gordon’s return to the world of the living.

  --------

  Turn out it wasn't long or even difficult for Gordon to fully recover. He just need to slept for a night then he back to a healty Gordon.

  He soon return to his duty as hunter. Patroling around the forest and sometimes helped villager who needed his assistant.

  Meanwhile in the Markus's house several days after the battle a group of figures appeared, their presence radiating an aura of power and mystery. They were the Keepers of the Flame.

  They moved with a quiet authority, their forms wreathed in flickering flames, their faces hidden by their cowls. They walked directly to Markus's house, their footsteps leaving no trace on the dusty path.

  Markus, who was tending to his small garden, looked up in surprise as the Keepers approached. He recognized them instantly, his heart pounding in his chest. He had encountered them before, during the hag's initial attacks, and he knew they were beings of immense power.

  Sharon, who was inside the house, emerged, her face filled with a mixture of awe and apprehension. She had heard stories of the Keepers, legends whispered in hushed tones, tales of their power and their enigmatic ways.

  The Keepers stopped before Markus's house, their glowing eyes fixed on him. They did not speak, but their presence filled the air with a sense of power.

  Markus bowed his head respectfully. "Keepers of the Flame," he said, his voice filled with reverence. "What brings you to our village?"

  One of the Keepers stepped forward, his form slightly more defined than the others. He raised his hand, and the flames around him flickered, revealing a glimpse of his face. It was an old face, etched with wisdom and power, his eyes burning with an otherworldly light.

  "Markus," the Keeper said, his voice resonating with ancient authority. "We have come to you because of what you have done."

  Markus exchanged a nervous glance with Sharon. He knew they had faced great danger, that they had fought against a powerful evil. But he didn't know if the Keepers had come to praise them or to punish them.

  "We have sensed the power that flows through you," the Keeper continued. "The power of your ancestors. It is a powerful force, a force that can be used for good or for evil."

  Markus nodded slowly, understanding the Keeper's words. He knew that the power within him was a gift, but also a burden, a responsibility.

  "You have faced the darkness," the Keeper said. "And you have prevailed. But the darkness is still out there, lurking in the shadows. And it will return."

  He paused, his gaze fixed on Markus. "We have seen your courage, your strength, your selflessness. We believe that you are destined for something greater."

  Markus looked at Sharon, who was watching him with a mixture of pride and concern. He knew that the Keeper's words were a calling, a summons to a greater purpose.

  "We offer you a choice, Markus," the Keeper said. "You can choose to remain here, in your village, living a peaceful life. Or you can choose to join us, to become a guardian of the flame, a protector of the balance between light and darkness."

  A wave of conflicting emotions washed over Markus. He felt a surge of excitement, a sense of purpose, at the prospect of joining the Keepers of the Flame. It was an honor, a calling, a chance to dedicate his life to a greater good. But beneath the elation, a bitter taste lingered in his heart.

  He looked at Sharon that had been etched with worry and fear during the recent ordeal. He thought of Gordon, still recovering from the hag’s dark magic, his body and spirit bearing the scars of their battle. He remembered Gareth, lying lifeless in the Shadowwood Glade, a sacrifice to the darkness they had faced.

  Where were you then? the unspoken question echoed in his mind. Where were you when we were fighting for our lives, when we were facing creatures of nightmare, when we were staring into the abyss?

  The Keepers, with their immense power, their ancient wisdom, had remained aloof, watching from the shadows as Markus, Gordon, Sharon, and the other hunters risked everything to protect their village. They done nothing to help them.

  The elation he had initially felt began to sour. Was this truly the path he wanted to take? To join an order that seemed so distant, so detached from the struggles of ordinary people? An order that only appeared after the real fighting was done?

  He looked at the Keeper, the light in his eyes now dimmed by doubt. "I… I am honored by your offer," Markus said, his voice hesitant. "But… I have some questions."

  The Keeper nodded, his expression unreadable.

  "You saw what happened," Markus continued, his voice growing stronger. "You saw the creatures we faced, the dark magic that threatened to consume us. Where were you? Why didn't you helping us? Do you know that one of my friends is dead!?"

  The Keeper remained silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on Markus. Then, he replied, his voice calm and measured. "We observe," he said. "We watch. We wait for the moment when our intervention is necessary."

  "But we were dying!" Markus exclaimed, his voice rising in frustration. "Our village was attacked, our people were taken, our friends were injured, some even died!"

  The Keeper’s expression did not change. "Sometimes… suffering is necessary. Sometimes… sacrifices must be made."

  Markus stared at the Keeper, his heart filled with a mixture of anger and disappointment. Sacrifices? He thought. Is that what we were? Sacrifices? Pawns in some game?

  He looked at Sharon, who was watching him with concern. He saw the doubt in her eyes, the same doubt that was gnawing at his own soul.

  He knew he couldn't join them. Not now. Not with these unanswered questions, this lingering sense of injustice.

  "I… I cannot accept your offer," Markus said, his voice firm. "Not until I understand… not until I know… what you truly stand for."

  The Keeper nodded slowly, his eyes filled with understanding. "Your journey has only just begun, Markus," he said. "And the questions you ask… are just as important as the answers you seek."

  And with that, the Keepers of the Flame vanished, leaving Markus and Sharon alone, their hearts heavy with the weight of their experiences and the uncertainty of the future.