5. A Familiar Stranger and a Vision

Rowan pulled the hood further over his head as he stepped into the grand halls of the guild, Crow keeping pace beside him. She had stayed the night at his cottage—out of guilt, he suspected, or perhaps a lingering sense of duty. She had warned him the healing magic would leave him drained. Maybe she feared he’d be an easy target in this state.

He felt her pause behind him. Turning, he caught the wonder in her eyes as she took in the morning light filtering through the stained-glass windows. The colors danced across the polished marble floors in hues of gold and violet. Under normal circumstances, the sight might have brought him joy. Watching a newcomer experience the guild hall’s beauty for the first time was like seeing it anew through fresh eyes.

But today, it left him annoyed, agitated even.

He turned away and continued forward. His only goal was to remain unnoticed.

The murmurs of adventurers filled the vast space—discussing bounties, magic breakthroughs, and, of course, the latest rumors. He clenched his jaw. The last thing he needed was to become the latest topic of discussion.

“They're too loud,” his agitation only grew.

Everything was too loud. Too bright.

And the smells—gods, the smells. He couldn’t even describe them all. They went beyond the scent of adventurers themselves. He could smell their emotions—arousal, hatred, fear—each rolling off them in waves. It was suffocating, overwhelming, unbearable.

Overstimulated, Rowan to the point that he could feel rage bubbling in his veins.

He had to get away from the crowd.

From people.

Something dark with him stirred, his fingers twitching as his pulse thudded in sync with the new magic flowing within him. This transformation wasn’t just a change in power—it was a change of Him.

His heightened senses, his newly transformed ears twitching beneath his hood. The anger—gods, the anger—was simmering, bubbling, demanding release

It was overwhelming.

Unfortunately, his Magic Codex had already confirmed the change. Calling for an update in the guild, suddenly he was a part of those who had been unveiled.

By the time he reached the guild master’s office, the old man was already waiting. Whether he had been alerted through the guild’s magic system or had simply sensed something was wrong, the door was open before Rowan even knocked. His master walked to his desk, in silence, Rowan behind him.

“Well,” his sharp gaze met Rowan’s once he sat, “Give it here.”

With unsteady hands, Rowan slid his Magic Codex across the desk. He didn’t need to see it to know what was written inside.

“Ashford,” his voice was low, “What the hell is this?”

The guild master’s expression was grim. He tapped at the glowing script hovering above the page, updating the device. Rowan’s gaze remained locked on his fingers, but his stomach twisted at the words displayed beneath his newly granted class.

Lunar Savant.

And below that—something new. Something ominous.

Feral Meter: 57%

It sat above his new mana gauge, fluctuating ever so slightly. Rowan’s stomach twisted at the sight.

And below that—something new. Something ominous.

Fujimura exhaled sharply, leaning back in his chair. “This isn’t normal.” His tone was unreadable. “But you already knew that.”

Rowan swallowed hard and nodded.

The guild master’s gaze was piercing. “Never seen anything like this in all my years.” He nodded toward Rowan’s hood. “Take it off.”

Hesitant hands gripped the hood, but he obeyed, pulling the fabric away to reveal the unmistakable signs of his transformation—wolf-like ears perched atop his head, the faint glow in his eyes.

Fujimura whistled at the apprentice aspect reader, “I take it this was no normal unveiling.”

Rowan cleared his throat, trying to hide the pain from his expression, “I think–” His mind was racing, “I was–I I.” words failed him. His jaw tightened as frustration burned in his veins.

“It’s a curse.”

Crow’s voice was soft, yet it cut through the room like a blade. Rowan stiffened.

“From a lycan I presume.”

Even with his heightened senses he hadn’t realized she was there, it was as if she simply materialized. Her violet eyes glowed faintly as she studied him.

Finally, he nodded, “I woke up with the ears this morning, Crow claimed she didn’t see them the night before either.” his voice was less shaky this time.

The guild master’s face grew dark “Boy,” his voice was tight, “I’m going to be brutally honest with you, this isn’t just…an unveiling. And the fact that whatever this meter is is already halfway full.” He shook his head.

“It’s not good,” Rowan agreed.

Fujimura drummed his fingers against the desk. Thinking.

“The church is going to take an interest in this.” His voice was tight. “A late awakening like yours—it doesn’t happen. And when things that ‘don’t happen’ suddenly do, the church tends to ask questions.” His eyes locked onto Rowan’s. “You need to watch yourself.”

He stiffened under his gaze.

“You as well, Miss Aur-Crow.” He quickly corrected himself.

Rowan’s ears pinned back at the mention of the woman behind him, “Why is she involved?”

The guild master raised an eyebrow, “I guess you two haven’t been able to get acquainted yet, I assumed she’d ask you about it by now. She appeared outside the labyrinth. On the east side. Which should be impossible.”

A chill ran down Rowan’s spine. He turned to Crow, who had been standing quietly by the door, her hands clenched at her sides. “How did you get out? There’s no exit there.”

Crow swallowed hard, her fingers twitching. “I—” Her voice faltered this time. “I was in these ruins. The daggers…” Her hands drifted to her sides as if recalling their weight, her eyes conflicted as if she didn’t want to speak further. But, she continued.

“Something changed when one sliced into my hand. Everything felt. Felt Strange. Then–There was this... pull, and it was like something had snatched me into a void,” She looked deflated, guilt flickering across her face.

“Next thing I knew, I was somewhere else. A place I can’t explain.”

Rowan frowned. The guild master was using one of his skills on her. That was why she couldn’t stop talking. She had been so quiet before, but here she was, telling them everything. He had seen the master use this in interrogations, but the fact he was pushing her so hard was strange.

“And that’s where your unveiling happened?”

She looked like she was fighting herself, but she nodded, “Then when I came back,” She glared at the floor, her lips pressed firmly together as if she was trying to keep in whatever secrets she had left.

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“And you both understand things like this don’t just happen,” the old man’s voice sharpened, “Correct?”

Rowan watched as Crow slouched against the door frame, her muscles relaxing. The master must have relinquished the spell.

“I know.” her arms wrapped around herself. “I don’t understand it either. I was supposed to die there. But instead of wandering out of the bottom of the Eclipsed Reliquary, I found myself here.”

The Eclipsed Reliquary.

Rowan knew that name. The place was dangerous.

He wanted to press her further, he wanted to know what she was doing there in the first place. He went to speak but heard footsteps thundering in their direction. He quickly pulled the hood forward.

If Crow hadn't moved, she would have been crashed into. A young woman with bright pink hair and skin to match burst in, panting, her face twisted in panic.

“The Corrosive Dancer,” Rowan recognized her, “Myra Vexis.”

“We need a healer,” Her breath was ragged, “Now.”

The guild master’s face twisted in worry as well, “The guild’s resident healer is out on a mission right now, will potions work?”

She shook her head furiously. “They’re in bad shape, sir.”

Before either could speak again, Crow's voice cut through them.

“Take me there,” Their heads all snapped to Crow, she flinched, her hands shaking. She opened her mouth, closed it, then forced the words out, “I. I think I can help.”

Rowan could smell the fear radiating off both women, feeling pity for Crow as they rushed toward the chaos. Whatever had happened, it was bad.

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The guild’s common room was a blur of movement, Rowan’s focus narrowed to the two bodies sprawled on the tables.

Blood pooled beneath them. The scent was thick, metallic, intoxicating. Something deep inside him reared its head, hunger curling in his gut. His stomach twisted at the thought.

But when he saw who lay there, his unease vanished.

“Kiki?” He swallowed.

He hadn’t seen the man in years, the fact he was so hurt almost shocked Rowan. Kael Ignis—untouchable, invincible—lay there, breaths ragged and labored. Claw marks raked his chest. His arms were gashed and bruised.

His usually sharp crimson eyes dull with pain, but flickering with recognition at the name. Deep claw marks marred his chest, his arms were gashed and bruised. It looked like he had fought something monstrous and barely survived.

“Flint?” the word was no more than a breath, but Rowan’s eyes narrowed.

Beside him, another boy with deep red hair— Rowan recognized him as well as Garran Stonefang—was in just as dire a state. But unlike Kael, his injuries were… strange. Pieces of flesh seemed to have been shattered away as if he were made of stone.

Crow’s breath hitched. Rowan turned just in time to see her expression go from panic to completely blank.

After a moment of hesitation, she stepped forward, trembling hands placed over the boys. She squeezed her eyes shut as a golden light erupted from her palms, so intense it bathed the entire room in warmth.

Rowan could feel it–this was far stronger than what she did to heal him. And more demanding. The air itself seemed to thrum with the power surging from her. For a moment, the rage subsided in the boy and he felt that wonder he always did when he watched magic at work. To have such a power after only awakening what did they say? A month ago? It was teetering on insanity.

“I was supposed to die there.”

What exactly happened in those ruins? Maybe the two were different sides of the same coin.

His attention was drawn back to the present by the sudden lack of metallic scent in the air. He scanned over the two and was shocked.

The wounds weren’t healing, no. They reversed before their eyes, bones shifting back into place with an unsettling crack. Each fading back as if they never existed in the first place.

Sweat dripped down Crow’s face, her entire body trembling. Her skin was turning red where the magic met her hands, burning under its sheer intensity. She was overdoing it.

“That’s enough,” Fujimura ordered, worry lacing through his features.

She curled her fingers in, they shook under the effort, but the spell continued.

“Crow,” He snapped again, but Rowan saw it now. The sour smell of fear radiated from her.

She wasn’t ignoring him–she didn’t know how.

Her eyes met Rowan’s, pain laced with terror reflected in them as she mouthed, “Help.”

His spine stiffened as he grabbed his master, “She doesn’t know how,” His stomach was in knots. This must have been the price she paid for using such a powerful spell.

She just wanted to help, he knew that now she was burning from her own mana.

Fujimura’s eyes widened and then narrowed. He must have realized it too. He exhaled and moved swiftly, murmuring something under his breath. A faint rune glowed on his palm before he pressed his fingers against the back of Crow’s neck.

A wave of magic pulsed outward. Crow’s eyes widened in shock before she crumpled, unconscious. She caught her with ease, adjusting her limp form in his arms. Her hands were visibly blistered, hopefully, a potion could help that later, but it still made Rowan’s heart lurch.

“I’m taking her to the infirmary,” he instructed. “Get someone to carry the others.”

Rowan could barely hear Myra beside him, whispering, “What was that?”

Rowan turned to her, his eyes briefly scanning the boys she had healed. Their worst injuries—erased without a trace. They still bore bruises and scratches, but her abilities had surpassed even some cleric-class healers.

“Yet she carries daggers. Not typical for a healer.”

He exhaled. “Her body wasn’t ready to handle that much magic.” He turned, signaling guild members to retrieve stretchers. “She was just unveiled approximately a month ago.”

Myra still looked stunned, but a small grin tugged at her lips, “She’d be amazing !” the woman squeaked, “You seem to know her, Mister Ashford, do you think she would join our party?”

Rowan’s expression darkened. His eyes flitted to Kiki.

Memories surfaced—of a friendship turned sour, of pain and what felt like a betrayal. His pulse pounded, rage curling in his gut like a beast clawing to escape.

His fists clenched. The anger—this wasn’t him. He tried to swallow it back before speaking.

“No.” His voice was sharper than intended, but he found part of him just didn’t care. “I have work to do. I hope for a speedy recovery for your red-haired friend”

He forced a smile to her, she looked surprised by the animosity.

Without another word, he turned and stalked off to his office.

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Collapsing into the familiar chair, Rowan let out a deep sigh.

“Why?” he growled.

Why was Kael here?

Why did that monster have to attack Rowan?

Frustration gurgled through his veins, his hands shook as claws began to form at his fingertips.

“You have to calm down,” the voice in his mind was so timid, so soft. Was that who he was? Who he was supposed to be?

Bink. Bink. Bink.

Rowan struggled to grab the infernal device by his side, the chime of a message filling the air.

Feral Meter increasing.

Feral Meter: 60%

He slammed the codex on the desk and stood. He looked around, desperate for anything that would calm his mind. On the edge of sanity, he couldn’t lose himself again, not here.

His hand slammed on the desk before he could register what he was doing.

Tink.

Ears flicking back to find the source of the sound, his eyes darted in the same direction.

The pendant.

A bitter, angry laugh tore from his throat.

That damn pendant.

Scooping it up in one swift motion, he held it in trembling hands.

The delicate silver was shaped like an eye, a thin chain dangling from it. Inside the iris, the runes Miss Juniper had needed to be identified shimmered faintly. A soft silver light radiated from the metal as his thumb brushed over it.

A sensation like icy tendrils snaked through his fingertips, panic settling over the boy.

His vision began to blur and distort as if the world around him was being peeled away layer by layer. The sounds of the guild hall fade, replaced by whispers—thousands of voices speaking in unison.

Then—

Darkness.

A sky not of stars, but swirling cosmic storms loomed overhead. He stood in the middle of an ancient, crumbling temple, its marble pillars shattered and walls etched with celestial glyphs that pulse faintly, barely holding their shape against time. The air was thick with static energy, like the remnants of a battle long past.

At the temple’s center stood a colossal, silver-lit gateway, shaped like an eclipsed sun and moon intertwined; he had seen it somewhere else, but he couldn’t place it.

Standing before it—a woman cloaked in silver and indigo robes, her eyes glowing like twin moons. Her face is blurred, unreadable, but her voice carries across time.

“The seal weakens. The Veil thins. He must not return.”

She turned suddenly as if she could sense him watching, and for a brief moment, Rowan felt as though her gaze pierced beyond the vision, beyond time itself.

Then a sound came from nowhere but everywhere—a deep, guttural snarl.

Rowan whirled around just in time to see something emerge from the darkness. A shadowy, wolf-like entity—its form flickering between solid and ethereal, its body woven from darkness itself. Its eyes gleam with a burning, scarlet light. Something about it was familiar. Too familiar.

The beast's eyes.

He swallowed hard, wanting to move. To speak.

He wouldn’t get the chance. The woman raised her arms, magic swirling around her as the gateway shuddered.

“No—! We must—”

The scene shattered away like glass. The whispers crescendo into a deafening roar.

Rowan was jerked back to reality, gasping, the pendant still clutched in his hand.

His codex blinked once more, the rage from before settling into a quiet panic.

Feral Meter: 55%

A cold sweat crept down his neck. His breath ragged.

That… couldn’t have just been a vision. That was something real.

And somehow, he feels like he was never meant to see it.