Three days of cautious travel through the Shadow Forest tested Azreth's newfound abilities. The forest grew more treacherous the farther south he traveled, with poisonous mist pools and predatory pnt life that seemed to sense his approach. Twice he encountered shadowfangs hunting in packs, forcing him to use the combat techniques Vexerus had taught him.

  Each victory brought the strange rush of essence absorption, his body automatically drawing in the creatures' magical energy upon their deaths. With Vexerus's knowledge now integrated into his consciousness, Azreth better understood this process—how to channel the absorbed power, store it efficiently, and prevent it from overwhelming his own aura.

  By the third day, exhaustion weighed on him. Despite his enhanced abilities, he remained physically a thirteen-year-old demon, and the constant vigince had taken its toll. When he finally spotted thin columns of smoke rising above the treeline, marking the location of the Shadowmist Settlement, relief washed over him.

  The settlement occupied a natural clearing where the forest canopy thinned enough to allow glimpses of the perpetually twilit sky. Unlike his childhood vilge, which had been constructed primarily of stone and bone, these structures were built directly into and around massive trees—a symbiotic retionship between demonic architecture and forest life.

  Azreth approached cautiously, aware that strangers were rarely welcomed in demon communities. At the settlement's edge, he encountered the inevitable border guards—two muscur demons with mottled gray skin and jagged horns. They carried barbed spears and wore armor fashioned from the scales of forest predators.

  "Halt," the rger guard commanded, leveling his spear. "State your business, whelp."

  Azreth had prepared for this moment. "I seek sanctuary," he replied, keeping his voice steady. "My vilge was destroyed in a human raid. I've been surviving alone in the forest."

  The guards exchanged gnces. The smaller one sniffed the air, assessing Azreth's scent. "Which vilge?"

  "Near the Crystal Pass, at the Shadow Forest's eastern edge."

  This elicited a nod of recognition. "We heard rumors of a Church purge there st season." The guard studied Azreth more carefully. "You survived that? Alone?"

  "I was... hidden during the attack. My parents didn't make it." The partial truth was easier to maintain than a complete fabrication.

  The rger guard lowered his spear slightly. "You're young to have survived the forest for so long."

  "I'm stronger than I look," Azreth replied, deliberately avoiding specifics.

  After a moment's consideration, the guard gestured toward the settlement. "You can speak with Elder Krath. He decides who stays and who leaves. Don't cause trouble, and keep your magic contained within the boundaries."

  Azreth nodded gratefully and followed as they escorted him into the settlement. Curious eyes tracked his progress—demons of various sizes, colors, and physiologies pausing in their activities to observe the newcomer. Children with small horns and undeveloped powers peered from doorways, while adult demons assessed him with the wariness of those accustomed to danger.

  The guards led him to the settlement's center, where a massive, hollowed tree trunk had been converted into a meeting hall. Inside, seated on a throne carved from a single piece of fossilized shadowwood, waited Elder Krath.

  The settlement's leader was ancient by demon standards, though nowhere near Vexerus's incredible age. His once-powerful frame had begun to wither, but his four horns—a sign of exceptional bloodline—remained impressive, curving majestically around his head like a crown. His skin was deep burgundy, and his eyes glowed with amber light as he studied Azreth.

  "A survivor from the Crystal Pass massacre," the rger guard announced. "Seeks sanctuary."

  Elder Krath leaned forward, his gaze penetrating. "What skills do you bring to our settlement, young one? We have no room for dead weight."

  Azreth considered his options carefully. Revealing too much about his abilities might create suspicion, but ciming too little would make him seem worthless.

  "I know healing arts," he said, touching his mother's pendant. "My mother was a skilled healer. And I can control fire with precision." He demonstrated by creating a small fme above his palm, then shaping it into complex patterns before extinguishing it.

  The Elder's expression remained impassive. "Healing is valuable. Fire magic less so—we have several fme-wielders already." He inhaled deeply, a common demon technique for assessing another's magical potential. His eyes narrowed slightly. "Your aura is... unusual. Muted, yet complex."

  Azreth tensed. Vexerus had warned that his dual nature created an aura pattern unlike typical demons—less overtly powerful, but with unique complexities that sensitive observers might detect.

  "An injury from the raid," he lied. "It damaged my essence channels. My powers are recovering gradually."

  Krath seemed skeptical but didn't press the issue. "We can offer temporary sanctuary. You'll assist Varik, our current healer. He's overworked and could use an apprentice." The Elder's tone hardened. "Prove your worth, and you may stay permanently. Fail, and you'll be exiled."

  "Thank you, Elder," Azreth replied with appropriate deference. "I won't disappoint you."

  "See that you don't." Krath gestured to a young female demon who had been standing quietly in the corner. "Verna will show you to the healer's quarters and expin our settlement's rules."

  The female demon stepped forward, and Azreth was immediately struck by her unusual appearance. Unlike most demons, whose coloration ran toward reds, bcks, or grays, Verna's skin was a pale vender hue that seemed to shimmer faintly in the hall's dim light. Her horns were small and delicate, curving back from her forehead like polished silver. Most striking were her eyes—rge, almond-shaped, and completely white without pupils or irises.

  "This way," she said, her voice surprisingly melodic for a demon. Without waiting for a response, she turned and exited the hall.

  Azreth followed, conscious of Elder Krath's evaluating gaze tracking him until he passed through the doorway.

  Outside, Verna moved with fluid grace through the settlement, offering no conversation. Azreth matched her pace, observing his surroundings more carefully now. The Shadowmist Settlement seemed to house perhaps two hundred demons—significantly smaller than his childhood vilge. Most dwellings were built into living trees or constructed between them, connected by rope bridges and ptforms that created a three-dimensional community.

  "You're not from the Crystal Pass," Verna said suddenly, not bothering to look back at him.

  Azreth nearly missed a step. "What?"

  "Your accent. It's wrong for that region." She paused at a junction between elevated walkways. "Also, your aura doesn't flow like normal demons."

  "I told the Elder—"

  "About an injury, yes." Now she did turn, fixing him with her unsettling pupilless gaze. "I don't care where you're really from or what you're hiding. Everyone here has secrets. Just don't endanger the settlement."

  Her directness was refreshing after the Elder's suspicious scrutiny. "I mean no harm to anyone here," Azreth said truthfully.

  Verna studied him for a moment, then nodded once. "The healer's quarters are this way."

  They continued through the settlement until they reached a massive tree near the western boundary. Unlike most of the dwellings, which were built into the trees themselves, the healer's quarters consisted of a ground-level structure nestled between massive roots, with various additions extending outward like the spokes of a wheel.

  "Varik!" Verna called as they approached. "Elder Krath has sent you an apprentice!"

  From within the structure emerged a stocky, middle-aged demon with moss-green skin and a single spiral horn protruding from the center of his forehead. His arms were covered in what appeared to be permanent alchemical burns—a common occupational hazard for demon healers who worked with votile substances.

  Varik assessed Azreth with professional detachment. "Another orphan?" he asked Verna.

  "Crystal Pass survivor, supposedly," she replied with a shrug.

  The healer grunted. "Well, come in then. If Krath assigned you to me, you might as well make yourself useful immediately. We have three miners with scale-rot and a child with shadow-fever."

  Azreth followed Varik inside, while Verna lingered at the entrance.

  "Settlement orientation is at dusk by the central fire," she informed Azreth. "Don't be te—Krath notices absences." With that, she departed, leaving Azreth with the gruff healer.

  The interior of the healing quarters was organized chaos—shelves lined with jars of preserved specimens, bundles of dried herbs hanging from the ceiling, and workstations covered with alchemical equipment. The air smelled of medicinal incense and poultices.

  "Your mother was a healer?" Varik asked, already moving between patients who y on raised pallets.

  "Yes," Azreth confirmed, naturally falling into the role of assistant as he began examining the nearest patient—a burly mining demon whose arm was covered in oozing bck lesions.

  "Scale-rot," Varik expined, watching Azreth's assessment. "Fungal infection from the deep mines. Spreads quickly if untreated."

  Azreth nodded, recognizing the condition from his mother's teachings. Without prompting, he moved to a workstation and began selecting appropriate ingredients for a treatment.

  Varik raised an eyebrow. "You do know healing, at least. That's something."

  For the next several hours, Azreth worked alongside the settlement healer, treating patients and preparing remedies. His mother's knowledge provided a foundation, but Vexerus's transferred memories offered insights into more advanced techniques that impressed even the experienced Varik.

  "Where did you learn to bind essence to herbal compounds?" the healer asked after watching Azreth create a particurly effective salve for the scale-rot.

  "My mother experimented with combining traditional methods and essence manipution," Azreth replied, carefully measuring his words. "She believed healing should address both physical and magical imbances."

  Varik seemed satisfied with this expnation. "Your mother was wise. Few healers take such an integrated approach." He paused, studying Azreth more carefully. "Your fire magic—can you produce precise, controlled heat rather than just fmes?"

  Azreth demonstrated by heating the bottom of a gss vial containing a murky solution, maintaining an exact temperature that caused the mixture to crify without boiling.

  "Hmm. Useful." Varik nodded approvingly. "Most fire-wielders can only destroy. Precision is rare."

  By the time dusk approached, Azreth had proven himself a capable assistant. Varik, initially skeptical, had grown increasingly impressed with his knowledge and abilities.

  "You can stay in the apprentice quarters," the healer informed him, pointing to a small adjacent structure built into the tree's roots. "It's basic, but private. Be back at dawn tomorrow—the miners' shift change brings the most injuries."

  Azreth thanked him and quickly stowed his few possessions in the small chamber before heading to the settlement orientation that Verna had mentioned.

  The central fire burned with supernatural intensity in a pit lined with bck stones. Around it gathered the settlement's newest arrivals—mostly young demons who had reached maturity and traveled from other communities seeking opportunities. Azreth was clearly the youngest present, drawing curious and occasionally dismissive gnces from the others.

  Elder Krath presided over the gathering, his imposing figure silhouetted against the azure fmes. His speech was brief and direct—outlining the settlement's rules, work expectations, and defensive protocols. Survival here depended on contribution; those who failed to pull their weight would be expelled into the forest.

  "Shadowmist exists because we stand together against greater threats," Krath concluded. "Human raids, rival demon cns, and the forest itself would destroy us individually. United, we endure."

  After the formal orientation, the gathering evolved into a more social event. Older settlement members approached to evaluate the newcomers, offering advice or warnings depending on their assessment. Azreth found himself somewhat isoted, his young age and unusual aura making others hesitant to approach.

  "They think you're weak," came Verna's voice from beside him. She had approached silently, a skill Azreth was beginning to suspect was her particur talent.

  "Because I'm young?" he asked.

  "Because your aura is strange," she corrected. "Demons instinctively assess threat levels. Yours registers as... confusing. Not overtly powerful. It makes them uncomfortable."

  Azreth sighed. "Is that why you're talking to me? Because I don't register as a threat?"

  Verna's pupilless eyes seemed to see through him. "I'm talking to you because you're different. And different is interesting." She handed him a cup of fermented bloodfruit juice. "Also, you're the first person Varik hasn't immediately despised. That's practically a miracle."

  Despite himself, Azreth smiled. There was something refreshingly direct about Verna that reminded him of Marcus, Kael's assassin companion from his previous life. The memory came with a bittersweet pang—Marcus had been the only one who seemed troubled by Kael's execution.

  "What's your role here?" he asked, genuinely curious.

  "Scout," she replied. "I can perceive things others can't." She tapped beside her white eyes. "Void-sight. Rare mutation that lets me see energy patterns, hidden pathways, concealed beings."

  That expined her immediate recognition that he was hiding something. "Useful skill."

  "Very. Especially against humans with their divine concealment magics." She studied him curiously. "You don't react like most demons when humans are mentioned. No automatic hatred or fear."

  Azreth tensed slightly. "I've learned hatred doesn't help survival."

  "Interesting perspective." Verna didn't press further, but her expression suggested she was filing the information away for ter consideration. "You should know that not everyone will welcome you here. Dhurge in particur—the rge demon with red crystal growths on his shoulders—leads the settlement's warriors. He believes strength is everything."

  "I'll avoid him when possible," Azreth promised.

  "Wise. Though eventually, you'll have to prove yourself." She gnced toward a group of imposing demons gathered around a barrel of strong spirits. "Dhurge challenges every newcomer eventually. His position demands it."

  The warning was clear. Sooner or ter, Azreth would face a physical confrontation that could determine his pce in the settlement hierarchy. It was the demon way—direct and brutal compared to the political maneuverings of human society.

  "Thanks for the warning," he said sincerely.

  Verna nodded. "Rest while you can. Life here is demanding." She hesitated, then added, "If you need guidance, I'm usually at the eastern watchtower before dawn. The view helps me think."

  With that unexpected offer of friendship, she melted back into the crowd, leaving Azreth to consider his situation. He had found sanctuary, but at the cost of constant vigince. One slip—one revetion of his true nature or abilities—could turn the entire settlement against him.

  Days turned to weeks as Azreth settled into life at Shadowmist. His role as healer's apprentice earned him a measure of respect, particurly after he successfully treated a case of void-corruption that had nearly cimed a hunter's life. Varik, initially gruff, gradually accepted Azreth as a valuable assistant, even allowing him to develop new treatment methods.

  The predicted confrontation with Dhurge came three weeks after his arrival. The warrior chief cornered him near the healing quarters one evening, backed by two lieutenants with predatory grins.

  "Healer's pet," Dhurge growled, his massive frame blocking Azreth's path. "Time to show what you're made of. Combat circle. Now."

  Azreth knew refusal would only worsen the situation. In demon society, avoiding challenge was considered cowardice—a guaranteed path to permanent ostracism or worse.

  "As you wish," he replied calmly, though his heart raced with both dread and anticipation.

  The combat circle was a ft, sandy area near the settlement's center, surrounded by carved wooden posts embedded with protective wards that contained magical discharges during fights. By the time they arrived, word had spread, and much of the settlement had gathered to watch.

  Verna stood near the circle's edge, her expression concerned. When their eyes met, she gave a subtle nod of encouragement.

  Elder Krath presided over all formal challenges. "Standard rules," he announced. "Combat ends at surrender, incapacitation, or my intervention. No lethal intentions, but permanent injuries are your own responsibility."

  Dhurge entered the circle with predatory confidence, his massive frame rippling with obvious strength. Crystalline growths protruded from his shoulders and forearms—a rare mutation that granted him natural armor. He cracked his knuckles, yellow eyes fixed on Azreth with contemptuous amusement.

  "This won't take long," someone muttered from the crowd.

  Azreth stepped into the circle, automatically falling into a banced stance that reflected Kael's combat training rather than typical demon fighting postures. He noted Dhurge's surprise at his unusual stance but knew the warrior would dismiss it as irrelevant against his overwhelming physical advantage.

  "Begin!" Krath commanded.

  Dhurge charged immediately, seeking to end the fight with one devastating blow. It was the expected approach—demons typically relied on overwhelming force rather than strategy.

  Azreth waited until the st possible moment before sidestepping with preternatural grace, using Dhurge's momentum against him. As the rger demon stumbled past, Azreth delivered a precise strike to a nerve cluster behind his knee—knowledge gleaned from Vexerus's anatomical studies.

  Dhurge's leg buckled momentarily, drawing surprised murmurs from the crowd. The warrior chief recovered quickly, his expression shifting from amusement to focused anger.

  "Lucky move, whelp," he snarled, circling more cautiously now.

  "Not luck," Azreth replied. "Observation."

  The next exchange came fast and furious—Dhurge unleashing a barrage of powerful blows while Azreth evaded with efficiency of movement that belied his youth. Each time the warrior overextended, Azreth countered with precise strikes to vulnerable points, gradually wearing down his rger opponent.

  The crowd's mood shifted from expectation of a quick victory to stunned fascination as the mismatch proved anything but one-sided. Even Elder Krath leaned forward with renewed interest.

  Dhurge, growing frustrated, unleashed his demonic power—the crystal growths on his body extending into dangerous spikes as he channeled his essence into a berserker state. This transformation would have terrified most opponents, but Azreth had faced far worse as Kael.

  As the warrior charged again, Azreth finally used his own magic. Instead of an external dispy of fire, he channeled heat internally, increasing his speed and reflexes beyond normal demon capabilities. This technique—one Vexerus had taught him—was subtle enough to appear as extraordinary physical ability rather than obvious magic.

  What followed shocked the onlookers. Azreth moved with impossible precision, weaving between Dhurge's crystal spikes, striking pressure points in rapid succession. Each blow was calibrated perfectly—enough to disable but not seriously injure.

  Within moments, Dhurge found himself on one knee, his right arm temporarily paralyzed, his bance compromised by strategic strikes to key muscle groups. Before he could recover, Azreth positioned himself behind the warrior, one hand posed to deliver a knockout blow to the base of his skull.

  "Yield," Azreth suggested quietly.

  For several heartbeats, silence gripped the crowd. Never had they seen Dhurge—undefeated champion of countless challenges—brought to his knees by anyone, let alone a young newcomer with an unremarkable aura.

  Pride warred with reason in the warrior's expression. Finally, pragmatism won. "I yield," he growled, the words clearly painful to pronounce.

  "Match concluded," Elder Krath announced, his voice betraying rare surprise. "Victory to Azreth."

  As the protective wards deactivated, Azreth did something unexpected—he extended his hand to help Dhurge rise, then quickly pressed specific points on the warrior's paralyzed arm, restoring circution and function.

  "A healer's knowledge applies to more than treating illness," he expined quietly. "The paralysis will fade completely by morning."

  Dhurge studied him with newfound respect tinged with wariness. "Your combat style is... unusual. Not typical demon techniques."

  "I observe and adapt," Azreth replied, careful to avoid specifics. "Your strength is impressive, but predictable."

  The warrior accepted this assessment with surprising grace. "Next time, I won't underestimate you." It wasn't a threat, but a professional acknowledgment between fighters.

  As the crowd dispersed, discussions already brewing about the unexpected outcome, Verna approached with an expression of amused disbelief.

  "That was... not what anyone expected," she stated. "Dhurge hasn't lost a challenge in seven years."

  Azreth shrugged, pying down his achievement. "He relied too much on strength and intimidation. Against a smaller opponent, technique matters more."

  "Where did you learn to fight like that?" she pressed. "Those weren't standard combat moves."

  "Observation and necessity," he deflected. "When you're smaller than most, you adapt or die."

  Verna clearly didn't fully believe him, but she seemed to accept that he wouldn't eborate further. "Well, your position here just changed dramatically. Defeating Dhurge means the warriors will respect you, even if they don't understand you."

  Her prediction proved accurate. Over the following days, Azreth noticed a distinct shift in how settlement members treated him. The dismissive gnces transformed into curious, sometimes wary observation. Young demons began approaching him for training advice, while older members acknowledged him with respectful nods.

  Even Elder Krath summoned him for a private conversation, probing more deeply into his background and abilities. Azreth maintained his cover story while demonstrating enough knowledge and skill to satisfy the Elder's concerns about his usefulness to the settlement.

  Two months after his arrival, Azreth had established himself as an integral part of Shadowmist. His healing abilities, combined with his unexpected combat prowess, earned him a unique position in the community—not quite fitting any traditional role, but valued nonetheless.

  His friendship with Verna deepened gradually. They often met at the eastern watchtower before dawn, sharing quiet conversations as they observed the forest awakening. She remained intensely private about her past, but occasionally offered glimpses into her experiences as a demon with void-sight in a world that feared such mutations.

  "They called me 'cursed' in my birth cn," she confided one morning as they watched mist rise from the forest canopy. "Abandoned me at the edge of their territory when my eyes turned white. Voidlings aren't welcomed in traditional demon society."

  "Their loss," Azreth replied simply. "Your sight has saved this settlement numerous times."

  She smiled faintly. "Shadowmist accepts outcasts other communities reject. It's why most of us are here."

  That fundamental truth helped expin why Azreth had been able to integrate despite his unusual qualities. Everyone in the settlement carried some form of difference or past they preferred not to discuss.

  As autumn approached, bringing longer shadows and colder mists to the forest, Azreth noticed concerning patterns emerging. The settlement's miners returned from expeditions with reports of unusual human activity near the Scar—increased Padin patrols, new defensive instaltions, magical sensors being established.

  During a community council meeting, Dhurge reported these findings with evident concern. "They're preparing for something. Fifteen years I've scouted the bordernds, and I've never seen such concentrated human presence."

  Elder Krath stroked his chin thoughtfully. "The Church rarely mobilizes Padins in such numbers without purpose. Could they be pnning a major incursion?"

  "Possibly," Dhurge acknowledged. "But why now? Nothing has changed in the bance of power."

  Azreth, listening from the gathering's edge, knew better. According to Vexerus's memories, the power vacuum at the Blood Citadel was creating instability throughout the demon realm. The Church, ever vigint for such opportunities, would be eager to capitalize on demonic disunity.

  After the meeting, he approached Elder Krath privately. "I may have insights that could help the settlement prepare," he offered cautiously.

  The Elder studied him with renewed intensity. "I've suspected there was more to you than you've revealed, young Azreth. Your combat technique against Dhurge showed training beyond what a vilge healer's son should possess."

  "My background doesn't change my loyalty to Shadowmist," Azreth assured him. "You've given me sanctuary when I had nowhere else to go."

  Krath considered this. "Very well. Share your insights."

  Drawing on Vexerus's strategic knowledge and Kael's understanding of Church tactics, Azreth outlined potential defensive improvements—changes to patrol patterns, early warning systems using the natural environment, and methods for countering divine magic without direct confrontation.

  The Elder listened with growing interest. "These are not the strategies of a healer, nor a common warrior," he observed when Azreth finished. "You speak of human tactics with unusual familiarity."

  "I've... studied them," Azreth replied carefully. "Understanding an enemy improves survival chances."

  "Indeed." Krath didn't press further, but his expression suggested he recognized there were significant omissions in Azreth's expnation. "I'll consider your suggestions. Dhurge will implement those I approve."

  Over the following weeks, many of Azreth's recommended changes were gradually incorporated into the settlement's defensive preparations. Verna, who participated in implementing the new patrol patterns, commented on their effectiveness.

  "The motion-sensing fungi along the southern approach?" she said during one of their dawn meetings. "Brilliant adaptation of natural resources. It detected a human scout three days ago before any of our guards spotted him."

  Azreth nodded, pleased the system had proven its worth. "The forest provides everything we need if we work with it instead of just existing within it."

  "That's not typical demon thinking," Verna observed. "Most of our kind view the environment as something to dominate or consume."

  "Perhaps that's why humans have gained advantage over time," Azreth suggested. "They adapt environments to serve them, creating sustainable systems rather than just exploiting resources until they're depleted."

  Verna tilted her head curiously. "You speak of humans with unusual objectivity."

  "Hatred clouds judgment," he replied, echoing one of Vexerus's frequent teachings. "Understanding an enemy's strengths allows for more effective opposition."

  Their conversation was interrupted by arm calls from the western watchtower. Both immediately rose, rushing toward the commotion.

  A hunting party had returned early, carrying a severely injured scout. The demon's chest bore the unmistakable burn pattern of a Padin's blessed weapon—a wound that would typically be fatal. Without hesitation, Azreth took charge, directing the hunters to bring the injured scout to the healing quarters.

  Varik was away collecting rare fungi, leaving Azreth to handle the emergency alone. Drawing on his mother's healing knowledge, Vexerus's magical understanding, and even Kael's experience with divine magic, he developed a treatment approach no ordinary demon healer would conceive.

  "I need void moss, crystallized shadow essence, and blood from a healthy donor with compatible energy patterns," he instructed the gathered helpers.

  The required items were quickly assembled. Under the watching eyes of concerned settlement members, Azreth combined them into a poultice that pulsed with strange energy—neither purely demonic nor recognizably divine, but something in between.

  "This will neutralize the divine energy preventing natural healing," he expined as he applied the mixture to the scout's wound. "Then his own regenerative abilities can function."

  The treatment worked with remarkable effectiveness. Within hours, the scout—who by all traditional expectations should have died—stabilized, his body beginning to heal around the neutralized wound.

  Word of the miracle cure spread quickly through Shadowmist. By evening, Elder Krath himself visited the healing quarters to witness the results.

  "You've developed a counter to divine weapons," he stated, his tone indicating he understood the significance of such an achievement. "This knowledge could save countless demon lives."

  Azreth nodded, careful to frame his expnation within acceptable parameters. "I combined traditional healing with observations about how divine energy disrupts our natural regeneration. The principle is simir to treating poisoning—neutralize the foreign substance, then support the body's recovery."

  "Remarkable insight for one so young," Krath observed. "You continue to surprise us, Azreth."

  As the Elder departed, Verna remained behind, her pupilless eyes fixed on Azreth with unnerving intensity.

  "That wasn't just clever healing," she said quietly when they were alone. "No demon understands divine magic well enough to counter it so effectively. That knowledge comes from somewhere else."

  Azreth tensed, uncertain how to respond. Their friendship had grown substantial over the months, but revealing his true nature remained an enormous risk.

  "I've studied many healing traditions," he deflected.

  Verna stepped closer. "My void-sight shows me things others can't perceive. I've seen how your aura shifts when you draw on different knowledge—almost as if multiple patterns exist within you."

  Arm coursed through him. "What are you suggesting?"

  "I don't know exactly," she admitted. "But you're not simply a demon with unusual training. You're... something I've never encountered before." She paused, then added softly, "And I don't think it's something I should fear, despite how unusual it is."

  The moment hung between them—an opportunity for truth, or continued concealment. Before Azreth could decide, a commotion outside interrupted their conversation.

  Dhurge burst into the healing quarters, his expression grim. "Elder Krath has called an emergency council. All capable fighters and strategists are required immediately."

  "What's happening?" Verna demanded.

  The warrior's face darkened. "Our long-range scouts have confirmed it. The humans are mobilizing in force—Padins, Church Sentinels, blessed war machines. This isn't a raid." He met their eyes gravely. "It's an invasion."

  The implications were clear. Shadowmist Settlement stood directly in the path between the human forces and the deeper demon territories. Whatever the Church was pnning, the small community would be among the first casualties unless they found a way to prepare, evade, or somehow overcome the coming storm.

  As Azreth followed Dhurge toward the council meeting, he felt Verna's gaze on his back—curious, concerned, but not hostile despite her growing suspicions about his true nature. He had found not just sanctuary in Shadowmist, but something he hadn't expected: belonging.

  Now that community faced existential threat, and Azreth faced an impossible choice. Could he use his unique knowledge and abilities to save the settlement without revealing his dual nature? And if his secret was exposed, would these demons who had accepted him see his human aspect as the ultimate betrayal?

  With Vexerus's prophecy weighing on his mind, Azreth steeled himself for decisions that might forever alter his path in this second life.