Tales Of Aria“The Lost Heir”

Chapter Six: Escape From Kralsar

Kael’s sharp gaze caught a silhouette in the distance. “The old windmill,” he said, breathless. “We can hide there.”

Kieran followed his brother’s line of sight and nodded. “Go. I’ll cover the rear.”

They tore through the forest like hunted prey. Branches clawed at their skin, and the cries of wolves howled behind them, chilling the night. The scent of blood lingered in the air—Kael was still wounded. Every heartbeat was a countdown.

The windmill loomed like a ghost against the star-swept sky, its sails broken and groaning as they turned lazily in the wind. Ivy strangled its base, and its old stone walls looked ready to crumble. But it was a shelter. And for now, that was all they needed.

Aria reached the door first, shoving it open. They slipped inside one after the other, slamming it shut behind them. The interior swallowed them in darkness. The air was thick with the scent of mold and rot. It felt ancient, forgotten.

Kael leaned against the door, breathing heavily. “It’ll hold,” he said, though his voice lacked conviction.

Aria moved deeper into the room, her eyes adjusting. Dust floated in moonbeams slicing through the cracks. A rusted ladder led to an upper loft. Broken furniture lay scattered, and old sacks of grain molded in the corners.

“We can’t stay long,” Kieran said, checking the windows. “They’re close.”

A soft creak from above silenced them.

Aria stiffened.

Kael’s eyes narrowed. “Something’s up there.”

“Just the wind?” Aria whispered hopefully.

Kieran shook his head. “No. That was footsteps.”

Kael drew his dagger. “I’ll check it out.”

He ascended the ladder slowly. Each rung groaned under his weight. Aria stood below, heart pounding, eyes never leaving his silhouette. Kieran positioned himself near the base, blade drawn, ready for anything.

Kael reached the loft and paused. “There’s… something here,” he whispered.

Aria strained to hear. The silence dragged.

Then—another creak.

Kael turned quickly, blade raised. “It’s watching me,” he said, barely audible. “I can feel it.”

Aria shivered. “What is it?”

“I don’t know. But it’s not a wolf.”

Kieran exchanged a glance with Aria. “Maybe Malakai’s sent something else.”

Kael crouched, eyes scanning the shadows. He moved slowly toward a pile of cloth—then froze. A soft breath. Not his.

Then eyes—glowing faintly from within the darkness.

A figure.

Small. Frail. Shaking.

Kael lowered his blade just slightly. “It’s a child.”

Aria’s breath caught. “A child?”

The figure whimpered, pressing itself further into the corner. Kael knelt down slowly. “Hey… it’s okay. We’re not going to hurt you.”

The girl didn’t respond. Her eyes were wide with terror, her body bruised and filthy.

“She’s been hiding here a long time,” Kael said. “And she’s terrified.”

Aria climbed up carefully. “Do you think she saw something?”

Kael nodded. “I think she saw everything.”

Aria’s throat tightened as she looked at the girl. Her fur was matted with dried blood, her limbs trembling. She looked no older than seven, and her clothes were torn—wolf-borne scratches across her arms and shoulders.

“She’s not just scared,” Kieran said quietly. “She’s broken.”

Kael exhaled, crouching closer. “We can’t leave her here. Not like this.”

“We don’t even know who she is,” Aria murmured, but her heart ached with a quiet ache. She moved forward and slowly reached out her hand. “What’s your name?”

The girl flinched but whispered something barely audible.

Aria leaned in. “Say it again?”

“Luna,” the girl whispered. “My name is Luna.”

Kael froze. The name struck something deep in him.

“That’s… impossible,” he muttered, almost to himself.

Kieran looked over, brows furrowed. “What is it?”

Kael didn’t answer right away. He stared at Luna, something dark flickering in his gaze. “That was our mother’s name.”

Silence fell again.

The wolves outside had quieted, but inside the windmill, something far more unsettling had just been awakened.