The following morning began with an argument.
Not between Lucien and Kael'Thar.
Not between Kael'Thar and the townsfolk.
Not even between Lucien and Garfield.
It was an argument between Kael'Thar and reality itself.
The demon lord sat at the large wooden table in his study, surrounded by towering stacks of books that had been accumulating since dawn. Ancient tomes, forgotten records, bestiaries so old their pages threatened to crumble with every turn—none of them seemed capable of providing the answer he sought.
Meanwhile, the source of his frustration slept peacefully on top of a pile of priceless manuscripts.
The small black cat was lying on its back, belly exposed to the air, snoring loudly enough to shake a loose sheet of paper from a nearby shelf.
Kael'Thar stared at it.
The cat snored.
Kael'Thar stared harder.
The cat rolled over and continued sleeping.
A vein appeared on the demon lord's forehead.
Lucien, seated across the room, wisely chose not to comment.
Over the years, he had learned many things.
One of them was that silence was often the safest option.
Especially when Kael'Thar looked like that.
Finally, after several minutes, the demon lord closed yet another book and leaned back in his chair.
"I hate this creature."
The cat immediately opened one eye.
As though personally offended.
Lucien glanced up from the book he was reading.
"You don't hate him."
"I do."
"You carried him here yesterday."
"I should have left him in the forest."
The cat yawned dramatically before stretching and climbing onto its feet.
Then it walked directly toward Kael'Thar.
For one brief moment, Lucien thought perhaps the creature had come to make peace.
Instead, it stole a biscuit from the table and ran.
Kael'Thar closed his eyes.
Very slowly.
Lucien looked away before he laughed.
The demon lord's dignity had suffered greatly over the last twenty-four hours.
Garfield seemed determined to make it worse.
The strange thing was that the cat appeared completely fearless.
Valdren's hunters feared Kael'Thar.
The city's guards feared Kael'Thar.
Most of the monsters in Eldryn feared Kael'Thar.
Garfield did not.
In fact, Garfield seemed to view him as little more than a walking source of irritation.
The cat spent the next hour proving this repeatedly.
At one point, it attempted to eat an enchanted compass.
At another, it tried to bite a chair.
Nobody knew why.
The chair had done nothing wrong.
Eventually, after consuming enough food to bankrupt a small village, the creature climbed onto Lucien's lap and fell asleep again.
Lucien looked down at the sleeping cat.
The cat looked up.
Their eyes met.
For a moment, neither moved.
Then the cat burped.
Lucien blinked.
"I think I'll call him Garfield."
Silence filled the room.
Kael'Thar slowly lowered the book he had been reading.
"...Garfield?"
Lucien nodded.
"Yes."
"Why?"
Lucien looked at the cat.
The cat had somehow managed to fall asleep again during the conversation.
Its round belly rose and fell with every breath.
"It fits."
Kael'Thar stared at him for several seconds.
Then at the cat.
Then back at Lucien.
"...I have lived for centuries."
Lucien waited.
"I have witnessed kingdoms rise and fall."
Still waiting.
"I have studied forbidden magic."
The pause grew longer.
"I have spoken with dragons."
Lucien tilted his head.
"And?"
Kael'Thar sighed.
"And somehow Garfield is the most ridiculous thing I have encountered."
The name remained.
Garfield seemed pleased.
Or perhaps he was simply dreaming about food.
With him, it was difficult to tell.
The rest of the morning passed peacefully.
For a while.
Then Kael'Thar left.
That alone caught Lucien's attention.
Normally, the demon lord informed him before disappearing into Eldryn.
Today he simply gathered several books, stored them inside a dimensional pouch, and headed toward the northern forest.
Toward the forbidden region.
Toward the place where the crimson light had appeared.
Toward the place he never allowed Lucien to visit.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Lucien watched him leave through the window.
Then returned to his studies.
At least, that was the plan.
Unfortunately, Garfield had plans of his own.
The cat spent the next several hours exploring every corner of the house.
Which would have been harmless if Garfield were a normal cat.
He wasn't.
By midday, he had eaten:
One spoon.
Half a candle.
A decorative crystal.
Three unknown herbs.
And part of a boot.
Lucien never discovered whose boot it had been.
Some mysteries were perhaps better left unsolved.
The real problem began shortly after sunset.
It started with Garfield.
More specifically, it started when Garfield suddenly stopped eating.
That alone was alarming.
The cat had been consuming objects continuously since the day they met.
Seeing him motionless felt unnatural.
Almost wrong.
Lucien noticed immediately.
Garfield stood near the front door.
His golden eyes stared toward the distant forest.
His tail remained perfectly still.
For the first time since arriving in Valdren, the cat looked serious.
Not playful.
Not hungry.
Serious.
Lucien closed his book.
"What is it?"
Garfield didn't respond.
Of course he didn't.
He was a cat.
Still, something felt strange.
The creature walked outside.
Lucien followed.
The evening air was cool.
The streets of Valdren had begun to empty as lanterns illuminated the approaching night.
Garfield continued moving.
Slowly.
Purposefully.
Toward the northern edge of town.
Toward Eldryn.
Lucien frowned.
A familiar feeling settled in his chest.
The same feeling he experienced whenever a puzzle presented itself.
Curiosity.
Dangerous.
Persistent.
Impossible to ignore.
As he reached the outskirts of the city, Garfield suddenly stopped.
The cat's ears twitched.
His fur rose slightly.
Then he growled.
A low sound.
Barely audible.
But unmistakable.
Lucien had never heard Garfield growl before.
The boy's expression hardened.
Slowly, he followed the creature's gaze.
At first, he saw nothing.
Only darkness between the trees.
Only shadows.
Only silence.
Then the figure moved.
A man.
Far away.
Standing among the forest's edge.
Watching Valdren.
Watching the city.
Watching... something.
The distance prevented Lucien from seeing his face.
Yet instinct immediately warned him.
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
The man remained motionless for several seconds.
Then turned.
And disappeared into the darkness.
Garfield's growl deepened.
Lucien remained where he was.
Thinking.
Observing.
Analyzing.
The man hadn't been hunting.
He hadn't been traveling.
He hadn't been lost.
No.
He had been watching.
The question was why.
And more importantly...
What exactly was he waiting for?
Far away, hidden deep within forgotten ruins beneath Eldryn's ancient roots, the same man stepped into a vast underground chamber illuminated by crimson light.
Ancient symbols covered every wall.
The air itself seemed heavier there.
Unnatural.
Alive.
The black stone floating before him pulsed softly.
Like a heartbeat.
The man smiled.
Not with madness.
Not with cruelty.
With certainty.
The certainty of someone who believed he had found the truth.
"Almost."
His voice echoed through the chamber.
The crimson light brightened.
The symbols responded.
And somewhere beyond the boundaries of the world...
Something listened.
End of Chapter 7