We followed the clues to the edge of Valebrook, to a ruined chapel that looked like it hadn't seen a prayer in a hundred years.
"What are we even looking for?" I asked.
"Signs of influence," Aelira replied. "People don't just walk into the woods and disappear. Not without someone pulling strings."
"Great. So we're chasing some forest whisperer."
But as we stepped inside the chapel, we found something worse.
---
The Believers
The chapel wasn't empty.
Inside were at least a dozen people, standing still like statues, eyes glassy. Around them, scribbled in chalk and charcoal, were strange phrases.
> "He said the forest would accept us."
"He told me I was chosen."
"He speaks, and I believe."
I swallowed hard. "Okay, yeah. This is culty. Super culty."
Aelira scanned the room, blades in hand.
And then—we heard footsteps.
---
The Man Who Speaks Truth
He walked in casually. White cloak. Barefoot. A strangely calm smile. His presence made the room tense.
But it wasn't magic. It wasn't aura.
It was confidence.
"Ah," he said, voice soft and melodic. "The Yes King. At last."
I took a step forward. "Who are you?"
He bowed. "I am Lucen. Prophet, wanderer… and bearer of Veritas."
"…Veritas?"
"The truth," he said, eyes gleaming. "Everything I say becomes reality in the minds of others. I do not command. I convince. I do not force. I reshape belief."
My blood ran cold.
He looked at his followers, then back at me.
"You say 'yes,' and people obey. I say 'truth,' and they follow forever."
---
Aelira stepped in front of me. "You're behind the disappearances."
Lucen didn't deny it.
"I told them the forest would embrace them," he said. "They believed. Isn't that beautiful?"
"That's horrifying," I snapped.
He smiled wider.
"Then let's see whose word holds more weight, 'King.' Let the world decide: obedience or belief?"
---
[To be continued…]