The Battle of the Vale
The first strike between Kael and Aureon split the sky like thunder. Light met darkness. Fire met purity. The Darksword screamed through the air, its blackened blade crashing against the golden gleam of the Lightbrand.
The shockwave threw soldiers to the ground.
Kael's heart pounded as Aureon pushed forward with surprising speed. Every move was precise, controlled—trained by centuries of hidden legacy.
"You fight like a priest," Kael growled.
"And you fight like a man possessed."
Aureon's blade seared the air with radiance. Kael dodged, but sparks of light grazed his side, leaving burning welts.
The Fireborne charged behind him. The Knights of Myrrhold surged in response. The field became a chaos of red and silver, embers and frost.
Magic tore across the land.
But in the eye of the storm, Kael and Aureon clashed alone, as if they were the only ones left in the world.
A Kingdom Torn
Far beyond the battlefield, Rhena watched from a ridge, flanked by former Fireborne who had turned against Kael. She hadn't returned to Myrrhold—she didn't trust the crown or its heir. But she couldn't sit idle either.
"He's too far gone," one of her allies muttered.
"No," she said quietly, watching the flicker of Kael's flames in the distance. "He's still in there. But every time that sword sings, I think it's pulling him deeper."
"What will you do?"
Rhena didn't answer.
Beneath the Light
Kael was bleeding.
Not from a wound Aureon had made—but from the inside. The Darksword's power surged through him like molten iron, twisting his veins, warping his sight. His thoughts began to splinter.
He saw faces.
The Leviathan. His sister. His mother's screams. The girl he couldn't save in Hollowdeep.
He staggered. Aureon noticed.
"You don't have to carry it alone," the prince said softly, holding his sword low. "Let it go. Let me carry it."
Kael looked up—and for a split second, the fury died in his eyes.
That was when the Darksword roared.
Not in sound, but in soul.
"He is not worthy."
Flames exploded around Kael as the sword unleashed a storm. Aureon was thrown back. The sky darkened unnaturally, and the land trembled.
Kael's voice came out in a low rasp.
"Get up, Prince of Light. If you fall now… there's no one left."
The Turning
Aureon rose, coughing blood, but his grip never wavered.
"I didn't come here to destroy you," he said. "But if the Darksword has taken you, I will destroy it."
Kael's laugh was hollow. "Try."
Aureon rushed forward, Lightbrand glowing with impossible brilliance. The blades met again—and this time, the Lightbrand cracked.
Kael froze.
So did Aureon.
A fracture—thin, nearly invisible—ran down the center of the legendary sword of light.
The Darksword pulsed, triumphant.
Kael felt sick. "What did I do?"
Aureon stepped back, shock in his eyes. "No. No, that's not possible."
"He is breaking," the Darksword whispered.
Kael dropped the weapon.
The Choice
For the first time in what felt like years, silence reigned.
The battlefield slowed. Soldiers stopped. The sky lightened.
Kael stared at his hands. Burned. Bloodied. But his.
"I wanted to save them," he said aloud. "All of them."
Aureon sheathed his broken sword. "Then you still can."
The Fireborne looked to their master. Some lowered their weapons. Others hesitated.
Kael raised his head.
"I am Kael," he said. "Not the Fire King. Not the weapon. Not the curse."
He turned and looked at Rhena—she had stepped down onto the battlefield without fear.
He held out the Darksword to her.
"End it."
She stared at him.
And took it.
When Light Fails
The Darksword shuddered in her hands. It knew she wasn't the chosen wielder. It rejected her. Sparks flared. Fire lashed her wrists.
But she didn't drop it.
"I'm not here to wield you," she whispered. "I'm here to bury you."
With a scream, she drove the sword into the ground.
The earth cracked. The sky opened.
Light and darkness surged upward like a pillar into the heavens. The battlefield was washed in flame and snow, in memory and hope.
When it ended, the Darksword was gone.
So was its voice.
And Kael—Kael was still standing.
Free.
After the Storm
They didn't rebuild the empire overnight.
But the war stopped.
Kael vanished for weeks. Rumors said he was seen in the southern marshes, helping rebuild burned villages. Others said he'd gone to the Broken Coast to find his mother's grave.
Aureon returned to Myrrhold, sword reforged but pride humbled.
Rhena stayed behind—on the border, watching. Waiting.
For peace to truly arrive.
But deep beneath the earth, in a cavern lined with bones older than kings, a faint flicker of black fire still pulsed.
Watching.
Waiting.