The fortress of Twelve Moons stood atop a jagged hill, its seven towers reaching for a sky bruised with storm. For centuries, it had guarded the border between the human kingdoms and the wild lands beyond. Now, its walls shook beneath the fury of the Great Demon War.
Kael watched from the battlements as the demon host gathered below, a tide of black armor and burning banners. The air was thick with the stench of sulfur and the screams of the dying. Arrows hissed through the sky, and the ground trembled with the march of monstrous feet.
He gripped his sword, knuckles white. The king had sent him here as a symbol—proof that Morgrave still trusted its half-demon son. But Kael knew the truth. He was both shield and scapegoat, a living wager on the hope that loyalty could overcome blood.
General Lira Valen rode along the ramparts, her armor battered, her face streaked with ash. She barked orders to the defenders, her voice cutting through the chaos like a blade.
"Hold the gates! Reinforce the east wall! Archers, with me!"
Kael fell in beside her, his presence drawing wary glances from the soldiers. Lira met his gaze, her eyes hard but not unkind.
"Ready?" she asked.
He nodded. "As I'll ever be."
The first wave hit the walls with the force of a hurricane. Demons scaled the stone, their claws raking sparks, their eyes burning with hate and hunger. Kael fought at Lira's side, his sword singing through flesh and shadow alike. For every demon that fell, two more took its place.
A horn sounded from the enemy lines—a signal. The ground split open, and a monstrous beast surged forth, its body wreathed in flame. Kael felt the demon blood in his veins respond, a surge of heat and power that threatened to consume him.
He staggered, vision blurring. For a moment, he saw through the beast's eyes—saw the world as a tapestry of hunger and rage. He forced the vision away, driving his blade into the creature's heart. It shrieked and fell, fire spilling across the stones.
The defenders cheered, but Kael felt only dread. The power inside him was growing, wild and unpredictable.
As night fell, the siege ground on. Supplies dwindled, and the wounded filled the halls. Lira found Kael in the chapel, his hands shaking.
"You saved us today," she said quietly.
Kael shook his head. "I lost control. I saw... things. Felt things. If the others knew—"
"They won't," Lira said. "You're not alone in this."
He looked at her, hope flickering in his eyes. "Why do you trust me?"
She hesitated. "Because I've seen what monsters truly are. And you're not one of them."
A messenger burst in, breathless. "General! The enemy is regrouping. They're preparing for another assault."
Lira straightened. "We hold until dawn. No matter the cost."
Kael rose, sword in hand. As he followed Lira back to the walls, he felt the weight of prophecy pressing down on him. The fate of the world balanced on a knife's edge—and his blood was the blade.