The fortress chapel was lit by guttering candles and the faint glow of dawn. Kael sat at the altar, his hands trembling, as Vaessara traced ancient runes in the dust between them. Lira stood guard at the door, her sword drawn, eyes wary for any sign of betrayal.
Vaessara's voice was barely a whisper. "The prophecy speaks of a child born of two worlds—blood of the Bound Flame, heart of the mortal realm. Only such a one can close the gate, or open it forever."
Kael's breath caught. "You mean me."
Vaessara nodded. "My father's blood runs in your veins. You are his legacy—and his greatest threat."
Lira's jaw tightened. "Why didn't you tell us sooner?"
Vaessara's eyes flashed with pain. "Because I wasn't sure. The signs were hidden, the truth buried. My father feared you, even before you were born. That's why he ordered your mother's death."
Kael's world tilted. He remembered fragments—dreams of fire, a woman's voice singing him to sleep, a shadow that stole her away. Rage and grief warred within him.
"He killed her," Kael whispered. "He killed her because of me."
Vaessara reached for his hand, her touch gentle. "You are not to blame. You are hope, Kael. The only hope either world has left."
A sudden crash echoed through the chapel. Lira spun, sword raised, as a group of soldiers burst in—faces twisted with fear and suspicion.
"Step away from the demon!" one shouted, leveling a spear at Vaessara.
Kael rose, power crackling in his veins. "She's not the enemy. If you want to survive what's coming, you'll listen."
The soldiers hesitated, torn between fear and the authority in Kael's voice. Lira stepped forward, her presence commanding.
"Lower your weapons. That's an order."
Reluctantly, the soldiers obeyed, but their eyes lingered on Kael and Vaessara, mistrust simmering.
Vaessara turned back to Kael, urgency in her voice. "We don't have much time. My father knows you're here. He's coming."
Kael nodded, resolve hardening within him. "Then we face him together."
Lira sheathed her sword. "We gather our allies and make for the gate. If we're to end this, it must be now."
As they left the chapel, Kael felt the fire within him burn brighter—not with rage, but with purpose. The truth of his birth was a wound, but also a weapon. He would use it to forge a new fate, or die trying.
Outside, the sky was streaked with crimson. The world was on the brink, and Kael Rennar was ready to meet it.