The blade gleamed beneath the ritual's pale firelight.
The Frostbound Kingdom lay wrapped in twilight, its crystal towers veiled with frost and whispering runes. Snow drifted through the air in quiet spirals, glinting against the banners of white and blue that lined the plaza. Thousands had gathered before the citadel — the day of the Frostbound Offering, a ritual older than the kingdom itself.
At the heart of the square stood the king — Kaerdrith's ruler — his eyes calm, his posture proud, unaware of the shadow that stood among his people.
The Hollow Dagger watched from the edge of the procession, her presence erased, her every breath disciplined into silence. The order had come moments ago — to strike when the hymn reached its peak.
She did not question.
She never had.
Her fingers brushed the blade at her hip, smooth and silent. A simple motion, mechanical, perfect.
Her heart did not beat; it only counted.
Her mind did not wonder; it only obeyed.
The hymn swelled.
And her body moved.
---
Far below, beneath layers of rock and forgotten divine seals, Kaelus stirred.
The chains that bound him trembled, their ancient runes flickering. They were not of mortal craft — they were the bindings of the Primordial Chaos God, written in the first tongue of uncreation. He had worn them longer than memory, through the fall of eras, through the death of stars. They pulsed faintly now, as if they too remembered pain.
He raised his head. His breath came out as mist, heavy with gold and blood. Around him, the vast cavern flickered with residual light — not daylight, but the faint reflection of memories he had tried to forget.
He could feel it — that pulse above, the movement of his daughter's blade. Her presence was faint but unmistakable, the echo of his own bloodline.
And with that pulse came visions, fragmented and sharp.
The Spirit Realm, radiant once — rivers of crystal, forests of living flame. He saw the Queen of Spirits, his beloved Serenia , her laughter like a chord of wind and moonlight. He saw her cradle their child in the gardens of Eltaran, whispering lullabies that could tame the stars.
Then — rupture.
A sky splitting apart. The humans' greed screaming across the heavens.
He had tried to break free then — he had screamed her name, Serenia! — but the chains had held. The Chaos God's laughter had echoed in his skull, cold and merciless:
"Even gods are bound by consequence, Kaelus."
He had begged. He had torn at his restraints until his own wings broke.
But nothing changed.
He could only watch through the fracture of his prison — watch the collapse of light, the fall of the Queen, the ruin of the child who bore both their blood.
When the smoke cleared, he saw his daughter dragged from the ruins, her spirit core torn out and replaced with silence. Her eyes, once the mirror of creation itself, became hollow glass.
And the worst—
The worst was when she looked up at her captor , Azeriel and called him Father.
That moment shattered what remained of Kaelus' reason.
The vault shook with the memory.
He could still hear it. The soft voice, obedient, unknowing. The sound that was supposed to be his joy had become his curse.
His body convulsed, divine blood spilling into the cracks of the earth.
The chains blazed in response, runes flaring red to suppress his will. The Chaos God's seal fought to contain him.
But something in him — something old, something refusing — ignited.
He had been the weapon of the first dawn, the blade of creation before light took form. And even the Chaos God had underestimated what sorrow could unmake.
"Serenia… Illyria…" he whispered. His voice was not sound, but tremor. "You suffered because of me, this curse shouldn't have been yours."
The last chain around his heart pulsed once, warning.
He smiled.
And pulled.
It screamed as it broke.
---
Above the Frostbound citadel, the world stopped.
The hymn froze mid-note.
The snow hung motionless in the air.
Flames paused in the act of burning.
Even the king's breath — half drawn — crystallized into stillness.
Only one being moved.
The Hollow Dagger stood over the dais, her blade half-raised toward the monarch's throat. She blinked, once, slowly, realizing that the world had gone silent. No wind. No sound. No movement.
Her eyes flicked upward.
The sky split open.
Light poured through the fracture, searing gold streaked with the faint shimmer of blood. From it descended a figure — tall, barefoot upon the air, long hair spilling black against the brilliance. His skin glowed faintly, like the memory of dawn, and from his eyes fell tears that burned as they fell, dissolving before they touched the frozen world.
The Hollow Dagger felt her pulse — the one she had forgotten existed — throb once. A sensation she couldn't name spread through her chest, tight, unbearable.
He landed before her, silent.
The chains that had once bound him were gone, only faint scars of light circling his wrists. His gaze found hers — not commanding, not pitying, but knowing.
She did not know him.
And yet her hands trembled.
Her mind repeated the order: Kill the king.
Her body hesitated.
The man looked at her the way sunlight looks at the sea before dying — with infinite tenderness, and sorrow too vast to bear.
"So this is what they made of you," he whispered. His voice was soft, but it rippled through the still air, a melody that made even the frozen flames quiver. "Forgive me, little one."
She could not speak.
The word forgive did not exist in her lexicon.
And yet, it echoed inside her — strange, painful, familiar.
He took a step closer. The light from him reflected against her mask, distorting his image into countless fragments. For the first time in centuries, she did not know what to do.
Her blade lowered — not much, but enough to defy perfection.
Something cracked inside her.
He smiled faintly, sorrow deepening. "They took everything from you… even your name."
Her eyes flickered — confusion, brief, then gone. The training reasserted. Her hand tightened again.
But before she could move, the man's form began to blur, dissolving into light. The world trembled. The pause began to fade.
And as time resumed its breath, his final whisper reached her ear — a sound so soft it could have been imagined.
"Even in ruin, my child, you are not lost."
---
The snow fell again.
The hymn resumed, unaware it had ever stopped.
The Hollow Dagger stood motionless, blade still in her hand, the world none the wiser. The king's throat was inches away — one flick, and the order would be fulfilled.
But her eyes, behind the mask, were trembling.
A tear — impossible, unwanted — slid down her cheek, freezing before it reached her jaw.
She did not know why.
She did not remember what she had seen.
But in her chest, something remembered him.
---
Far below, Kaelus fell to his knees among the ruins of his shattered prison.
His wings, torn and glowing, spread wide for the first time in an age.
He could barely breathe. The air smelled of salt — of tears, of her.
He smiled through blood.
"She saw me…"
However, he couldn't stay there for more time. So, he froze time again and this time he disappeared with his daughter Far into depths of an unknown place.