Night came heavy and cold.
Kael couldn't sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw flashes — faces he didn't know, blood he couldn't forget.
He sat by the dying wardfire, watching the flames tremble against the wind. Lira slept a few feet away, her silver hair dimly aglow with soft mana light. She looked peaceful, untouched by the chaos he carried.
But peace, Kael thought, was a lie.
The sigil on his arm pulsed again — slow and rhythmic. Each pulse sent a shiver through his bones, a whisper into his thoughts. Words that weren't his own.
> "War is not destruction… it is memory."
He gripped his hand, teeth clenched. "What are you?" he muttered to himself.
The whisper answered.
> "What you were meant to be."
And suddenly, the world vanished.
He stood upon a field of endless ash. The sky was black and bleeding light. Thousands of soldiers knelt before him — humans, elves, and spirits alike — all bearing the mark of flame on their chests.
Above them towered banners of red and gold, torn but unbroken.
And before him — a woman.
She had eyes like dawnlight and armor of woven silver threads. Her expression was calm, sad… as if she already knew how the story would end.
> "Kael Varion," she said softly. "You can't win this."
"Then I'll end it," he replied, his voice colder than the wind.
"At what cost?"
"Peace."
He raised his blade, and the sky shattered into fire.
Kael gasped awake.
The fire was gone. Lira was kneeling beside him, her hand pressed against his chest, eyes wide with worry.
> "You were burning," she said breathlessly. "Your body — it was glowing with the same sigil. I couldn't stop it."
He looked down. The mark on his arm now reached his collarbone, glowing faintly beneath his skin.
He could still hear the echoes of that woman's voice — not Lira's, but someone from before. Someone important.
> "I remembered something," he said quietly.
"What did you see?"
"A war that broke the sky. And me — standing in the middle of it."
Lira's hand trembled. "The Final Convergence…" she whispered. "That's the war that ended the Age of Spirits. Kael, no one could've survived that."
He met her gaze — calm, but haunted. "Then maybe I didn't."
Silence hung between them. Only the whispering wind and the faint hum of his power filled the air.
Finally, Lira said, "If you truly are what I think you are… the Academy will want to study you. Or destroy you."
Kael's eyes hardened. "Then I'll find the truth before they do."
He rose, the night's air swirling faintly around him. The wind carried a sound — faint but clear — the toll of the Resonant Bells, coming from the distant towers of Ardentis.
Lira looked toward the horizon, where the first light of dawn touched the sky. "It's calling you again."
Kael nodded. "Then we keep moving."
As they set off toward the mountains, the sigil on his arm flared once more — and somewhere deep within Ardentis, the ancient Loom stirred, threads quivering in recognition.
> The Spirit of War was remembering.