Dawn never reached the ruins of Arenthil.
The black clouds had sealed the sky for days, as if the sun itself refused to look upon what had happened there. Kael walked among the shattered stones of the ancient temple, his cloak soaked with drizzle, his boots leaving red marks where the mud mixed with blood.He had killed again. Not for vengeance. Not for glory. Only because it was necessary.
The air smelled of iron, ash, and guilt.
In the darkness, Kael's golden eyes flickered open. It was as though the shadows themselves breathed with him — alive, waiting. Behind him, Aeryn —the sorceress who had sworn to kill him weeks ago— watched in silence. Her gaze was no longer filled with hatred, but with something harder to name: compassion. Or perhaps the fear that her compassion might damn them both.
"How many more, Kael?" she asked, her voice trembling."As many as it takes," he replied without turning. "Until the fire claims me… or until there's nothing left of me to burn."
Silence fell again. Only the sound of rain dripping into the pool at his feet.And in the middle of that pool… a rose. Red. Perfect. Floating as if mocking the chaos around it.
Kael stared at it for a long time. That flower should not be there.The symbol of the Crimson Order…His former brotherhood.The one that betrayed him.The one he had burned to the ground.
His jaw tightened.
"They found us," he whispered."How… how can they know we're still alive?" asked Aeryn.Kael lifted his head, his golden eyes burning through the gloom."Because they know me better than anyone. Because this—" he pointed at the rose "—is their way of saying the game isn't over."
A thunderclap echoed, shaking the ruins. From beneath the fallen arches, a dozen hooded figures emerged, carrying blue torches that didn't cast light — they devoured it.Kael turned slowly. Aeryn raised her staff, ready to fight.But he lifted a hand.
"No," he said coldly. "This is my past. Let me bury it… my way."
The rain became a downpour.The torches died.And Kael's golden eyes shone like twin suns in the dark.
The first enemy stepped forward. Then another.The air vibrated with a roar.And when steel clashed against steel, the rose floating in the pool turned darker, until it was almost black.
Hours later, only the sound of water striking stone remained.Kael knelt, exhausted, his breathing ragged. Aeryn ran to him, bleeding as well, fearing he was dead.But when her fingers touched his face, Kael smiled faintly.
"Do you see it, Aeryn?" he murmured, his voice broken. "The rose is still there. It always blooms again… where there was blood."
She looked at him, confused.
"What does that mean?"Kael closed his eyes."It means someone else… is coming."
And then a sound cut through the storm — slow, deliberate footsteps, accompanied by the drag of a sword over stone.A deep voice echoed among the ruins:
"Kael Ardent. The exile. The man who killed fire and still burns.""You took your time," Kael replied, rising to his feet, the black blade of his sword dripping rain."I came to offer what was denied to you. Redemption… or destruction. You choose."
Lightning lit their faces.Kael stepped forward, the shadow of a smile crossing his lips.
"Then let's talk about fire."