Morning came not with sun, but with the slow bleeding of night into an ashen sky. A faint halo of light stretched above the horizon, yet the clouds hung too heavy to let day truly arrive. Frost clung stubbornly to the road, crunching under boots as Kel and his group left the inn behind.
The inn's smoke dispersing in the wind was the last trace of temporary warmth.
Ahead, the world stretched in silence.
Vanhart territory lay north-east.
Hostile, complicated, and bearing ties to one of their own.
Kel walked at the front.
Reina matched his left pace, spear upright, breath condensing in even rhythm. Landon followed on the right, steady and grounded. Sera was last in line, one step behind them. Her cloak shifted in the wind, revealing flashes of noble stitching beneath barbarian furs.
They moved without conversation.
The air between them held the weight of last night's words.
Sera's past had been spoken.
Not solved.
But shared.
A thin sheet of snow, barely covering the soil, dragged like worn parchment beneath their feet. Kel's eyes swept the terrain. His steps were light despite the earth's drag. He was the only one not visibly bothered by the cold. Even the wind seemed to hesitate as it touched him.
A whisper rippled through their surroundings.
Barely audible.
Barely traceable.
Something watching.
Reina's fingers twitched near her spear.
Landon's pace subtly shifted—his steps lowering gravity so he could react faster.
Kel's gaze did not move.
He had already felt it.
A presence.
Subtle.
Hidden.
Moving with caution behind them.
Only visible to someone who knew how to read wind patterns instead of tracks.
He inhaled slowly.
At that moment, the faintest ripple stirred in his consciousness.
Kel.
Sairen's voice, calm as water beneath moonlight.
Inward.
Someone follows.
He didn't turn.
I noticed.
You intend to ignore? her question slid through his thoughts like fog.
Kel's eyes lowered a fraction.
No.
The next thought held a cold edge.
Let's catch them.
His step shifted.
Without warning—
Kel vanished from formation.
Snow shattered under his sudden acceleration, wind splitting around him as his cloak sliced through the air. He didn't release aura. Didn't use mana. Raw strength and refined agility alone carried him sideways, cutting into the forest beside the road like a slicing gale.
Reina froze mid-step.
Landon halted instantly.
Sera blinked, startled.
Kel looked back only once.
His eyes caught theirs for a fleeting moment—
sharp.
Cold.
Do not follow.
He didn't speak it.
He didn't need to.
His expression said enough.
Then he disappeared deeper between the trees.
Snow fell silently in his wake.
He stopped at a clearing where light could reach through sparse canopy. A thin layer of frozen earth cracked beneath his boots. Mist rose from the ground, thinning over brittle grass.
The world held its breath.
Kel did not need to turn.
The hidden presence, realizing Kel had separated from his group, parted from the shadows—still concealed, still cautious.
They lingered at the edge of reach.
Kel's eyes narrowed slightly.
Close enough.
He spoke within.
—Sairen.
Her presence stirred.
Yes.
Kel remained still.
Do you know any Domain spells?
A faint ripple answered, tinged with pride.
I am master of Dominion.
Kel's lips curved slightly.
Not amusement.
Acknowledgment.
Then, he thought, I request you create one. As broad as you can. Soundproof. No noise leaves the boundary.
A pause.
Mist thickened above the ground.
Sairen's reply came, voice laced with quiet dryness.
Do not order me, Kel.
His breath steadied.
It is not an order. I am asking.
Another beat of silence.
Then—
Very well.
The world shifted.
It began under his feet.
A quiet resonance pushing into soil.
Air stilled.
Snowflakes hung mid-fall.
The color leached from the surroundings—trees, ground, sky—until everything fell into muted tones of slate and black.
Mist swelled, rising like slow breath.
The temperature dropped.
Grey ripples expanded from Kel at the center, forming a ring—silent, seamless, and completely isolating.
A Domain of Still Water.
Sound died.
Movement slowed beyond its threshold.
Inside—
there was only Kel.
And the man who had followed.
The stalker, caught too late, realized the cage snapping closed much earlier than their reflex allowed.
They appeared out of the faded foliage—a man cloaked in mottled ash-grey, his movements trained to silence. Skilled.
Very skilled.
But not at Kel's level anymore.
Kel turned.
His eyes now carried nothing of warmth.
Only the clarity of someone who had been forced to learn how to kill without hesitation.
He stepped toward the man.
Every footfall muted.
"Come forward."
Not spoken.
The words reached the man directly, via telepathic link granted through the Domain.
In here—
even breathing belonged to Kel's permission.
The man hesitated.
Kel's gaze hardened.
He obeyed.
Not because of fear.
Because his instincts told him resistance here was meaningless.
He stepped from concealment, face partly hidden by scarf and hood.
"Reveal yourself," Kel whispered.
Or the thought of his voice did.
The man lowered his scarf.
Rough skin.
Cold eyes.
No hostility.
Only readiness.
"Who are you," Kel asked.
"And why have you been following me and my companions?"
The man's eyes shifted.
Measured.
He exhaled.
"My name is Zephryn Kaelstrom," he said slowly. "Wanderer by choice. Shadow by profession."
His gaze steadied on Kel.
"I was asked," he continued, "to ensure the safety of Duke Rosenfeld's son should he encounter threat outside estate."
Kel did not blink.
"Kel von Rosenfeld," Zephryn said.
"No matter what name you wear."
The frost between them sharpens.
Kel's expression did not soften.
"No matter what world you walk in, young master," Zephryn added.
Kel stared like ice.
Remorseless.
Unshaken.
When he spoke—
it was a whisper.
Yet far colder than anything else present.
"Then why," he asked, "did you not intervene?"
He took one slow step toward Zephryn.
"You watched us enter barbarian land," he said. "You saw me walk with my curse. You watched my companions bleed. You watched Sera drag herself through her past."
"And yet…" Kel's eyes narrowed.
"You never stepped forward."
A pause.
Zephryn lowered his head.
"Because the Duke told me," he said quietly, "to intervene only if your life was about to be extinguished. Not to stand in the way of your path."
He looked up.
Sincerity shining with frost.
"He said—" Zephryn's voice dropped lower. "If Kel is going to survive in this world, it must be because he chooses to—"
Kel's heartbeat stilled.
Zephryn's voice finished the sentence.
"—not because we carried him."
Silence.
The Domain felt like a held breath.
Kel lowered his gaze.
A long, measured inhale.
Then—
he exhaled.
Slow.
Controlled.
The glacial intensity in his eyes softened—fractionally.
He looked away from Zephryn, into the mist surrounding them.
Arcturus von Rosenfeld.
That man…
Understanding shifted behind Kel's composure.
Not forgiveness.
Not affection.
Recognition.
Zephryn watched carefully.
Kel finally spoke.
"You may continue to follow," he said, voice returning to its usual cold calm.
"If you wish."
Zephryn nodded.
"But," Kel added, turning—
eyes sharp again—
"You will show yourself before I must summon a Domain next time."
Zephryn understood.
Kel took one step beyond him.
"And Zephryn," he added without turning back.
The shadow operative straightened.
Kel's profile was barely visible through the mist.
"Tell my father…"
His breath rose.
Weightless.
"…that I am surviving."
He paused.
Then—
"…by my choice."
The Domain dissolved.
Sound returned.
The world resumed.
Kel walked back toward the road.
No longer hurried.
No longer hiding his strength.
Zephryn remained standing.
Snow resumed falling around him.
And though his face was hard, his words were barely audible.
"…Yes, young master."
Kel emerged between the trees.
Reina, Landon, and Sera waited where he'd left them.
None spoke.
Their eyes searched his face.
He brushed past without mood shift.
"Let's go," he said.
And they walked.
Leaving behind not just a shadow—
but a message not spoken aloud,
carried across falling snow.