The road beyond the city was quiet.
Too quiet.
Kael noticed it first. Not with his eyes, but with his chest. The air felt heavy, as if the world itself was holding its breath. No birds flew above them. No insects sang from the grass. Even the wind moved carefully, like it did not want to be heard.
Ravik walked a few steps behind Kael, his boots crunching softly on the stone path.
"This place," Ravik said at last, "it listens."
Kael nodded. "I feel it."
They had left the city at dawn. The gates had opened without sound, and the guards had bowed without words. No one tried to stop them. No one tried to follow them.
That alone worried Kael more than an army would have.
Ahead of them stretched a wide plain of black stone. It looked smooth, almost polished, like glass that had cooled after fire. In the distance stood tall pillars, broken and leaning, as if they had once held up the sky.
"What was this place?" Kael asked.
Ravik slowed his steps. "A court. Long before kings used crowns."
Kael stopped walking.
"A court for who?" he asked.
Ravik met his eyes. "For those who judged gods."
Kael felt a chill move through him, but his face stayed calm. He turned back to the path and continued forward.
"If they judged gods," Kael said, "then they are gone now."
"Not gone," Ravik replied softly. "Silent."
As they walked deeper into the plain, Kael began to notice something strange. His shadow no longer moved with him. It stayed close, yes—but it lagged, as if deciding whether to follow.
He stopped again and looked down.
The shadow lifted its head.
Kael's hand moved to the hilt of his sword, but he did not draw it.
"I know you," Kael said quietly.
The shadow did not speak, but the ground beneath it cracked, forming thin glowing lines like veins of light.
Ravik stepped back. "Kael… this is not an enemy you fight."
"I know," Kael said. "It's a question."
The shadow grew taller. It took a shape that looked like Kael, but older. Tired. Heavy with unseen weight.
A voice rose from everywhere and nowhere.
"WHY DO YOU WALK FORWARD?"
Kael did not shout his answer.
"Because standing still lets others decide for you."
The light in the cracks pulsed.
"WHY DO YOU CARRY POWER?"
Kael breathed in slowly. He thought of the city. Of the palace. Of the dragon watching from afar. Of people who bowed because they were afraid, not because they trusted.
"So others don't have to," he said.
The shadow tilted its head.
"WHY DO YOU NOT RULE?"
Kael's grip tightened on his sword.
"Because ruling is easy," he said. "Listening is harder."
Silence spread across the plain. The pillars in the distance began to hum, low and deep, like a distant drum.
Ravik watched, unable to move.
The shadow stepped back into Kael's feet. It melted into him, leaving only the faint glow in the cracks, which slowly faded.
The air became lighter.
Kael exhaled.
"That was a test," Ravik said.
"No," Kael replied. "That was a warning."
They continued walking.
At the center of the plain stood a single structure untouched by time—a circular platform carved with symbols older than any language Kael knew. Floating above it was a thin ring of light, slowly spinning.
As Kael stepped onto the platform, the ring stopped.
The world went silent again—but this time, it was focused.
Kael felt eyes on him. Not from one direction. From all directions. From below the stone. From above the sky.
A presence settled over him.
Not violent.
Not kind.
Just aware.
"THE VRYLLOS BELYX MOVES," the presence said.
Kael did not deny it.
"Yes," he said.
"ITS SHADOW WILL FALL ON WORLDS."
"I know."
"YOU WALK AHEAD OF IT."
Kael raised his head. "Someone has to."
The ring of light lowered until it hovered just before Kael's face. Inside it, images formed—cities burning, skies tearing open, crowns breaking, children hiding, dragons screaming, and thrones left empty.
Then the images changed.
People standing together. Cities rebuilt. Dragons sleeping instead of raging. Power resting instead of ruling.
"THE PATH SPLITS," the presence said.
"ONE LEADS TO FEAR. ONE LEADS TO LOSS."
Kael looked at both futures.
"Loss is honest," he said. "Fear lies."
The ring shattered into harmless sparks that drifted into the air.
Ravik gasped as the ground beneath them shifted. The black stone plain began to crack, revealing soil beneath—real earth, alive and breathing.
The pillars straightened slightly, as if waking from sleep.
"You were accepted," Ravik said, awe in his voice.
"No," Kael replied. "I was allowed to continue."
They left the platform as the plain slowly returned to quiet stone.
As they walked away, far beyond sight, something ancient opened its eyes.
And somewhere in the sky, a great dragon turned its head.
Not in anger.
But in interest.
Kael faces a court that does not fight, threaten, or forgive. It only asks one thing: why.