The first light of dawn had yet to touch the sky when the palace courtyard stirred with quiet movement. The torches along the stone walls still burned from the night before, casting elongated shadows over the armored figures preparing for the journey ahead. The air was thick with anticipation, though none spoke needlessly. Every motion was deliberate—checking weapons, adjusting saddles, securing supplies. This was not a march to war, not yet, but those gathered here knew the gravity of their mission.
Kaelen stood near his midnight-black stallion, running a gloved hand along the beast's sleek neck. The horse, sensing its rider's state of mind, let out a slow exhale, nostrils flaring. Kaelen was calm—outwardly, at least—but a storm brewed beneath the surface. He had felt it the moment he read Vaedrin's letter, and now, as he prepared to leave the safety of his kingdom's heart, it settled deeper into his bones.
Marevith approached, his golden eyes sharp even in the dim torchlight. "Everything is ready," he murmured, his voice low enough that only Kaelen could hear. "The men are prepared. We've selected twenty—only the most experienced. None who would hesitate when faced with the unknown."
Kaelen nodded, his gaze sweeping over the assembled warriors. Their armor was not the shining plate of ceremonial guards but the practical leather-and-mail of those who had seen true battle. Each bore the insignia of Vaeloria upon their chests—a silver serpent coiled around a crescent moon, the symbol of resilience and wisdom.
Vaedric stepped forward, his expression unreadable. "You still mean to lead this expedition yourself."
It was not a question.
Kaelen met his cousin's gaze and held it. "I do."
A pause. Then Vaedric exhaled through his nose, the closest thing to a sigh he would allow himself in public. "Then at least do not be reckless."
Kaelen almost smiled at that, but the weight of the moment held his expression steady. "I do not intend to die today, cousin."
Vaedric grunted. "Good. Try to keep it that way."
Marevith smirked at their exchange but said nothing, adjusting the hilt of his sword where it rested against his hip. He would remain in the capital, as would Vaedric, ensuring the kingdom's stability in Kaelen's absence. It was necessary, but part of Kaelen wished they could come with him.
A movement at the far side of the courtyard caught his attention.
A woman stood there, just beyond the firelight, watching.
Kaelen recognized her immediately—his aunt, Lady Varenthis, the last remaining sister of his late father. She was a striking figure, even now, dressed in dark traveling robes lined with silver embroidery. Though the years had touched her, she still carried herself with the quiet power of a warrior. Her long hair, the color of pale steel, was braided back, revealing sharp features that spoke of both royal blood and untamed spirit.
She stepped forward, her gaze unwavering as she approached.
"You are leaving before the sun rises," she observed, voice low but steady. "Like a thief slipping into the night."
Kaelen inclined his head. "I go to prevent the true thieves from taking more than they already have."
Lady Varenthis studied him for a long moment. Then, with slow deliberation, she reached into the folds of her cloak and withdrew something—a small silver pendant in the shape of a crescent moon, identical to the one Kaelen's father had once worn.
"This belonged to your father," she said, placing it in his hand. "He wore it when he rode into battle, though I imagine you remember that."
Kaelen did. He had been only a boy the first time he saw his father don the pendant before leaving for war. It was a symbol, not of power, but of duty.
Lady Varenthis' fingers curled briefly over his. "Return with it, nephew. I have already buried too many of our blood."
Kaelen closed his hand around the pendant. "I will."
She gave a small nod, stepping back into the shadows.
The sky was beginning to shift, deep blue giving way to the first hints of gray. It was time.
Kaelen mounted his horse in a single fluid motion, the beast shifting beneath him but standing firm. Around him, the others did the same, hooves striking softly against the stone as the group prepared to move. The air was cool, carrying the distant scent of rain—not yet upon them, but lingering in the far reaches of the wind.
Vaedric and Marevith stood at the gate, watching.
Kaelen raised a hand in farewell, then turned his horse toward the open road.
The twenty warriors behind him followed without hesitation.
And as the gates of Vaeloria closed behind them, the darkness ahead seemed deeper than ever before.
The journey to Aldemir was not a long one, but it was heavy with silence.
Kaelen rode at the front, his thoughts occupied with what awaited them. His cousin, Vaedrin, had sent word that the city had been secured after the attack, but there were still lingering traces of something… unnatural. Reports of whispers in the shadows, of citizens feeling as though unseen eyes watched them even in their own homes.
He had seen this before.
The Shadow Cult did not simply strike and vanish—they left wounds that festered.
Aldemir came into view by midday.
The city was a sprawling fortress, its walls high and well-fortified, built of stone older than the kingdom itself. It was not as grand as the capital, but it was no lesser in strength. Smoke still lingered from where fires had been doused the night before, though the damage did not appear catastrophic.
The gates were already open when they arrived, Vaedrin's soldiers having expected them.
Kaelen rode through first, his gaze sweeping over the streets. The people were out, but they moved with unease. The scent of fear was not fresh, but it lingered.
Vaedrin awaited them in the main square.
The older cousin stood tall, his silver-and-red armor gleaming under the daylight, though his expression was grim. His beast form—a hybrid of wolf and dragon—was not visible now, but Kaelen could sense the power simmering beneath his skin.
"You came faster than I expected," Vaedrin said as Kaelen dismounted.
Kaelen clasped his cousin's arm in greeting. "Tell me everything."
Vaedrin's gaze darkened. "Not here." He turned, motioning for them to follow. "There's something you need to see."
Kaelen exchanged a glance with Marevith before nodding and falling into step beside Vaedrin. The city square faded behind them as they moved deeper into the heart of Aldemir, toward the place where the attack had left its mark.
The air grew colder.
Kaelen's fingers brushed against the pendant at his neck.
Whatever they were about to find, he knew one thing for certain.
The Shadow Cult had not finished with Aldemir yet.