The road wound through a forest thick with silver-leafed trees, their branches tangled like the thoughts in Kael's head. Fog clung to the path, curling around his legs like phantom fingers. It had been two days since he left the trading post—and Ellyn. Two days of walking, thinking, listening.
And being followed.
At first, it was a rustle. Then the occasional broken twig. He'd doubled back once, fast and silent, only to catch a glimpse of something slipping into the mist.
He hadn't been alone.
He never was, not anymore.
---
The old road ended abruptly at the edge of a ruined outpost. Half-swallowed by vines and moss, it looked like it hadn't seen life in a century. Stone towers stood like broken teeth in the forest, leaning and cracked, but Kael saw symbols etched into their bases.
Ancient runes.
He crouched by one, brushing moss away. The pattern stirred something in him. Recognition? Or maybe warning.
Then, behind him—a voice.
"You've got a decent stance. But you hold your weight too high."
Kael spun, blade half-drawn.
A figure stepped out of the fog. A girl—maybe seventeen. Tall, lean, with long chestnut hair pulled into a messy braid and a long spear slung across her back. Her cloak was patched but well-kept, and her eyes were bright, intelligent, and very much amused.
"Relax," she said. "If I wanted to gut you, I wouldn't have opened with fashion tips."
Kael narrowed his gaze. "You've been following me."
"For a while," she admitted, crossing her arms. "Wasn't sure if you were bandit or bait. But the way you cut down those spirit-wolves? That caught my attention."
Kael's hand stayed on his sword.
"Name's Liora," she said. "Ex-apprentice of the Duskwatch."
"You left the Duskwatch? Why?"
"Let's just say I got tired of killing on command."
Kael nodded slowly, then sheathed his sword. "Kael."
She grinned. "Yeah, I figured. Word's already spread downriver. A scarred swordsman with weird eyes and a hero complex."
He blushed. "I don't have a hero complex."
"Sure you don't. That's why you saved the old man and his niece from spirit-bound wolves."
Kael rolled his eyes. "Why were you following me?"
Liora's smile faded. "Because I think we're heading toward the same storm."
---
They camped in the ruins, sharing dry rations and stories. Liora had been wandering for months, following a trail of corrupted beasts, strange disappearances, and whispers about the return of something called the Veiled Flame.
"It's a cult," she said, poking the fire with her spearhead. "Or was. Old world stuff. Long before the Kingdoms united. They worshipped a god that never spoke—only burned."
Kael froze.
"A silent god?"
"Yeah. You know the type?"
Kael looked into the flames. They crackled softly, their glow dancing across the carved stones around them.
"Maybe," he said. "I think... I met Him."
Liora didn't laugh.
"You're serious."
He nodded. "Six years ago. The night my family was killed. He spoke to me in a dream. Said he was sorry. That He'd help me."
She studied him in silence.
"Then we're definitely walking the same path," she said at last. "And it's going to get ugly."
---
The next day, they pushed deeper into the forest. The air grew heavier, the trees darker. Liora moved with practiced ease, scouting ahead and marking their trail. Kael appreciated her calm presence, her sharp eyes.
He also noticed she never slept deeply.
That night, while she dozed, Kael sat against a stone wall, polishing his blade. A voice stirred in his mind.
You are not ready.
Kael's heart jumped. He looked around, but the camp was still.
The voice again, deeper than thought.
She is a guide. But the path is not hers. Only yours.
"Who are you?" Kael whispered.
You know.
The fire flared. Then died to embers.
Kael shivered.
---
They reached the southern hills by noon. Green slopes rolled into the distance, and Kael saw it at last:
The Scholar's City.
White towers, gold-topped domes, and walls carved with arcane scripts. Bridges linked floating islands around the main citadel, each glowing faintly with protective enchantments.
Kael and Liora stared in awe.
"Looks like a painting," she said. "And I hate paintings."
Kael laughed. It felt good.
They followed the road down toward the gates. Caravans bustled, merchants barked, and spell-riders hovered above the traffic, maintaining order. Kael felt his heart beat faster.
She was here. His sister. Somewhere beyond those walls.
As they entered, a bell rang.
Liora looked up. "That's the tower's warding bell. Something just breached the outer veil."
Kael's hand went to his sword.
A boy ran past them, shouting. "MONSTERS! From the sky!"
Kael turned to Liora.
"Looks like your hero complex's about to flare up again."
He smiled. "Let's go."
They sprinted toward the bell tower plaza, dodging panicked civilians. Overhead, the sky cracked—not thunder, but a tear. A rift.
Something was coming through.
Dark shapes fell through the air. At first, they looked like birds. Then Kael saw the wings were skeletal. No eyes. No feathers.
"Harpies?" Liora said.
"No," Kael said grimly. "Worse."
The creatures landed hard, skittering on all fours. Clawed and twitching, their jaws distended unnaturally.
One looked at Kael—and stopped.
Then it knelt.
Everyone froze.
Liora whispered, "Kael... what the hell is going on?"
The creature hissed something in an ancient tongue. Kael understood every word.
"You carry His flame. We serve."
Kael felt the burn in his chest, like a hidden brand reigniting.
Another voice, in his head.
The servants awaken. Choose, Kael. Will you wield them? Or destroy them?
Liora stepped back. "Kael? Your eyes... they're glowing."
Kael raised his sword.
And the creature bowed deeper.
The creature dropped to one knee before him, its clawed hand thudding against the ground with a weight that cracked the mossy stone beneath. Its reptilian head dipped low, horned and scarred, and when it spoke, its voice was a deep growl laced with ancient echoes:
"Bearer of the Silent Flame... command me."
Kael's breath caught in his throat.
He hadn't done anything—hadn't drawn a blade, hadn't shouted, hadn't even reached for the power he felt pulsing faintly inside him since the night the Silent God touched his soul.
But the creature... knew.
Behind him, Elira's voice trembled with equal parts confusion and awe. "Kael... why is that thing kneeling to you?"
"I don't know," he whispered, eyes locked on the monster's bowed head. "I didn't tell it to."
The creature looked up, its eyes glowing faintly like coals in the dark. "My kind were bound by the old flame... the one that sleeps in your blood. Long has it been since I felt its pulse. But now, it burns again."
Kael blinked. "You mean... the Silent God?"
The beast gave a slow, reverent nod. "The one who speaks only in scars and silence. The Unnamed Flame. He marked you. And through him, you awaken us."
Us?
Kael stepped back. "Wait. There are more of you?"
"Yes," the creature said. "Scattered, sealed, sleeping beneath mountain roots and ocean floors. Chained in temples long since swallowed by time. And when the mark burns... we stir."
Elira stepped beside Kael, blade still drawn. She didn't lower it.
"This isn't right," she muttered. "Nothing about this is right. I followed you because I thought you were interesting—not some ancient cult's messiah."
Kael turned to her, trying to keep his voice calm. "I didn't ask for this."
"I know," she said quickly, searching his eyes. "I know you're not the villain here. But Kael... people kill for less than this. If someone saw what I just saw—"
"They'd hunt me," he finished for her. "Or worse."
She nodded.
A cold wind stirred the ashes of the burned trees around them. The forest was quiet now. Too quiet.
Then the creature—Graal'Torak—spoke again. "Your sister. She yet lives."
Kael's head snapped toward it. "What did you say?"
"The girl. Taken six years ago. I saw her in dreams while I slumbered, chained in runes beneath this soil. She was brought to the Obsidian Choir."
Elira's eyes narrowed. "What the hell is that?"
"The Choir," Graal'Torak rumbled, "is a cult born from the broken echoes of gods. They steal children touched by divinity. Mold them. Weaponize them. The girl… your blood… she is strong."
Kael felt the ground shift under him. "You're telling me… she's alive?"
The creature nodded once.
Kael's fists clenched. "Where?"
"I do not know," it said. "But she still sings."
"Sings?"
"The Choir teaches them to sing without sound. To call through the void. She reaches for you, Kael. Even now."
Elira looked stunned. "Then… maybe that's why you're waking things up. Maybe it's not just power. Maybe it's her."
Kael didn't answer. The fire within him, the one that had slept and murmured for years, now roared.
He turned to Graal'Torak. "If I command you… will you follow?"
The creature bowed deeper. "Until the flame dies or the world ends, I serve."
Elira sighed heavily beside him. "Well... guess I picked the right idiot to follow."
Kael gave her a sideways look. "Still regretting it?"
"Oh, completely," she smirked, sheathing her sword. "But now I have to know how this story ends."
Kael nodded, stepping forward.
"For now, we head north," he said. "We find the next piece of this… and we find my sister."
The creature rumbled in approval.
But far above them, perched among the shattered spires of a forgotten tower, something watched. A pale figure cloaked in violet robes, its face hidden beneath a porcelain mask shaped like a fox. It held a scroll etched in gold and a single black feather between its fingers.
"The Scion awakens," it whispered.
Then it vanished into smoke, carried by the wind toward a darker fate.