"That woman… her soul has gone on a long journey now. Maybe she'll find peace there. A better life."
Kael's breath caught. His chest tightened.
The old man looked toward the earth one last time.
"This is the end," he said. "And this… this is the beginning."
Kael watched the shallow grave being covered—one scoop of earth at a time—until all that remained was a mound of silence.
The rain didn't stop. It fell without mercy, without pause.
He stood there for a moment longer, then muttered under his breath, just loud enough for himself to hear:
"…This is the end… and this is the beginning."
His own words now. His truth.
The old man gave a knowing nod, and Kael turned to him, his voice low but sincere.
"…Thank you."
Then he walked—briskly, purposefully—through the mud and quiet, toward the two children still sobbing beneath the edge of a makeshift tarp.
They huddled close, shivering. Rain traced clean lines through the dirt on their faces.
They looked up when he knelt in front of them, unsure, afraid.
Kael looked at them—really looked.
Thin. So young. No future waiting here.
And then, softly, he asked,
"…Do you want to come with me?"
His voice was quiet, steady—offering not pity, but choice. A path forward.
The girl blinked up at him first—eyes wide, lips trembling. She clutched her little brother tighter, as if Kael might vanish if she moved.
The boy wiped his nose on his sleeve, then stared at Kael with wet, swollen eyes.
"…With you? Where?"
Kael didn't answer right away. He just held their gaze, eyes steady despite the rain soaking his hair, his clothes.
"Someplace better," he said at last. "Not perfect. But better than this."
Silence stretched.
Then, the girl whispered, barely audible over the rainfall,
"…Will we be safe?"
Kael gave the only promise he could.
"I don't know what safe means in this world. But I'll feed you. I'll protect you. And I won't leave you."
The girl looked at her brother. The boy looked at her. Their fingers tightened.
And then—hesitantly, fearfully—they nodded.
The girl spoke for them both:
"…Okay."
Kael stood, offering his hand.
They took it together.
###
The carriage rocked gently as it moved down the muddy road, the soft clatter of hooves a steady rhythm beneath Kael's thoughts.
He sat quietly, hands folded, watching the two children in front of him—awkward and silent, clinging to each other but stealing glances at him now and then.
He offered a small, tired smile when their eyes met.
They didn't return it yet—but they didn't look away either.
Kael leaned his head back and exhaled slowly.
Yes, he knew it was foolish.
He couldn't save every poor soul sleeping on the wet ground. He wasn't some messiah.
He wasn't even sure he was a good man.
But… this?
This felt right.
Looking at them now, he felt something shift inside him—something settle.
That empty hollowness that gold and status failed to fill… it quieted.
Not gone, but no longer screaming.
His eyes lingered on the boy—sharp, alert even in grief. There was something about him, something Kael couldn't place.
Fate? Coincidence?
He didn't know. But his gut told him this was no ordinary encounter.
Maybe destiny worked in quieter ways than magic flares and divine signs.
Kael thought of the nobles—hoarding coin and power for vanity.
Of magicians—obsessed with relics, indifferent to the people they trampled to get them.
And then he thought of this tiny pair in front of him. Children who didn't need a savior—just someone who gave a damn.
He straightened his coat, eyes narrowing with quiet resolve.
"I won't be like them," he murmured.
Kael sighed and leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees.
"Alright," he said, voice softer now. "Let's pull the philosophy aside for a moment. What are your names?"
The boy straightened a little, like he was preparing for an interrogation.
"I'm Riven," he said, voice guarded but clear. "And this is my sister."
The girl peeked from behind him. Her eyes were red, but her spirit hadn't broken.
Not yet.
"My name's Lira," she said, and then added, almost defiantly,
"I'm not scared of you."
Kael raised an eyebrow, feigning offense.
"Scared of me? Do I look that terrifying?"
Riven glanced at his fine robes, then at the black ring still faintly pulsing on Kael's hand.
"You look like a villain in a story," he muttered.
Kael blinked, then gave a dramatic gasp.
"A villain? That's incredibly rude. I was going more for 'mysterious benefactor.' Clearly I've failed in the fashion department."
Lira giggled despite herself, and Kael caught the tiniest smile tug at Riven's mouth. It felt like a victory.
"I suppose I'll have to grow a mustache to really sell the villain look," Kael added, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Or maybe get a black cat."
"You'd scare the cat," Lira said.
Kael laughed. "That's fair. Cats have high standards."
They fell into a small, rare silence—one not filled with grief or fear, but a strange kind of warmth. Kael looked at them again, truly looked.
Two souls the world had nearly forgotten. But not anymore.
"Well then," he said gently, "Riven, Lira… welcome aboard."
Soon they reached the estate.
Kael stepped down from the carriage first, then helped the two children climb out. They stood quietly, eyes wide as they stared at the towering mansion, its lanterns glowing gently in the dusk.
Kael chuckled and ruffled the boy's messy hair.
"Don't be scared," he said softly.
The boy straightened his back.
"We're not!" the girl chimed in, gripping her brother's hand.
Kael smiled, then waved over a nearby maid. She bowed respectfully.
"These two will be staying here," he said firmly.
"Arrange their rooms, prepare baths, get them new clothes, and…"
He reached into his coat, pulling out a pouch heavy with gold coins.
"Here's 100 gold. Use it to enroll them in a magic academy. Whatever else they need, make it happen."
The maid blinked, visibly surprised—but she caught his tone. No nonsense, no explanation needed. She bowed again.
"As you wish, young master."
The two children looked up at Kael, unsure what to say. He just turned, hands in his coat pockets, and walked inside.
Kael stepped into his room, still dusted with the scent of rain. He barely had time to close the door when Yue's voice cut through the quiet.
"Where have you been?"
He paused, caught off guard. Yue sat by the window, her arms folded, eyes sharp. Her presence was like a blade hidden in silk—calm but piercing.
Kael raised an eyebrow.
She said, "If you want that Divine General," she said, voice low and serious,
"Then tonight is the best chance."