The night after the encounter with the Lady of Chains was heavy—silent not in peace, but in tension. The kind that coiled in the back of the throat, waiting to strike like a viper. The ruins of Zarad-Kesh slept once more, but the ancient energies awakened there had not faded. They had burrowed into Ael's bones like embers, waiting for the right breath to ignite.
He sat alone by the fire, arms crossed over his knees, the stars stretching above like indifferent gods. He hadn't spoken a word since they made camp.
Elen watched him from the edge of the firelight, chewing the inside of her cheek. For the first time since she'd met him, Ael looked… small. Not powerless—but conflicted.
"Are you going to sit there and brood forever?" she finally said.
Ael's eyes flicked toward her. In the dancing orange light, they looked almost silver. "Brooding implies emotion. I'm trying to understand the difference between what's waking up… and what I want to be."
Elen stepped closer and lowered herself beside him. "You don't need to figure it all out tonight. Or tomorrow."
"I do." His voice was quiet, but steel-laced. "The Lady of Chains didn't come to kill me. She came to test me. That means the Empress thinks I'm close to... unlocking something."
He clenched his fists. The fire reacted to the motion, flaring before settling again.
Elen looked at his hands—then his face. "You're not him, Ael. I don't care what you used to be. You made your choice when you shielded me. When you fought to protect strangers. That's what matters."
Ael turned his gaze back to the flames. "I don't fear becoming Kael'tharin."
She blinked. "Then what—?"
"I fear not knowing what I was. What I did. If I hurt people who didn't deserve it. If I destroyed for pride. Or vengeance. Or... nothing at all."
Elen looked down. "You think remembering will turn you into that man again?"
"No," Ael whispered. "I think remembering will make me understand why he chose to feel nothing."
A quiet beat passed between them, filled with the hiss of firewood and the rustling of the wind.
Then, the sound of footsteps.
Althar approached, his expression grim. "Trouble. Scouts report movement two miles west. Riders. Fast. Cloaked."
Ael stood immediately, his eyes narrowing. "Bounty hunters?"
"No. Too coordinated. Too quiet. Either trained mercs or..." Althar hesitated. "Someone worse."
They doused the fire and moved quickly into the shadow of a crumbled stone arch. Ael took point, kneeling in the sand, eyes scanning the horizon. Then he saw them—five riders, robed in crimson and black. Their mounts weren't horses.
They were nightmares.
Twisted creatures of flesh and bone, with glowing red eyes and hooves that left no prints in the sand.
"Bloodseekers," Althar murmured. "Elite assassins. Empire-trained. They don't take prisoners."
One of the riders raised a hand.
The others split formation.
"They know we're here," Ael said. "I can buy time—"
"No." Elen drew her sword. "We fight."
"We can't outrun them," Althar added. "If we scatter, they'll pick us off one by one."
Ael's jaw tightened. His fingers curled, and he called the magic—not just from within, but from the earth itself.
The ruins responded.
Old wards reactivated. Glowing symbols shimmered beneath the sand. For the briefest second, it felt like the land remembered him.
The riders charged.
Ael stepped forward, arms outstretched. "Break."
The sand rippled like water—then exploded upward, a wall of shimmering stone erupting in front of the party. The first Bloodseeker slammed into it and was crushed on impact.
The other four adapted, splitting around the wall.
Elen engaged the second, their blades clashing in a burst of sparks.
Althar fired a barrage of arcane bolts, one of which clipped a rider's arm, knocking him off his mount.
The last two charged straight for Ael.
He didn't move.
He didn't summon flame.
He simply remembered.
The words.
The runes.
The feeling of unraveling space.
His hand snapped up—and a glyph exploded into the air.
"In'theran!"
A beam of black light erupted from his palm, slicing through one rider and turning the other's mount into a heap of twisted flesh.
Ael lowered his hand slowly. He exhaled—and realized his limbs were trembling.
Not from strain.
From fear.
Not of them.
Of himself.
The battle ended in less than a minute.
Elen wiped blood from her cheek. "You okay?"
Ael looked at his hands again. "I used a Void incantation. One that shouldn't exist anymore. I didn't learn it."
"It came back," Althar said grimly.
"No," Ael corrected. "It never left. It was sealed with me."
He looked at the horizon—toward the Empire, toward the Empress.
"She's sending stronger ones now."
Elen nodded. "And we're still not strong enough to face her."
Ael turned toward the center of the ruins.
"Then it's time I start unlocking the rest."