Chapter Six: When Kaelen Stops Burning
Part Two: Wounds the Fire Refused
Location: Legato Stronghold, Ember Ward — The Unlit Wing
The room was gone now.
They'd left it behind—door open, flame buried—but something about the air followed them. Heavy. Dry. The kind of heat that stuck behind your ribs and didn't rise, didn't fall… just sat there. Waiting.
Kaelen didn't join them at breakfast that morning.
Didn't speak through the wall.
Didn't shout in training.
Didn't mutter in passing like he always did when he was restless.
Just silence.
Selka watched his plate sit untouched in the dining chamber. Steam faded from the eggs, the sliced rootfruit softening under time. Zephryn didn't even ask. Yolti just glanced once, sighed, and tossed a cloth over the food like that was easier than asking why it stayed cold.
The truth was this:
Kaelen Voss had never known how to rest.
Not truly.
He didn't sit still—he braced. He didn't sleep—he charged. Every movement was coiled like a strike he never took. Every word came after a pause that felt more like calculation than hesitation.
And now that he was quiet?
That silence was loud.
Selka found him by accident.
She had gone looking for a clean wrap in the east wing's armory store. Just another normal task. Just another morning. She heard nothing at first—no hum, no clash, no cry.
Just breathing.
Not shallow.
Not panicked.
Just… deliberate.
She turned the corner and stopped.
Kaelen stood barefoot in the middle of the sparring chamber.
Shirt off. Veilmark glowing dim on his spine like a single line of ash that refused to burn bright. His halberd was on the floor—across the room.
And his fists?
Bleeding.
He'd been striking the wall. Not out of rage. Not to destroy.
But like he was trying to feel something.
Selka didn't call his name.
Didn't move. Didn't breathe loud. She just stood and watched.
Kaelen threw another punch.
Then another.
Then leaned forward, resting his forehead against the stone, eyes closed.
His voice was low. So low she almost didn't catch it.
"It doesn't hurt. I need it to hurt."
Later, she would ask herself why she didn't say anything.
Why she didn't go to him then.
Why she let him walk past her, wordless, hand half-wrapped, Veilmark dimmer than ever.
But the truth was, she understood.
He wasn't asking for help.
He was asking for permission—to break.
And no one in this stronghold knew how to give him that.
Yolti finally broke the silence that afternoon.
Not with noise.
But with a plan.
"We go south wing tonight," he muttered as he carved a rootfruit at the prep table, not looking up. "We drag him with us. No training. No resonance drills. We just go."
Zephryn looked over. "Go where?"
"The river bend. The old one. Where he used to take solo drills before the Lyceum. That place is his. If we make him walk into it now, maybe it brings him back."
Selka raised an eyebrow. "And if it doesn't?"
Yolti stared at the knife in his hand for a long moment, then shrugged.
"Then at least he knows someone still remembers the route."
They left at dusk.
Didn't ask Kaelen. Didn't wait for permission.
Just walked the path south out of the stronghold, boots crunching over gravel that hadn't seen a footprint in months.
Kaelen followed.
He didn't say a word.
Didn't ask where they were going.
Didn't even wear his halberd across his back—just walked in silence, a faint line of dried blood still marking his knuckles.
Zephryn didn't speak.
Selka held the lead.
Yolti kept pace with Kaelen like a bodyguard who didn't know if he was protecting Kaelen… or the world from Kaelen.
The river bend was quiet when they reached it.
It always was.
The trees here bowed inward, forming an arch of lightless green. The water curved like a pulse line, soft and slow. Zephryn remembered training here once—alone. He remembered the way Kaelen's footwork used to slice through the underbrush. The way his fire Veilmark lit the river with orange reflections when he let it breathe.
Now?
There was no flame.
Kaelen stood at the edge, staring into the water like it might speak.
Selka knelt and pulled her boots off. Waded in slowly, letting the cold numb her calves. She didn't look at anyone.
"You can burn later," she said softly. "Just breathe now."
Yolti sat on a rock and let his head fall back. "Remember when he used to scream out here? Just… shout into the trees. For no reason."
"I do," Zephryn murmured.
Kaelen stepped forward.
The river shimmered slightly—just a glint of dying light.
He didn't enter it.
Didn't speak.
He just sat at its edge and slowly, deliberately, placed his hand in the water.
And for the first time in days—his Veilmark flickered.
Not strong. Not bright.
Just a flicker.
It was enough.
They stayed there until night fell completely.
Didn't talk much.
Didn't need to.
And when they rose to walk back?
Kaelen stood on his own.
No limp. No drag. No fire.
Just… a boy who had stopped burning.
But hadn't gone out.