Kael tumbled through darkness.
It wasn't the simple absence of light he'd known in the mines — this was a suffocating void, thick and formless, that seemed to press in from all directions. His lungs burned; his stomach churned. Every muscle in his body screamed as if being stretched and twisted by unseen hands.
Just when he thought his mind might tear apart under the pressure, the darkness spat him out.
He landed hard on cold earth, the breath knocked from his lungs. For a moment, he could do nothing but lie there, tasting dirt and copper on his tongue. His head spun so violently that nausea surged up his throat, and he rolled to one side until the sickness passed.
When the dizziness ebbed, he pushed himself upright.
A wide, grassy plain stretched before him, the blades rippling like an emerald sea under a copper-hued sunset. In the distance, rising proud and golden, stood a city unlike any he'd ever imagined — its walls were smooth and towering, its gates flanked by statues of beasts mid-roar. Lanterns were already being lit along the broad avenues inside, their glow threading through the streets like rivers of fire.
Kael blinked at the sight, dazed.
Compared to the squat, soot-stained hovels of Shalepeak Hold, this city was another world entirely.
He raised a hand to his chest, fingers brushing the pendant. The crimson metal bird lay cool and inert against his skin now, no trace of the searing heat that had saved his life.
So it was a treasure — some sort of teleportation talisman. Something far beyond the reach of anyone in Shalepeak. Which meant it hadn't come from Matron Sera or anyone in the Hold.
It had to be from his parents.
That thought stirred something deep in him — part hope, part fear.
The last light was bleeding from the sky, and the air was turning crisp with evening cold. Kael squinted at the city; it looked far, too far for a man with two broken legs to reach before night fell. Behind him, a forest loomed, its shadows pooling thick between the trees.
Neither choice promised safety. But with the cold already needling through his threadbare clothes, shelter was his first concern.
Teeth gritted, he began to crawl toward the treeline.
It was slow, punishing work.
The grass snagged on his knees; every drag forward sent jolts of pain through his splinted legs. His broken fingers throbbed each time they took weight. The effort left his breath ragged and his limbs trembling.
By the time he reached the edge of the forest, darkness had taken the plain entirely. The trees loomed above him, skeletal in the moonlight, their branches clawing at the sky.
He collapsed against the base of a trunk, chest heaving. The air here was colder still, the damp scent of soil and leaf mold thick around him.
Without fire, he wouldn't last until dawn.
He scraped together a pitiful pile of dry leaves and twigs, fumbling with stones to try to spark a flame. His hands shook too badly; his fingers refused to close properly. Sparks came, but they died instantly on damp wood.
That was when he heard the howl.
Low, long, and close.
Then another answered it, farther off but moving nearer.
Wolves.
Kael's heart slammed against his ribs. In the mines, stories about the black-furred hunters that prowled these forests were told to frighten children into staying inside. But the reality was far worse: they were pack killers, cunning enough to circle their prey before striking all at once.
He grabbed a branch and tried to lift it like a club, though his arms barely had strength for the weight. If they came now, his only hope would be to wound one and make the others hesitate long enough for him to crawl away — not much of a plan.
"Would you like some help with that?"
The voice was smooth, unhurried, and unmistakably… amused.
Kael froze. "Who's there?"
"Down here."
From the shadow between two trees padded a creature that made his breath catch.
It was a cat — if such a word could apply to something so strange. Its fur was the deep burnished gold of autumn leaves in sunlight, streaked with rich brown along its flanks. Its tail was long and plume-like, swaying lazily as it approached. Eyes the color of molten amber glowed in the moonlight, sharp and appraising.
"You… can talk," Kael managed.
The creature's whiskers twitched. "Astute. You're not entirely hopeless."
It stepped closer, circling him once before stopping at the failed fire pit. "You'll freeze before morning. Let's fix that."
With delicate precision, it scraped the damp wood aside, selecting only the driest twigs and leaves. Its claws struck against a flat stone, producing a clean spark that caught at once. In moments, a small but steady flame licked at the kindling, spreading warmth into the cold night air.
Kael sagged forward, letting the heat seep into his bones. "Thank you."
The cat ignored the words, settling itself primly by the fire. "Second level, Body Tempering Realm. Seventeen years old. How have you wasted so much time?"
Kael blinked at the bluntness. "It's not like I've had—"
The undergrowth rustled. Four wolves slipped into the clearing, their eyes glinting, teeth bared.
Kael snatched up a burning branch, his heart pounding.
"Relax," the cat said.
It turned toward the wolves and let out a single, low hiss.
The sound wasn't loud, but it carried weight — a vibration that seemed to hum in the very air. The wolves froze mid-step, ears flattening, and then without a sound, they melted back into the forest.
Kael gaped. "How—"
"Sleep," the cat interrupted. "We'll talk in the morning."
He woke to sunlight filtering through the branches. The fire had burned down to embers. The golden cat sat exactly where it had the night before, tail curled neatly around its paws.
"I examined you while you slept," it said without preamble. "Your legs are broken. Nose crooked. Two cracked ribs. Fingers smashed. Internal bleeding. You'll be dead in days without treatment."
It nudged a small, smooth sphere toward him — a pill the size of his thumbnail, its surface a pale jade flecked with gold.
Kael's eyes widened. "An alchemical pill?"
"Of a grade far beyond anything you've seen," the cat said. "Swallow it. Now."
Kael hesitated only briefly before obeying.
The pill dissolved the moment it touched his tongue, flooding his body with warmth. The sensation raced through his meridians like molten sunlight, knitting bone, sealing ruptures, erasing pain as it went. He gasped as feeling returned to his legs, as breath came without knives in his ribs.
When he stood — stood — his voice trembled. "Pills are… miracles."
The cat's amber eyes held a glimmer of amusement. "Perhaps you're worth the trouble after all."
Kael crouched beside it. "Who are you?"
"You may call me Lord Emberclaw," it said, rising to its feet. "Now, gather your strength. The city you saw last night — we have someone to meet."