Rain fell like tears upon the stone courtyard.
Kael stood beneath the archway, watching the storm roll across the obsidian towers of Virelle. His cloak was soaked through, but he barely noticed. He had long since stopped feeling the cold—or much of anything at all.
He had been cursed with immortality after failing those he loved most.
And now, fate had brought him here—to a queen who screamed in her sleep and bore a child that should not exist.
"You gave me life," whispered the voice inside her womb.
"Now let me grow."
Kael clenched his jaw.
He had heard it too. In dreams. In waking. Always calling his name.
Kael.
He turned away from the rain, stepping into the dimly lit corridor where Seraphine's guards had stationed themselves. They nodded to him, wary but respectful. Word had spread—this man had no fear, no pain, no end.
Just purpose.
And tonight, he would tell the queen why.
***
Seraphine sat by the fire, wrapped in velvet and exhaustion. Her belly pulsed faintly beneath the fabric, the pressure within her never-ending.
She looked up as Kael entered, his boots silent against the marble floor.
"You asked for me," he said.
She nodded. "I want to know your story."
Kael hesitated. Then, slowly, he lowered himself onto one knee before the hearth, warming his hands over the flames.
"I was once a knight of House Dain," he began. "A noble line sworn to protect the crown. I served under King Aldric before your reign."
Seraphine listened, her fingers absently resting on her stomach.
"My wife was a healer," Kael continued. "My daughter… she was six summers old when the raiders came."
His voice tightened.
"They burned our village to the ground. Took what they could carry. Left the rest to rot."
Seraphine swallowed hard. "What happened to them?"
Kael stared into the fire.
"I failed them."
Silence stretched between them.
Then he lifted his gaze to meet hers.
"I returned too late. My home was ash. My wife's body was found beside the well. My daughter…" He exhaled sharply. "They took her alive."
Seraphine closed her eyes.
"I hunted them for weeks," Kael said. "Cut down every last one. But it didn't bring her back."
He reached for the hilt of his sword, gripping it tightly.
"I begged the gods for justice. For vengeance. Instead, I got something worse."
"What happened?" Seraphine asked softly.
Kael smiled bitterly.
"A witch cursed me. Said I had failed my family because I was too weak to protect them. So she made sure I would never fail again."
He rolled up his sleeve, revealing the pale skin of his forearm.
No scars. No bruises. Nothing human.
"I cannot die," he said. "But I can suffer."
Seraphine shivered.
"That's why you came to me," she murmured. "Because you think this is another chance."
Kael nodded. "Maybe. Or maybe I'm just drawn to lost causes."
He looked at her belly.
"Either way, I won't fail you."
***
Later that night, Kael stood outside Seraphine's chambers, keeping watch as thunder rumbled above.
The wind howled like a mourning beast.
Then came the whisper.
Not from behind him.
From inside .
"Kael…"
He stiffened.
"You'll bleed for her too."
He turned sharply, scanning the corridor.
There was no one there.
Only the flickering torchlight and the steady drip of rainwater from the eaves.
He gripped his sword.
"I've already bled enough," he muttered.
"Not yet," the voice replied gently.
"You haven't bled for me."
Kael swallowed hard.
He had heard these words before—in dreams, in nightmares.
But never so clearly.
Never so close.
***
Inside her chambers, Seraphine stirred in her sleep.
Her breathing was shallow, uneven.
"He belongs to me now," the voice whispered.
"Soon, he will serve us both."
Seraphine shifted, sweat dampening her brow.
"No," she mumbled in her sleep. "He's mine."
"We'll see."
***
By dawn, Kael had decided.
He would train. Strengthen himself. Prepare for what was coming.
He sought out Nyxara, finding her in the palace archives, poring over ancient texts.
"I need to be ready," he told her.
Nyxara studied him carefully. "Ready for what?"
"To fight something that hasn't been born yet."
She sighed, closing the book in her lap.
"There are trials," she said. "Old rites meant to test the soul. To reveal what lies beneath."
Kael met her gaze without hesitation.
"Take me to them."
Nyxara nodded.
"If you survive, you may have a chance."
"And if I don't?"
She gave him a sad smile.
"Then at least you'll keep trying."
***
That night, Kael underwent the first trial.
It was not of strength, nor of skill—but of memory.
In a chamber lined with mirrors, he was forced to relive the day his family died—not once, but a dozen times.
Each time, he tried to save them.
Each time, he failed.
Until finally, in the final vision, he did not run to them.
Instead, he stood still.
Watching.
Accepting.
Letting go.
When he awoke, the mirror before him was cracked.
And for the first time in years…
He felt lighter.