The night air was thick with tension as Keal stood at the cliff's edge, overlooking the glowing city of Valmorin. The wind tugged at his black coat, carrying with it the scent of fire magic and steel. Behind him, the moon cast a silver hue across the ruins of the old fortress—once his family's stronghold, now reduced to crumbling memories.
It had been six years since it fell.
Six years since they betrayed him.
His first love, Elira, had stood there that night, drenched in rain and deceit. "I had no choice," she had said, as her blade pressed against his throat.
And beside her was Rael, Keal's closest friend—no, his brother in all but blood. Laughing. Mocking. His magic flaring in a twisted show of power as the last of Keal's kin were slaughtered behind him.
But the past would no longer chain him. Revenge was no longer a distant dream. It had begun.
---
The safehouse door creaked open behind him. The soft click of boots echoed before she spoke.
"Keal. You're not sleeping again."
He turned, and there she stood—Lyra.
Her presence had grown stronger in his life these past weeks. A mystery, a mercenary, a mage. But she was more than that. She was the only one who dared to look him in the eye, even when shadows coiled around his soul.
"I'm not here to rest," he muttered, brushing past her. "Rael has been spotted in Eldgar."
Lyra followed him inside. "So you'll march straight into enemy territory without a plan? That's not revenge. That's suicide."
His golden eyes locked onto hers. "I don't fear death."
She stepped closer, her voice low and fierce. "Then fear what you'll become. You think revenge will give you peace? I've seen what it does to men like you."
Keal said nothing. He reached for the enchanted map glowing on the table. With a flick of his hand, red trails flared up—spying networks, enemy movements, and a new sigil marked in violet. It pulsed like a heartbeat.
"What's that?" Lyra asked, narrowing her eyes.
"A new player," Keal murmured. "Someone powerful. And they're targeting Rael too."
Lyra frowned. "Ally or enemy?"
"I don't know. But they left a message at the Eldgar outpost."
He handed her a bloodstained parchment. Her eyes widened as she read:
> "To the last son of the Ashvale line—meet me at midnight under the Black Willow. I have what you seek. But be warned… not all ghosts want revenge. Some want resurrection."
---
Midnight — The Black Willow Forest
Keal moved in silence through the whispering forest, every step cautious. The willow tree loomed ahead, ancient and weeping with its dark leaves.
A figure stood beneath it, cloaked and hooded.
"You came," the figure said, voice muffled.
Keal stepped forward. "Who are you?"
The figure slowly removed the hood.
Keal's heart stopped.
"Elira," he breathed.
But something was wrong.
Her eyes glowed violet. Her smile was twisted. And around her neck, she wore Rael's family crest.
"You're dead," he said.
She tilted her head. "Am I?"
And then the world around him cracked—magic exploded from the willow roots, binding him in place. From the shadows, soldiers emerged—Rael's elite guard, bearing the same crest.
"Did you really think you were hunting him, Keal?" Elira whispered, stepping close. "He's been hunting you."
As the vines tightened and darkness crept in, Keal locked eyes with her—betrayal cutting deeper than ever.
But this time, he wasn't alone.
From the trees, a dagger flew—striking the guard.
And Lyra's voice rang clear:
> "You picked the wrong shadow to chase."
---
To be continued...
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