The bells of Morgrave tolled at dawn, their iron voices echoing through the mist-laden streets. Kael Rennar stood atop the palace's eastern wall, watching the city awaken beneath a sky still bruised from the night's storms. The air was sharp with the scent of rain and distant smoke—a reminder that peace, like the morning, was always fragile.
He pressed his palm to the cold stone, feeling the thrum of ancient wards beneath his skin. Most could not sense the magic woven into Morgrave's bones, but Kael was not like most. The demon blood in his veins hummed in answer, a secret song he had learned to hide.
Below, the city bustled to life. Merchants opened their stalls, children chased stray dogs through puddles, and soldiers in blue-and-gold livery marched along the main avenue. Kael envied their certainty, their belonging. He pulled his hood lower, hiding the gold flecks in his eyes.
"Up early again, Kael?" The voice was warm, familiar—a comfort and a burden.
Kael turned to see King Edric approaching, his cloak billowing in the wind. The king's beard was streaked with gray, his eyes sharp and kind. He walked with the easy confidence of a man who had survived too many wars.
"I couldn't sleep," Kael admitted. "The wards... they feel different."
Edric's gaze grew distant. "You always were sensitive to such things. The priests say the storms are just weather, but I trust your instincts more than their prayers."
Kael hesitated. "Do you think the stories are true? About Yth'razel?"
The king placed a hand on Kael's shoulder. "I fought in the last war, boy. I saw what came through those gates. But we sealed them. We paid the price. The world is safe—because we made it so."
Kael wanted to believe him. He wanted to believe that the nightmares were only dreams, that the hunger in his blood was just a shadow of the past.
But the wards pulsed beneath his feet, and the sky above Morgrave was never truly blue.
They walked the ramparts in silence, the city stretching out before them. Edric stopped at the highest tower, where the royal banner snapped in the wind.
"Kael," he said quietly, "you know you are my son, in all but blood. The court may whisper, the priests may glare, but I chose you. Not because of what you are, but because of who you've become."
Kael's throat tightened. "I will never betray you. I swear it."
The king smiled, pride and sorrow mingling in his eyes. "Then let that be your oath. Not to me, but to this kingdom. To the people who need you—demon blood and all."
Kael knelt, pressing his fist to his heart. "By my blood and by my will, I swear to defend Morgrave until my last breath."
Thunder rumbled in the distance, and for a moment, the sky above the city flickered with crimson light.
Neither spoke of it. Oaths were meant to be kept, even as the world began to break.