The villagers of Millbrook looked like ghosts in the moonlight. Forty-three people, carrying everything they owned in bundles and bags. Children clung to their mothers' skirts. Old men leaned on walking sticks. Everyone kept glancing back at the homes they were leaving behind.
Ren walked at the front of the group, Dawnbreaker across his back. The sword's gentle glow helped light their way, but it also made him feel exposed. Like a beacon calling to every dark thing in the forest.
"How far to the main road?" asked Mira. She walked beside him, carrying a bag of healing supplies and helping an elderly woman named Gran Hilda keep up with the group.
"Three hours if we move fast," Ren replied. "But we can't move fast. Not with children and elders."
Behind them, someone was crying softly. Little Sara, who was only six years old. Her parents had been killed in the attack on the village. Now she was an orphan, just like Ren had been.
"We could rest when we reach the road," Mira suggested.
"No." Ren shook his head. "The road won't be safe either. Nothing is safe anymore."
As if to prove his point, a howl echoed through the forest. Not the broken cry of the undead, but something else. Something alive and hunting.
The group stopped walking. Parents pulled their children closer. The men gripped their weapons tighter.
"Wolves?" whispered Master Thorne.
Ren listened to the sound. It came again, closer this time. But it wasn't a wolf. Wolves didn't make sounds like that. This was something bigger. Something that had tasted human blood and wanted more.
"Keep moving," Ren said quietly. "Don't run unless I tell you to."
They walked faster now, but it wasn't fast enough. The howls were coming from multiple directions. Whatever was hunting them, there was more than one.
"Ren," Mira said urgently. "Look."
She was pointing ahead, where the path curved around a large oak tree. In the shadows beneath the tree, yellow eyes gleamed. Then more eyes appeared. And more.
The creatures stepped into the moonlight, and several villagers gasped in horror.
They had once been wolves, but something had changed them. They were twice the size they should be, with matted black fur and foam dripping from their jaws. Their eyes burned with the same green fire as the undead. But unlike the shambling corpses, these things moved with predatory grace.
Shadow wolves. Ren remembered them now. Beasts corrupted by dark magic, turned into instruments of terror and death.
"Everyone get behind me," Ren ordered. He drew Dawnbreaker, and the blade sang as it cleared its sheath. The light from the sword made the shadow wolves snarl and bare their teeth.
"There are too many," Master Thorne said. His voice shook with fear. "At least a dozen of them."
Ren counted quickly. Thorne was right. Twelve shadow wolves, all watching him with intelligent, malevolent eyes. They knew he was dangerous. They could sense the power of his sword. But they were hungry, and the smell of fear from the villagers was driving them wild.
The largest wolf, a massive beast with scars across its muzzle, stepped forward. It was the pack leader. When it spoke, its voice was like grinding stone.
"Give us the children," it said. "They will scream the sweetest."
Several villagers cried out in shock. Wolves couldn't talk. But these weren't really wolves anymore.
"You get nothing," Ren replied. He raised Dawnbreaker, and light blazed from the blade. "Leave now, and I might let you live."
The pack leader laughed. It was a horrible sound, like bones breaking. "You are not the hero you once were, little blacksmith. You remember some things, but not everything. You are weak. Incomplete."
The words hit Ren like a slap. The wolf was right. He could feel gaps in his memory, skills he had once possessed but couldn't quite grasp. The sword helped, but it wasn't enough to make him whole.
"Maybe," Ren said. "But I'm still enough to deal with you."
The pack leader's eyes narrowed. "We shall see."
The attack came from all sides at once. The shadow wolves moved like liquid darkness, faster than normal wolves, faster than Ren's eyes could follow. But his body remembered what his mind had forgotten.
He spun to the left, Dawnbreaker cutting through the air in a perfect arc. The blade caught the first wolf across the chest, and the creature burst into silver flames. It had time for one agonized howl before it crumbled to ash.
Two more wolves leaped at him from behind. Ren dropped to one knee and swept the sword in a wide circle. Both beasts were cut in half, their corrupted bodies dissolving in the blade's holy light.
But there were still nine wolves left, and now they knew he was dangerous. They spread out, circling him like sharks. Their movements were more cautious now, more coordinated.
The pack leader hung back, watching. "Protect the whelps if you can, hero. But you cannot be everywhere at once."
Three wolves broke away from the circle and rushed toward the group of villagers. Ren started after them, but two more wolves blocked his path. He was forced to fight while helpless people screamed behind him.
One of the charging wolves reached Gran Hilda, the elderly woman who could barely walk. Its jaws opened wide, showing teeth like black daggers.
Mira stepped between them.
She had no weapon except her healer's bag. No armor except her simple dress. But she stood her ground as the shadow wolf bore down on her.
"Mira, no!" Ren shouted.
The wolf's claws raked across Mira's shoulder, spinning her around. Blood sprayed across the ground. But as she fell, she pulled something from her bag. A small glass vial filled with clear liquid.
She threw it at the wolf's face.
The vial shattered, and holy water splashed across the creature's eyes. The wolf screamed and stumbled backward, pawing at its burning face. The holy water ate through its corrupted flesh like acid.
Ren used the distraction to break free from the wolves surrounding him. He reached Mira just as another shadow wolf lunged at her. Dawnbreaker took the creature's head off in one clean stroke.
"Are you all right?" he asked, helping her to her feet.
Mira's shoulder was bleeding, but she nodded grimly. "I'll live. But we need to end this fast. I don't have much holy water left."
The remaining wolves had regrouped around their leader. They were warier now, having seen five of their pack destroyed in minutes. But they weren't retreating. If anything, they looked angrier.
"You fight well, little hero," the pack leader snarled. "But you still remember nothing of your true power. In the old days, you would have killed us all with a word. Now you struggle against mere beasts."
"I'm learning," Ren replied.
"Too slowly."
The pack leader threw back its head and howled. The sound was deafening, like a thunderclap in the middle of a storm. The other wolves joined in, their voices combining into something that made the earth shake.
From the forest around them came answering calls. More howls. Dozens of them. The pack leader hadn't brought just twelve wolves. It had brought an army.
"Run," Ren said quietly to Mira.
"What?"
"Get everyone moving. Run for the road. Don't stop, no matter what you hear behind you."
"I'm not leaving you."
"You're not leaving me. You're saving them." Ren nodded toward the villagers, who were huddled together in terror. "That's what matters."
Mira looked like she wanted to argue, but she knew he was right. "What will you do?"
"Buy you time."
More wolves were emerging from the trees now. Twenty. Thirty. Forty. Their eyes glowed like green stars in the darkness. Soon there would be too many to count.
Ren raised Dawnbreaker above his head. The sword blazed brighter than ever before, casting away every shadow for a hundred yards in all directions. The wolves snarled and shielded their eyes, but they didn't retreat.
"Get them out of here," Ren said to Mira.
She hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Don't die," she said simply.
"I'll try not to."
Mira gathered the villagers and led them away at a stumbling run. They crashed through the underbrush, making noise that could probably be heard for miles. But that didn't matter now. All that mattered was getting them to safety.
Ren stood alone in the circle of light, surrounded by an army of shadow wolves. The pack leader padded closer, its scarred muzzle pulled back in what might have been a grin.
"Now you die as you should have died a thousand years ago," it said.
"Maybe," Ren admitted. "But I'm taking as many of you with me as I can."
The pack leader's grin widened. "Attack."
The wolves came from every direction at once. Ren spun in a circle, Dawnbreaker weaving patterns of light around him. Every stroke found its mark. Every cut destroyed another corrupted beast. But there were so many of them.
Claws raked across his back. Teeth tore at his arms. A wolf the size of a horse knocked him to the ground, its jaws snapping at his throat. He managed to drive his sword through its chest, but two more took its place.
He was going to die. He could feel his strength fading, his movements becoming slower. The memories and skills of Kael the Brightblade weren't enough. Not when he could only access fragments of what he had once been.
Then, just as despair began to take hold, something inside him shifted.
It started as a whisper in the back of his mind. A voice that sounded like his own, but older and filled with authority.
Stop fighting like a blacksmith, the voice said. Fight like a king.
Understanding flowed through Ren like cold water. He wasn't just a hero. He had been royalty. Not born to it, but raised to it by his deeds. He had commanded armies and ruled kingdoms. He had been more than just a warrior with a magic sword.
He had been a leader of men and a wielder of power beyond imagining.
Ren stopped trying to fight every wolf individually. Instead, he planted his feet and raised Dawnbreaker like a banner. Power flowed from the sword, but not just the sword's power. His own power, remembered at last.
"By my authority as the once and future king," he said, and his voice carried like thunder, "I command you to kneel."
The words hit the shadow wolves like a physical force. They stumbled and fell, their corrupted minds unable to resist the authority in his voice. Even the pack leader dropped to its belly, whimpering.
"You remember," it gasped. "The royal power. The voice that compels obedience."
"I remember enough," Ren replied. He walked to the pack leader and placed the point of his sword against its throat. "Now tell me who sent you."
"The... the Shadow King. He knows you have returned. He wants you dead before you can gather your strength."
"Where is he?"
"The Dark Tower. In the Blighted Lands, where the sun never shines. But you will never reach him. He has armies now. Legions of the dead and the corrupted. He will destroy you as he should have done before."
Ren pressed the sword point deeper. "Tell your master something for me. Tell him Kael Brightblade has returned. Tell him I'm coming for him. And tell him that this time, I won't make the mistake of showing mercy."
The pack leader's eyes went wide with terror. "You would murder us in cold blood?"
"You're already dead," Ren pointed out. "I'm just sending you back where you belong."
He raised Dawnbreaker and brought it down. Light exploded outward, destroying every shadow wolf in the clearing. The pack leader had time for one last howl of rage and fear before it too crumbled to ash.
Silence returned to the forest.
Ren stood among the remains of his enemies, breathing hard. The royal authority was fading now, leaving him feeling drained and empty. But he had learned something important. His power wasn't gone, just buried. With time and practice, he could become the hero he had once been.
If he lived that long.
He sheathed Dawnbreaker and hurried after the villagers. It didn't take long to catch up with them. They were moving slowly, hindered by the elderly and the children. When they saw him approaching, several people cried out in relief.
"Are you hurt?" Mira asked, examining the claw marks on his arms.
"Nothing serious," Ren lied. The wounds burned like fire, but he didn't want to worry her.
"What happened to the wolves?"
"Gone."
She looked like she wanted to ask more questions, but Master Thorne interrupted. "The road is just ahead," he said, pointing through the trees.
They emerged from the forest onto the King's Highway, the great stone road that connected all the major cities of the realm. It was wide enough for four wagons to travel side by side, and it had been built to last forever. Even after a thousand years, the stones were barely cracked.
"Which way to the capital?" asked one of the villagers.
Ren pulled out the map Jorik had left him and studied it by the light of his sword. The capital was marked clearly, along with the major roads. But something was wrong.
"The capital has fallen," he said quietly.
"What?" Mira looked over his shoulder at the map. "How can you tell?"
Ren pointed to a section of the map where red ink had been spilled like blood. Around the capital city, someone had drawn symbols that made his stomach turn. They were marks of corruption, signs that the Shadow King's influence had already reached the heart of the kingdom.
"Jorik knew," Ren said. "He knew the capital wouldn't be safe. That's why he marked the other locations on this map."
He showed them the three red dots that indicated where his old allies were hiding. The closest was still a week's journey to the north, in the Thornwood Mountains.
"So where do we go?" Master Thorne asked.
Ren studied the map more carefully. There was a town marked about two days' walk from their current position. Millhaven, a trading post at the crossroads of three highways. It was small, but it had walls and guards. The villagers might be safe there, at least for a while.
"Millhaven," he decided. "You can rest there and decide what to do next."
"What about you?" Mira asked.
Ren folded the map and put it away. "I have to find my allies. The people marked on this map are the only ones who might know how to stop what's coming."
"You're leaving us?"
The hurt in her voice cut him deeper than any wolf's claw. These people had been his neighbors, his friends. They were looking to him for protection, and he was abandoning them.
But what choice did he have? If he stayed with them, he would just be putting them in more danger. The Shadow King knew he had returned. More attacks would come, each one worse than the last. The only way to keep the villagers safe was to draw the danger away from them.
"It's not what I want to do," Ren said. "But it's what I have to do."
"Then I'm coming with you."
"Mira, no."
"These people need a healer, yes. But you need one too. And someone needs to keep you from doing something stupid and heroic."
Master Thorne stepped forward. "She's right, lad. You shouldn't face this alone."
"I've faced it alone before."
"And look how that turned out," Mira said pointedly. "You died. Maybe this time, try accepting help."
Ren wanted to argue, but he could see the determination in her eyes. She had made up her mind, and nothing he said would change it.
"Fine," he said. "But when we reach Millhaven, the others stay there. I won't drag children and elderly people into a war."
"Agreed," Master Thorne said. "We can take care of ourselves once we're behind walls."
They started walking along the highway. The stone road was easier on their feet than the forest paths, and they made better time. As the hours passed, Ren found himself thinking about what lay ahead.
Three allies, scattered across the kingdom. How many of them were still alive? How many would remember him? And even if he found them all, would it be enough to face the Shadow King's armies?
A thousand years ago, it had taken everything he had just to defeat the Shadow King once. Now his enemy was stronger, and Ren was... incomplete. A shadow of his former self.
But he wasn't the same person he had been before. That much was true. The old Kael had been alone, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. This time, he had Mira. He had the memory of the villagers he was protecting. He had connections to the world that the old Kael had never possessed.
Maybe that would be enough. Maybe being more human would make him a better hero.
Or maybe it would just get him killed faster.
As dawn approached, they saw smoke rising in the distance. Black smoke, too much of it to be from cooking fires or hearth smoke.
"Is that Millhaven?" Mira asked.
Ren checked his map, then looked at the smoke again. The location was right, but something was wrong. Very wrong.
"We need to get closer," he said.
They left the road and approached the town through a wheat field. The grain was tall enough to hide them, but it also made it hard to see what was ahead. It wasn't until they reached the edge of the field that they got a clear view of Millhaven.
The town was burning.
Not just burning. Destroyed. The walls had been torn down. The buildings were collapsed ruins. Bodies lay scattered in the streets like broken dolls.
And walking among the ruins were things that had once been human.
"More undead," Mira whispered.
But these weren't like the creatures that had attacked Millbrook. These were different. Stronger. Some wore the remnants of armor and carried weapons. Others had been changed by dark magic, their bodies twisted into new and horrible shapes.
At the center of the town, where the mayor's house had once stood, a figure in black robes was directing the undead army. Even from a distance, Ren could feel the power radiating from it.
A death knight. One of the Shadow King's most feared servants.
"How many people lived in Millhaven?" Mira asked.
"About three hundred," Ren replied grimly.
They both understood what that meant. Three hundred people, now dead or worse. Three hundred new soldiers for the Shadow King's army.
"We can't help them," Ren said quietly. "It's too late."
"Then what do we do?"
Ren looked back at the villagers, who were hidden in the wheat field. Forty-three people who trusted him to keep them safe. Forty-three people who had nowhere else to go.
"We find another way," he said.
But as they retreated from the burning town, Ren couldn't shake the feeling that they were running out of options. The Shadow King's influence was spreading faster than anyone had expected. Soon there would be nowhere left to run.
The war had already begun, and so far, the darkness was winning.
They traveled for the rest of the day, staying off the main roads and avoiding other towns. By evening, they were exhausted, hungry, and no closer to safety than they had been that morning.
They made camp in an abandoned farmhouse, posting guards and trying to rest. But sleep was difficult. Everyone could feel it now – the wrongness in the air, the sense that something evil was growing stronger with each passing hour.
Ren sat by the window, watching for threats and trying to plan their next move. The map showed several other towns within a few days' travel, but how many of those were still standing? How many had already fallen to the Shadow King's armies?
Mira sat down beside him. Her shoulder was bandaged, but she seemed to be healing well.
"You're thinking too hard," she said.
"Someone has to."
"The old Kael thought too hard too, didn't he? That's why he was alone."
Ren looked at her in surprise. "How do you know that?"
"The stories my grandmother told. She said he was a good man, but he never learned to trust anyone else to help carry the burden."
"Maybe he was right not to trust. Look what happened to Millhaven."
"Millhaven fell because the Shadow King is powerful and cruel. Not because you trusted people to help."
Ren was quiet for a moment. "I remember fragments," he said finally. "Pieces of the old life. I had companions once. Friends who fought beside me. But they all died. Every single one of them. In the end, it was just me against the Shadow King, and I barely won."
"This time will be different."
"How can you be so sure?"
Mira smiled sadly. "Because this time, you're not just fighting for the world. You're fighting for specific people. For us. That makes you stronger, not weaker."
Before Ren could reply, one of the guards hissed a warning. "Something's coming up the road."
Ren moved to the window and peered out. In the moonlight, he could see a figure approaching on horseback. A lone rider, moving at a steady pace.
"Just one person," Ren said. "But be ready."
The rider stopped in front of the farmhouse and dismounted. In the dim light, Ren could see it was a woman in travel-stained clothes. She carried a bow and wore a sword at her side, but her movements didn't seem threatening.
"Hello in the house," she called out. "I'm looking for survivors from Millbrook village. I was told they might have come this way."
Ren frowned. Who would be looking for them specifically? And how had this person known which way they had gone?
He opened the door carefully, keeping one hand on Dawnbreaker's hilt. "Who's asking?"
The woman stepped into the light, and Ren's heart nearly stopped.
She was beautiful in an otherworldly way, with silver hair that seemed to glow in the moonlight and eyes the color of winter sky. Her face was ageless – she could have been twenty or two hundred. But it was her presence that took Ren's breath away. She radiated power and authority, like a queen or a goddess.
And she was looking at him with an expression of joy and sorrow mixed together.
"Hello, Kael," she said softly. "I've been waiting for you to come home."
Ren stared at her, memories stirring in the depths of his mind. A silver-haired woman weeping over a broken crown. A voice calling his name across a battlefield. A love that had lasted beyond death itself.
"Lyanna," he whispered.
She nodded, tears flowing down her perfect cheeks. "I told you I would wait for you. I told you I would find you when you returned."
"But you died. I remember... the Shadow King killed you."
"He killed my body. But my spirit endured. The old gods gave me a choice – pass on to whatever comes after death, or remain in the world to wait for you. I chose to wait."
"For a thousand years?"
"For as long as it took."
Ren stepped outside, hardly daring to believe what he was seeing. This was impossible. People didn't come back from the dead, not like this. Not whole and beautiful and unchanged.
But then again, he had been reborn too. Maybe impossible things were becoming possible again.
"How did you find me?" he asked.
"I felt it when you first touched Dawnbreaker. The awakening of your power sent ripples through the magical realm. I've been tracking those ripples ever since."
Lyanna looked past him to where the villagers were huddled in the farmhouse. "You've changed," she said with a small smile. "The old Kael wouldn't have burdened himself with protecting so many innocent people."
"Maybe that was his mistake."
"Maybe it was." She moved closer to him, and he caught the scent of winter roses and starlight. "I've brought news from the north. Not all of it is good."
"Tell me."
"The Shadow King has indeed returned, and he's stronger than before. His armies have already taken most of the northern kingdoms. But there's hope. The other allies marked on your map are still alive. Gareth the Bold holds the fortress of Ironhold in the mountains. Elena Swiftarrow guards the eastern forests. They're both waiting for you."
"What about the third location? The southern desert?"
Lyanna's expression darkened. "Magnus the Wise is... changed. The years have not been kind to him. He may help you, but he may not. The desert has made him strange and bitter."
Ren nodded. Two certain allies, one questionable. It wasn't much to build an army with, but it was more than he had an hour ago.
"There's something else," Lyanna said. "The Shadow King knows you've awakened. He's sending his most powerful servants to hunt you. The attack on your village was just the beginning."
"I know. We saw what happened to Millhaven."
"Millhaven was a message. A warning. He wants you to know that everyone who helps you will die. He's trying to break your spirit before you can become strong enough to challenge him."
"Then we need to move fast."
"Yes. But not with them." Lyanna nodded toward the villagers. "They'll slow you down, and they'll be targets. Every moment they spend with you puts them in greater danger."
"I can't just abandon them."
"You can't save them if you're dead either."
Mira appeared in the doorway. She looked at Lyanna with undisguised suspicion and something that might have been jealousy.
"Who is this?" she asked.
"An old friend," Ren replied. "Lyanna, this is Mira. She's a healer."
"And more than that, I think," Lyanna said, studying Mira with those winter-blue eyes. "You love him."
Mira blushed but didn't deny it. "Someone has to keep him alive."
"Yes," Lyanna agreed. "Someone does. The question is, are you prepared for what that will cost?"
"What do you mean?"
Lyanna looked back at Ren. "The path ahead is darker than anything you faced in your first life. The Shadow King has had a thousand years to prepare. He won't make the same mistakes he made before. If you're going to stop him, you'll have to become something more than just a hero. You'll have to become a force of nature. Cold. Ruthless. Willing to sacrifice anything and anyone to achieve victory."
"Including the people I care about?"
"Especially the people you care about."
The words hung in the air like a curse. Ren looked at Mira, at the villagers crowded in the farmhouse, at all the innocent people who would suffer if he failed.
"No," he said finally. "The old Kael might have thought that way, but I won't. If I have to become a monster to defeat monsters, then I've already lost."
Lyanna sighed. "That compassion will either be your greatest strength or your greatest weakness."
"Then I guess we'll find out which."
She smiled sadly. "Very well. But if you insist on protecting them, we need to find them a safe place. Somewhere the Shadow King's influence hasn't reached yet."
"Is there such a place?"
"Maybe. There are rumors of a sanctuary in the eastern forests. A hidden valley protected by old magic. Elena might know how to find it."
"Then that's where we're going."
"It's a week's journey through dangerous territory."
"Then we better get started."
As they prepared to leave the farmhouse, Ren found himself caught between hope and despair. He had found an ally, someone who had known him in his previous life and could help him remember who he had been.
But he had also learned that the task ahead was even more impossible than he had thought. The Shadow King wasn't just stronger – he was smarter. More prepared. And he was willing to destroy everything Ren cared about to prevent his return.
The war for the soul of the world was just beginning, and Ren wasn't sure he was strong enough to win it.
But he had to try. Because if he didn't, everyone he had ever cared about would die, and the world would be plunged into eternal darkness.
The legend would have to be enough.
Even if he wasn't sure what kind of legend he was becoming.