Dawn broke, pale and weak, filtering through the ivy curtain to illuminate their grim sanctuary. The adrenaline had faded, leaving behind the stark reality of the night. The body of the warg lay where it had fallen, a hulk of scaly, lifeless flesh. The air still carried the acrid tang of its sizzling venom and the metallic scent of blood.
Kael sat with his back against the cold stone, the katana across his lap. His right hand, the one that had channeled the cold, was numb, the skin pale and tingling. But the corrupting black lines had not spread. He had controlled it. The memory should have been exhilarating, a spark of triumph in the relentless darkness.
Instead, he felt hollow. He stared at the dead creature, its green eyes glazed over. He had not killed it—Sera had—but his power had been the catalyst. This was the reality of the Path he carried. It attracted violence. It demanded death.
Sera was methodically cleaning the small area. She used a sharp stone to scrape the venom-burned patches of earth, burying the residue deep. She handled the corpse without flinching, dragging it to the very back of the cave. There was a practiced efficiency to her movements that spoke of a familiarity with death he did not possess.
"They will attract scavengers," she said, her voice neutral, answering his unspoken question. "But it is better than leaving the poison out in the open."
He finally found his voice, rough and quiet. "Does it ever get easier?"
She paused, looking up from her task. Her violet eyes were clear, but the shadows under them seemed deeper this morning. "Does what get easier?"
"This." He gestured vaguely at the cave, the dead warg, his own throbbing arm. "The killing. The running. The constant fear."
Sera considered him for a long moment, then sat back on her heels. "The fear does not get easier. You simply learn to make a space for it, to let it sit beside you without letting it choke you. The killing…" She looked toward the dead beast, her expression unreadable. "...should never get easier. The day it becomes easy is the day you lose the part of you that is worth protecting."
Her words were not a comfort; they were a weight. They acknowledged the horror and asked him to carry it anyway.
"You weren't afraid," he observed. "You moved like… like you knew exactly what to do."
A faint, weary smile touched her lips. "I was terrified. But action is the antidote to panic. I have had practice." She didn't elaborate on what that practice was. She never did.
She stood and walked over to him, kneeling to examine his hand. Her fingers were cool and sure as they probed his palm and wrist. "The energy receded. You did not force it. You guided it. That is the foundation of control." Her praise was clinical, but it was praise nonetheless.
"It felt like holding back a tide with a single hand," he admitted, the memory of that immense, cold pressure still vivid.
"And yet, you held it," she said, her gaze lifting from his hand to his eyes. "You are stronger than you know, Kael Ardyn. The Path did not choose a weak vessel."
The way she said his name—with a certainty he himself didn't feel—sent a strange shiver through him, one that had nothing to do with the Mistress Path.
He looked away, suddenly overwhelmed. "What now? We can't stay here."
"No," she agreed, standing and offering him her hand. "We move deeper. The wargs are a symptom. Their presence means we are near a place of strong, twisted energy. A place where the rules are thin." She pulled him to his feet with surprising strength. "It is also a place where we might find answers. And perhaps… others who do not bow to the Temple or the gods."
The concept was so foreign it took him a moment to process. Others? He had spent his life as an outlier, the only one without a Path. The idea that there might be a whole community of people living outside the divine order was staggering.
He shouldered the katana, the weight now feeling different. It was no longer just a burden or a key. It was a responsibility he was only beginning to understand.
As they prepared to leave the bloody cave behind, Kael took one last look at the evidence of their struggle. The taste of ashes was still in his mouth, the image of death behind his eyes.
But Sera's words echoed in his mind. The day it becomes easy is the day you lose the part of you that is worth protecting.
He looked at her, a silhouette of resolve against the morning light, and knew with sudden, absolute clarity that she was the part he would protect, no matter the cost. Even if the price was learning to live with the fear. Even if the price was learning to wield the darkness within.
"Alright," he said, his voice firmer than it had been all morning. "Let's find these answers."
Together, they stepped out of the cave and into the unknown, leaving the scent of blood and death behind, carrying its memory with them.