Chapter 8 – The Birth of the Fugitive
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– The Burial
The damp earth was stained with Elyndra's dried blood.
Kael, on his knees, dug with his hands, his nails broken and bleeding.
Each handful of soil was a weight upon his heart.
In front of him lay his master. Her pale skin seemed as if she were only asleep, and the breeze caressed her silver hair as though she still breathed.
—No… I don't want to leave you here… —Kael sobbed, his voice breaking—. I don't want to be alone again…
The forest was silent. Even the birds had gone mute, as if mourning with him.
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– The Oath
When he finished covering the body, Kael drove his daggers into the ground, one on each side, like an offering and a promise.
He bent down until his forehead touched the fresh grave, his tears soaking the soil.
—I swear to you, Master… —he whispered in a shattered voice—. I will bring your clan back to life… and mine. I'll make sure no one ever loses what I lost.
He raised his face, his eyes red from crying.
—And I'll destroy everything… everything that stands in my way.
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– The Inheritance
A breeze swept across the clearing. The pendant Elyndra had left him glimmered faintly, as if approving his words.
The wind swirled around Kael, embracing him like the last farewell of his adoptive mother.
He rose slowly, tears still streaming down his cheeks.
The air, heavy with magic, mingled with the shadows beneath his feet.
—Master… —he murmured, his chest trembling—. I will avenge you.
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– The Arrival of the Trackers
Among the trees, the survivors of the ambush drew near, whispering.
—Has the brat finished crying yet?
—Perfect, now we'll catch him. He's weak.
The leader smiled, greed gleaming in his eyes.
—That power will be ours.
Kael didn't reply. He only turned slowly toward them, the wind whipping his hair, the shadows rising behind him like black wings.
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– The First Execution
The first tracker charged at him. Kael didn't move until the very last second.
The air whistled, and in a dark flash he slit the man's throat with a dagger wrapped in wind and shadow.
The body collapsed soundlessly.
The others staggered back in fear.
—What… what was that?
Kael lifted his gaze. He no longer cried. His expression was empty, cold, like the edge of his blades.
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– The Dance of Vengeance
The daggers moved with lethal precision.
The wind carried him like a phantom, appearing and vanishing among his enemies.
Shadows tore through the ground, the branches, the bodies.
The trackers screamed, falling one after another, unable to follow his rhythm.
Kael was no longer the frightened child: he was a predator, an assassin born of tragedy.
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– The Last Survivor
Only one remained. Terrified, he fell to his knees, trembling.
—Wait! We can talk! I'll tell you who hired us!
Kael stared at him in silence. The wind roared around him, the shadows stretching long like hungry claws.
—I don't care anymore.
The man's scream was cut short with a slash, and blood stained the grass.
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– Cliffhanger
The clearing was littered with corpses. The wind whistled, dragging leaves stained red.
Kael stood among the carnage, his daggers still dripping, Elyndra's pendant glowing against his chest.
He lifted his eyes to the night sky, the dry trails of tears still on his face.
—I am Kael… disciple of Elyndra…
The wind answered with a howl, as if engraving his vow into eternity.
And deep within the shadows, something stirred, drawn by his hatred.
To be continued…