The scar still burned.
Kael sat on the edge of his straw mat, gripping his chest where the faint glow pulsed beneath the skin. He had scrubbed at it until his flesh was raw, but nothing dulled the mark left by the bone-masked figure in his dream. It wasn't just a scar. It felt alive, like something branded into his soul.
When he moved, he swore he could feel the whisper stir.
"Closer now," it breathed, curling around his thoughts like smoke. "We are bound."
Kael shut his eyes and forced himself to breathe. In, steady. Out, slow. He couldn't let Serenya or Eldran see it. Not yet. Not when he didn't understand what it meant.
A knock rattled the hut door. He flinched, dragging his shirt down over the faint glow.
"Kael," Serenya's voice called, calm but edged. "We're needed."
---
The village square was busier than usual. A group of hunters dragged the carcass of a horned beast across the dirt, its hide shredded, blood leaving a long crimson trail. Children peeked from doorways, whispering, while the elders gathered in tight knots of discussion. Fear lingered in the air, sour and heavy.
Eldran stood at the center, staff planted firmly, eyes shadowed with concern.
"Another attack," he announced as Kael and Serenya approached. "But not from the forests. This time, it came from the old ruins."
Murmurs rippled through the villagers.
"The ruins are cursed," one spat.
"No one goes near them," another hissed.
Eldran silenced them with a raised hand. "Curses or not, the barrier weakens. And something stirs within. We will need to investigate."
All eyes turned—inevitably—to Kael.
He felt it like a weight pressing against his chest. Their stares weren't hopeful. They weren't admiring. They were calculating, waiting, watching.
As if deciding whether he was their savior… or their doom.
"See?" the whisper purred. "Even now, they push you forward. Let you bleed for them, die for them. And if you fall, they will bury their doubts in your corpse."
Kael gritted his teeth, fingers brushing the cleaver at his hip. He wanted to shout, to demand they stop staring at him like that. But Serenya's hand brushed his arm—light, grounding.
"Don't give them what they fear," she murmured.
---
The journey to the ruins took them beyond the forest's edge, into a land scarred and twisted. The trees grew sparse, their branches blackened as though scorched long ago. The air tasted of ash, dry and bitter. And in the distance, rising like broken teeth against the sky, stood the ruins.
They weren't mere rubble. They were remnants of towers, jagged and hollow, humming faintly with a power that made Kael's skin crawl.
Serenya nocked an arrow as they approached. "This place should be dead," she muttered. "Why do I hear it breathing?"
Kael heard it too—the faint echo, like a sigh slipping through stone. The closer they came, the louder it grew, until it was no longer just sound. It was inside his head.
"Home."
He staggered, clutching his chest. The mark burned hotter, pulsing in time with the whispers.
"Kael?" Serenya's bow lowered, her eyes sharp with worry.
"I'm fine," he lied, though sweat slicked his brow. "Keep moving."
But he wasn't fine. With each step, the ruins called louder. It wasn't just a place. It was a memory, a tether. Somehow, he knew—this was where his power came from. Or worse, where it wanted to return.
---
They reached the entrance: a collapsed archway carved with symbols half-buried in dirt and vines. Eldran traced them with his staff, frowning.
"These markings speak of a pact," he murmured. "A bargain between men and something… other. It was sealed here, long ago."
Kael's vision blurred. The symbols writhed, glowing faintly. He could almost read them—not with his eyes, but with the mark burning in his chest. Words whispered in a tongue he should not know.
Rise again. Rise again. Rise again.
He stumbled back, gasping. Serenya caught his arm, steadying him. "Kael, what is it?"
But before he could answer, the ground beneath the arch shuddered. Dust rained from the stones. From the shadows within the ruins came a low, guttural growl.
Then, eyes. Dozens of them, opening all at once, gleaming red in the dark.
The beast that emerged was nothing like the one in the village. Its body was a grotesque fusion of flesh and stone, limbs twisting at unnatural angles, face half-masked in bone. It dragged itself forward with a howl that shook the ruins.
The villagers behind them screamed.
"Fall back!" Eldran shouted. His staff flared with light, forming a barrier between the beast and the villagers. "Kael, Serenya—hold it here!"
Kael's cleaver was already in his hand, his pulse racing. But as he charged, the whispers surged, drowning out thought.
"Do not fight it. Join it. You are the same."
The beast's bone mask glowed faintly—the same glow that burned beneath Kael's skin.
When their blades clashed, the mark seared, and Kael felt a shock tear through him. Images flooded his mind—shadows of chained figures, their screams blending with his own. He stumbled, cleaver shaking, as the beast's claws raked sparks against his weapon.
"Kael!" Serenya's voice cut through the haze. Her arrow thudded into the beast's shoulder, buying him a heartbeat of space. "Focus!"
But the whispers laughed.
"She cannot save you from what you are."
Kael roared, forcing himself forward, cleaver cleaving into the beast's flesh. Black ichor sprayed, sizzling where it touched the ground. The beast shrieked, half in pain, half in rage.
For a moment, Kael felt triumphant. But then the mark flared again, brighter, hungrier. The ichor hissed as it touched his arm, and instead of burning—it sank in.
Power surged. His vision went white.
When it cleared, his cleaver was buried deep in the beast's chest. The creature collapsed, twitching, its many eyes dimming one by one.
The villagers gasped. Serenya lowered her bow, staring. Eldran's barrier faded.
But Kael didn't hear them. He stared at his hand—the veins crawling black beneath his skin, the mark glowing brighter than ever.
The whispers no longer needed to shout. They spoke clearly now, cold and certain.
"You are not their savior. You are ours."
---