The smoke lingered like a curse.
Silverwood no longer smelled of bread ovens and wildflowers but of charred timber and fear. Houses that had stood for generations were nothing more than blackened skeletons; the inn's sign creaked pitifully on a single hinge, and the once-lively square was strewn with ash that swirled at every step. Villagers moved through the ruins in a daze, clutching what little remained—burnt tools, half-crushed baskets, a locket plucked from debris.
Kael stood at the village's edge, cane planted in the soft earth, his sightless eyes tilted toward the horizon as if listening to something beyond mortal hearing. His breathing was steady, but a heaviness clung to him, the echo of battle. Beside him, Rylan surveyed the devastation with arms crossed tightly, jaw clenched.
And between them, half in shadow, stood the girl who had set the night ablaze.
Liora's hands trembled, faint embers still fading from her fingertips. Her hair clung damp to her forehead, and though exhaustion weighed on her, her golden eyes burned with defiance. She had saved them—Silverwood would have been annihilated without her fire—but the destruction she left in her wake whispered of something uncontrollable.
"You should rest," Kaela muttered, stepping in quickly to Liora's side, wrapping an arm protectively around her. Her expression, fierce as ever, dared anyone to come too close. "She gave everything she had to keep us alive. She doesn't need your stares."
The villagers didn't argue, but their glances cut sharp as knives. Gratitude warred with fear. Fire was salvation and destruction both, and now it walked among them in the form of a girl.
Rylan broke the silence first. "You expect them to welcome her after this?" he asked, low but pointed. His dark gaze flicked between Kael and Liora. "Half their homes are gone. Half their lives. And she's the one who lit the sky."
Kaela bristled, ready to retort, but Kael raised a hand. The gesture was quiet, commanding. "Enough."
Rylan's jaw tightened, but he fell silent.
Kael turned slightly toward Liora. Though his face remained unreadable behind the faint veil of his hood, there was a gravity in the way he angled his head, as if weighing her presence against the ruin around them.
"You burned away the darkness," he said softly, voice carrying like a thread through the smoke. "But fire leaves scars."
Liora stiffened. "So I'm a curse, is that it?"
"No." Kael's tone deepened. "You are a warning."
The words landed heavy, neither comfort nor condemnation. Kaela's grip on Liora's shoulder tightened, as though she could shield her friend from the judgment in the air.
Before more could be said, figures emerged from the smoke—rebels in worn cloaks, weapons slung across their backs. Their leader, a broad-shouldered woman with a scar over her brow, strode forward, her gaze sharp as flint.
"We heard the clash," she said, voice rough from years of command. Her eyes swept across the wreckage, then lingered on Kael. "And we heard of what you did, Veiled Prince. The people whisper already—of shadows slain and fire that fell from the sky."
Liora shifted uneasily under that gaze.
The woman's lips curled into something between a smile and a sneer. "So it's true. The blind prince walks with power after all. And now…" Her gaze locked onto Liora. "…you bring us a girl who bleeds flame. Tell me, Prince, are we meant to believe this is fortune? Or folly?"
Murmurs rippled among the rebels behind her. Some nodded eagerly, as though destiny itself had set these two before them. Others scowled, already seeing only danger.
Kael's grip on his cane tightened. "This village would have been ashes without her. That is truth."
"Truth can still burn us alive," another rebel muttered.
Kaela bristled again. "She saved all of you. Maybe start with thanks before spitting fear."
The scarred leader held up a hand to silence the mutters. Her gaze returned to Kael. "If she walks with us, it is on your word. But know this—rebellion is fragile, Prince. One spark too wild, and it consumes everything."
The words were warning, not dismissal. Still, they planted seeds of unease.
Kael inclined his head once, calm and resolute. "Then we walk carefully."
---
That night, what was left of Silverwood huddled around meager fires, cooking what little food remained. The air was thick with sorrow and whispered prayers. Liora sat apart with Kaela, staring into the flames as though afraid of what she might see reflected there.
Kael approached quietly, his steps soundless save for the soft tap of his cane. Rylan followed close behind, ever watchful.
For a moment Kael simply stood near, listening. The fire popped, villagers murmured, and somewhere a child whimpered in sleep. Then, softly, he spoke.
"You fear yourself."
Liora's head snapped toward him, eyes narrowing. "What would you know of it?"
Kael tilted his head, veil shifting with the motion. "Enough. I have lived as the powerless one. Watched, judged, bound by what others believed I lacked. You—" His voice deepened, carrying quiet resonance. "—you will live bound by what they believe you can destroy."
The words struck her harder than she expected. She looked away quickly, fists clenching in her lap.
"I didn't ask for this," she muttered.
"Neither did I."
Their voices lingered in the night, the beginning of something fragile.
Rylan stepped forward, arms crossed. "Trust doesn't come easy, Prince. Especially not when flames nearly swallowed us whole."
Liora's temper flared. "You think I wanted that? That I wanted to watch everything burn?"
Kaela was on her feet in an instant, standing between them, voice sharp as steel. "Enough! She saved you. She saved all of you. If you can't see that, maybe you're the blind one."
The air went tense. For a heartbeat, the only sound was the crackle of fire.
Then Kael spoke again, calm but firm. "Fear sharpens words, but truth must hold us steady. We cannot fight each other when darker hunts us all."
His words cooled the heat in the air, though Rylan's eyes still lingered warily on Liora.
---
Far away, in the obsidian halls of Calderis, rage burned colder than any fire.
King Calderis stood before the shattered remains of a Duskborn helm, tossed at his feet by a trembling messenger. His eyes, pale and cruel, fixed on the shadows gathering at the edges of the throne room.
"They failed," he said softly, too softly. "My hunters, undone by fire and whispers."
The messenger dared a nod. "Y-yes, my king. The reports speak of… the prince. And… a girl."
Calderis's hand tightened on the arm of his throne until the metal groaned. "The prince should not live, let alone rise. And now a flame-born stands beside him?"
Silence. The shadows shifted uneasily.
"Then it is time," Calderis said, his voice like a blade drawn in the dark. "Unseal the Obsidian Legion."
A ripple of dread coursed through the chamber. Even the shadows recoiled.
The king's smile was thin, merciless. "If the boy wishes to gather allies, let him. We will show him what true power looks like when the darkness marches."
---
Back in Silverwood, dawn broke pale and uncertain. The village smoldered still, but the air carried the faintest breath of renewal. Birds dared a few tentative calls from the charred treetops.
Kael stood at the edge of the ruins, veil stirring in the morning breeze. Beside him, Liora approached hesitantly, Kaela at her side. For the first time, she met his veiled gaze without flinching.
"Where does this path lead?" she asked quietly.
Kael turned his head slightly, listening as though the wind itself whispered answers only he could hear. "Toward the storm. Toward the heart of the empire. And toward truths neither of us are ready for."
His words sent a shiver through her, but beneath the fear stirred something else—something like resolve.
For the first time since the flames, she nodded.
"Then I'll walk it with you."
The fragile alliance was forged, not in trust nor certainty, but in necessity—and in the unspoken knowledge that fate had bound them long before this night.
Behind them, the rebels gathered, some doubtful, some eager. Rylan lingered, still wary but unwilling to leave Kael's side. Kaela's arm stayed firmly looped through Liora's, unyielding in her pro
tection.
Together, they stepped from the ashes toward whatever waited beyond.
And far away, darkness began to march.
---