The ruins of Armathis were quiet. Too quiet.
Where once the Soulforge had pulsed with unnatural life, now there was only silence, broken shards scattered like black glass across the square. Soldiers moved through the rubble in weary silence, their armor dented, their weapons chipped.
They had survived. But it did not feel like victory.
Kaien lay on a cot inside one of the less-cracked ruins, his body wrapped in bandages. His breathing was shallow, his chest rising and falling with effort. For two days, he had not woken.
Selene sat at his side, her staff propped against the wall. Dark circles marked her eyes, her hands trembling every time she tried to heal him. Whatever wounds he carried weren't just physical—they were deeper, like the curse had sunk claws into his very soul.
Commander Varic entered quietly, his heavy boots crunching against the stone. He looked at Kaien for a long moment, then exhaled through his nose. "He saved us all, but the boy's paying the price."
Selene's voice was soft, but sharp. "He's not a boy. Not anymore. He faced a General, Varic. And he broke the Soulforge when none of us could even touch it."
"Aye," Varic admitted. "And that's what worries me." His gaze lingered on Kaien's faintly glowing aura, the shadows flickering around him even in sleep. "The demon called him half-breed."
The words hung in the air like poison.
Selene's jaw tightened. "It was a taunt. A lie meant to weaken him."
"Maybe," Varic said grimly. "Or maybe not. Tell me you haven't wondered. Tell me you haven't felt it—the way the shadows cling to him, the way the Abyss answers him when it devours the rest of us."
Selene's silence was answer enough.
Varic turned toward the shattered square. "If he is what they claim… then the boy's not just our hope. He's a blade waiting to cut us all, one way or another."
---
On the third night, Kaien woke.
His eyes snapped open, violet sparks flickering faintly in the darkness. For a moment, he did not know where he was. The smell of ash, the weight of silence, the ache in his chest—it all blurred together.
Then he saw Selene. She was asleep in the chair beside his cot, her hand resting against the edge of the bed as though she had been holding onto him even in her dreams.
Kaien pushed himself up slowly, biting back a groan of pain. The movement stirred her awake.
"Kaien," she gasped, eyes widening. Relief washed over her face like sunlight breaking through clouds. "You're alive."
He gave her a weak smile. "Wouldn't be the first time I've been close to the other side."
She scowled faintly, but her eyes shimmered. "Don't joke about that."
Silence stretched between them before Kaien asked the question that had been gnawing at him since the battle. "Selene… what did Malrik mean? When he called me half-breed?"
Her lips parted, but no words came. She looked away. "You shouldn't dwell on his lies. Demons thrive on breaking minds as much as bodies."
But Kaien shook his head. "It didn't feel like a lie. He said it like he knew. Like… like he was certain."
His hand tightened on the cot sheet. "What am I, Selene? Why do the shadows answer me?"
She turned back to him, her eyes heavy with conflict. "I don't know, Kaien. And that terrifies me."
Before either could say more, the horn sounded from the walls.
Both of them froze, their exhaustion swept away in an instant.
Varic stormed into the room a moment later, his expression grim. "Scouts have returned. The horde is pulling back from the north."
Selene frowned. "Pulling back? That doesn't make sense. They never retreat."
"They're not retreating," Varic growled. "They're gathering. All of them. South. Toward the Citadel."
Kaien's blood ran cold. "The Demon King…"
Varic's nod was slow, grim. "The King is moving. And if he comes in person, no wall we've built will hold."
The weight of the words settled like a storm cloud.
Kaien pushed himself up despite Selene's protest, his body screaming in pain. He reached for his sword, still leaning against the wall. His reflection wavered in the steel—tired eyes, pale skin, and behind it, faint flickers of violet.
"I don't care what I am," he said, voice steady despite the turmoil in his chest. "Half-breed, cursed, chosen—it doesn't matter. If the King's coming, then I'll cut him down."
Selene's eyes burned as she looked at him, torn between fear and faith.
Outside, thunder rumbled across the ruins, as if the world itself had heard his vow.