The ruins of Caer Thalon rose before us like the ribs of a dead god. Stone towers, half-swallowed by vines and ash, reached toward a sky that refused to be still. Clouds churned in slow spirals, heavy and gray, charged with that strange pulse I had begun to recognize as the heartbeat of the storm itself.
We stopped at the ridge overlooking the old city. Wind slid through broken arches and hollowed-out walls, carrying the faint echo of voices that no one alive should have remembered. It felt like the air itself was watching us.
Drokmar stood at the edge, his silhouette massive against the swirling gray. His expression did not change, but I could sense unease in the way the ground seemed to shift under his boots. Aurelius was already studying the layout below, his eyes sharp, his mind turning like gears inside a clock. Lyren stayed behind me, half in shadow, her movements quiet but deliberate.
"First Seal lies beneath the Temple Quarter," Aurelius said at last. "Or what remains of it. The paths below are unstable. We enter from the west."
I nodded, though my attention was fixed on the air above the ruins. Lightning flickered, faint but deliberate, tracing patterns that almost looked like symbols. It was the same feeling I had felt since that night , when the storm first called my name. A pull. A memory that was not mine.
We descended through what was once the market square. Stalls turned to rubble, statues half-buried in dirt, streets split by old roots that clawed their way through stone. The deeper we went, the colder it became. Every breath hung in the air, and the storm's hum followed us, faint, constant, alive.
Lyren moved ahead, her hand on her blade, eyes scanning every corner. "It feels wrong," she said. "This place. Like it is waiting for something to wake up."
Aurelius did not look up from his device, a flickering sphere of glass and metal that hummed softly. "It is waiting," he replied. "But not for us. For him."
He meant me.
Before I could answer, the ground trembled. Dust rained from the remains of a nearby archway. The vibration came again , heavier this time , followed by a sound like stone scraping against bone.
"Contact," Drokmar said, his voice steady, though his stance had already shifted into readiness.
From the far end of the plaza, a figure emerged. It was human once, perhaps. Now it was something else entirely. A statue given movement and rage, its body cracked and glowing from within, molten lines running like veins through its chest. A Warden , one of the old protectors of the Seals.
Aurelius raised his hand. "Do not engage. Observe first."
The Warden's head turned toward him, the movement sharp, unnatural. Then it looked at me. The cracks across its chest widened, and the light inside flared like fire meeting oil.
"Too late," I said.
The creature lunged.
The ground split beneath its steps, sending shards of stone in every direction. I moved instinctively, drawing the storm up through my arms. Lightning coiled around my hands, cold and alive. I met the Warden's first strike head-on, the impact thundering through me. The shock drove me back several paces, but I caught my balance before falling.
Drokmar charged next, his fist colliding with the creature's side. The blow would have broken steel. The Warden barely moved. Instead, it grabbed Drokmar's arm and threw him against a shattered wall with impossible force.
Lyren darted in, faster than I could track, her blade flashing through the air. The edge bit into the Warden's shoulder, cutting through a line of molten stone. It roared , a sound that shook the ruins , and swung its arm in a wide arc. She leapt back just in time, her cloak slicing through the air.
Aurelius's voice cut through the chaos. "Kael. The seal within it is active. That is what keeps it alive. You must drain it."
I gritted my teeth. "You could have mentioned that sooner."
He did not answer.
I focused on the glow in the Warden's chest. The storm inside me stirred, restless, eager. I reached out, letting the lightning run through my veins, letting it connect with that molten light. The two forces met like clashing tides , power against power , and for a moment, I felt both burning and freezing at once.
The Warden staggered. Cracks spread wider across its body. Drokmar recovered and slammed both fists into its torso. The ground beneath us shattered, sending a ring of dust outward. Lyren drove her blade into the same spot. I released the energy I had been holding, and it exploded through the Warden like a thunderclap.
When the light faded, the creature was gone. Nothing left but fragments of stone still glowing faintly in the dirt.
Silence.
Only the wind moved now, carrying the faint smell of rain. I knelt, touching the ground where the Warden fell. The air still vibrated, faint and warm, but underneath that, something else , a voice.
It was not a sound I could truly hear. More like a thought pressed into my mind.
You have taken what was sealed. The storm remembers its own.
I stood slowly. Drokmar looked at me, uncertain. Lyren cleaned her blade and sheathed it without a word. Aurelius studied me as though he already knew what I had heard.
"What was that?" I asked him.
"The Seal acknowledging you," he said. "It has not forgotten who you are. Even if you have."
He turned and started walking toward the next archway. The others followed, their footsteps echoing through the hollow streets.
I lingered for a moment. The storm above Caer Thalon was calmer now, the spirals fading, but I could still feel it , that connection, that strange, ancient recognition. The storm was not just reacting to me anymore. It was remembering through me.
And deep within that awareness, a thought took root.
If the storm could remember me… then it could remember others.
Others like me.