Kaelen was not a hero, but a "Relic-Runner"—a man who knew exactly which ruins would kill you and which would make you rich. His latest map was not parchment; it was a fragmented crystal memory chip, bought with three fingers and a scar that ran from his neck to his jaw. It pointed to the "Silent City" in the Whispering Desert, where King Arisen allegedly hid the Chronicle, a legendary artifact said to command absolute obedience from any living thing.
Kaelen wasn't alone. He was pursued by the "Iron Hand," a mercenary company, and their leader, a ruthless sorceress named Vala, who wanted the Chronicle to enslave the kingdom.
The journey was a blur of dodging arcane traps, surviving sand-shifters, and outwitting rival hunters. Kaelen, motivated by greed and a secret debt, grew more desperate as Vala drew closer. He used his last few resources to cross the "Veil of Whispers," a magical barrier that almost drove him mad.
Finally, Kaelen found the central chamber, a vast library suspended over a void. There, on a pedestal of obsidian, lay the Chronicle—not a book, but a golden gauntlet humming with power.
Vala arrived just as he grabbed it. "Drop it, runner, and I might let you live to be my slave," she sneered, surrounded by her men.
Kaelen laughed—a dry, desperate sound. He didn't drop the gauntlet; he shoved his hand into it. The gauntlet snapped shut, bonding with his arm.
But nothing happened. No lightning, no mental enslavement, no command over Vala.
"It's broken," Vala said, stunned.
"No," Kaelen said, looking at the gauntlet, his voice shaking. "It works perfectly. But the legends are wrong. The Chronicle doesn't command others... it forces the wearer to tell the absolute, undeniable truth."
Kaelen had to kill to get here. He had betrayed his partner for that map. He had manipulated everyone to reach this point. With the gauntlet now controlling his vocal cords, Kaelen couldn't lie, couldn't charm, and couldn't hide his intentions. He was bound to his own conscience, compelled to admit his sins.
"I... I am a coward," Kaelen forced out, the gauntlet compelling his speech. "And I have no idea how to stop you."
Vala looked at the weeping, bound runner, then at the gauntlet that compelled such honest, pathetic weakness. It was worthless to her; it couldn't command an army if it only told the truth. She turned to leave, dismissing him as a broken man.
But the real treasure wasn't the power to command others; it was the forced wisdom of truth. Kaelen, now unable to lie to himself, finally realized the real threat wasn't Vala—it was the corrupt kingdom he had been running from. Using the gauntlet's power to compel truth in all his dealings, he began to dismantle Vala's empire from within, one undeniable, inconvenient truth at a time.