Chapter 5: The King’s Command
As Kael’s hands reached over the sword’s hilt, he felt something familiar pulling him in. It wasn’t simply calling to him—it was waiting for him. The moment his fingers touched the hilt, power surged through his veins, his breathing stuck midway. His vision blurred, and before he could do anything, everything around him vanished.
He was somewhere else.
Darkness surrounded him. There was no ground beneath him, but he didn’t fall. The sky was red like a blood moon, stretching endlessly in every direction. A tiny breeze carried the scent of something old and forgotten.
Then—he saw him.
A lone figure sat in the far distance, unmoving. Kael hesitated before stepping forward, cautious. With each step he took, the image became sharper. The man wasn’t just sitting on the ground. He was seated on a pile of bodies. Warriors, soldiers—fallen in battle—lay beneath him. Shattered armor, broken weapons, and the remains of an endless war surrounded him like a graveyard frozen in time.
Yet, the man didn’t move.
He sat in silence, his head bowed, his presence godly. It felt heavy with something Kael didn’t understand. His face remained hidden, but something about him felt familiar—like an old wound, distant yet unforgettable.
The air was thick with the weight of loss. But he wasn’t alone.
Shadows crawled around his legs, slithered over his shoulders, moving like they were alive. They weren’t just part of him—they were their own beings, as if they had minds of their own. They clung to him, as though trying to comfort him.
Kael took another step.
At that moment, the man lifted his head.