Kael
The alley stank of blood.
His blood.
Every breath was harder now. Every step slower. The cut across his side had deepened when he twisted to block the third strike. A lucky blade had sliced just beneath his ribs. Then another had found his thigh. He no longer knew how many wounds he had—he just knew he was still standing.
Barely.
They kept coming.
Men thirsty for blood, blades shining red now, circling him like wolves.
He slashed left, drove his boot into the chest of the nearest attacker, spun with a roar, and forced another back with a wide, desperate swing. But they didn't fear him. They didn't care.
Because they weren't here for him.
They were here for her.
And Seraphina was huddled behind a stack of crates at the far end of the alley, her cloak tangled around her small frame, her hands shaking over her ears.
Kael shouted over his shoulder. "Don't watch, little star!"
But she did.
She always did.
Even now, her wide, tear-streaked eyes were locked on him, frozen with terror as he fought to keep her alive.
He gritted his teeth.
He wasn't going to last.
And he knew it.
But what terrified him more than dying was the thought of her—small and alone—facing the world without him.
He wasn't afraid of pain. He'd known pain. He wasn't afraid of death. He'd made peace with that long ago. But the idea of her being taken—by them, by fate—
That made him pray.
Harder than he did when they fled Braelith. Harder than the night they crossed the cliffs in the snow. Harder than ever before.
Let her live. Let her run. Let her be just a girl again.
Please.
Take me—but not her.
She was watching.
She always watched, no matter how many times he told her not to.
Even now—terrified, shaking—her eyes never left him. He could feel it.
And he feared what this would do to her. He just needed more time.
A temple guard had run for help. Just a little more time.
He saw the blade—but his body was too slow.
And when the sword ran him through, when his knees gave way, he saw it—the way her little body jolted, the sound she made.
She screamed his name.
Crawled to him.
Little star, your clothes are filthy now, he thought.
He felt her hands press to his wound. Desperate. Shaking. So small.
"Get up," she cried. "You said you'd never leave. You promised."
Her voice was breaking. He couldn't speak. He could barely breathe.
She tried to hold him together with both hands. Her warmth on his skin. Her sobs against his neck.
And it broke him in a different way.
He smiled at her. His beautiful daughter. A tear ran down his cheek.
She was trying to fix him. Like it could work.
Maybe she thought that if she held hard enough, he'd stay.
He saw her small palms trying to stop the bleeding, pressing so hard it hurt. She was shouting now—at him, at the wound, at the world.
"Please, Kael! Stop bleeding! Just stop! You're not allowed to leave!"
She was trying to fix it, like a child fixing a broken toy, not understanding why it wouldn't snap back together.
Oh Divine God, please—watch over her.
His vision blurred. His once-hardened face now streaked with grief.
And that hurt more than the sword.
He wanted to reach up and wipe her tears.
He wanted to say he was sorry.
That she deserved more.
And then he felt it.
A shift.
A trembling in the air. A pressure in her grip.
Then light—blinding, raw.
It wasn't soft. It was wild. Raging.
A scream without sound. A storm without sky.
The air twisted, like something ancient waking up from sleep.
The blood on the stones shimmered.
The shadows turned, confused.
And then silence...They were gone.
Burned out of the world.
He couldn't see her, but he could still feel her.
Still clutching his hand.
Still there.
She collapsed onto his chest, her tiny body heaving.
He couldn't lift his arms anymore, but he wanted to hold her so badly.
He prayed again—not for himself. For her.
Let her sleep. Let her forget. Let this not be the moment that defines her.
Let her live long enough to be just a girl again.
The world faded around him.
And the last thing he heard before the darkness took him was her sob—quiet, small, and heartbreakingly human.
And the world that used to whisper her name like a prayer...
Now whispered it like a warning.