Chapter Six
The Death That Forged the Flame
The Frostwood had never known such silence.
Kael Riven and Mara pressed through the dense, snow-blanketed trees in grim silence. Their breath steamed in the cold air, boots crunching over crusted frost. Kael's hand never strayed far from the hilt of the sword his father had forged—a blade of dark iron, functional but plain, weighted more with memory than power.
A feeling tugged at his chest. A pressure in the air, ancient and heavy. It grew thicker with every step.
Mara touched his arm. "Kael. Do you feel that?"
He nodded. "Something's wrong."
They weren't alone.
A man stepped from the mist. Robes gray and soft, silver-white hair cascading over his shoulders, skin as pale as starlight. His bare feet touched the snow without a sound. He looked human—until he smiled.
And revealed his eyes.
Solid black. Void made flesh.
"Kael Riven," the man said. "You bear the mark of the Ashten. I am Velarion. General of the Sixth Veil."
Kael drew his sword, stepping in front of Mara.
Velarion chuckled.
Then his body cracked apart.
Flesh split. Smoke burst from the seams. From within, a monstrous form uncoiled: towering, bone-black skin etched with golden veins of fire. Six eyes opened along a stretched skull crowned by smoke-forged antlers. Limbs warped, twisted, and dragged claws like spears.
Then it lunged.
Kael barely deflected the first strike. The force launched him backward, crashing through a tree. He rolled to his feet, dazed. Mara circled wide, hurling a blade of light—but it sizzled uselessly against Velarion's hide.
They fought.
Minutes bled into hours.
Kael's muscles screamed. Cuts opened along his arms, ribs, thigh. He and Mara struck in tandem, again and again—distracting, parrying, flanking. But nothing worked. Velarion was too fast, too strong. Every wound they inflicted healed. Every tactic failed.
Mara was the first to stagger.
Kael moved to shield her. Velarion swatted him aside. Claws drove through Kael's chest.
He gasped.
Then—darkness.
He fell, bleeding out into the snow. His sword landed beside him, lifeless.
He heard Mara scream.
And through the haze of death, Kael saw her run. She fought valiantly. But Velarion caught her.
Kael, paralyzed, watched in horror as the monster devoured her. Piece by piece. Her screams turned to silence.
And then—
Everything stopped.
Kael's mind drifted. A memory.
He was a boy of five, sitting in the soft glow of morning light. His mother knelt beside him on a grassy hill outside their forge, brushing hair from his brow.
"You must be calm to see what hasn't happened yet," she whispered. "Breathe with me, Kael."
He did. She touched his chest.
"Aethra's Sight is more than vision. It's a bond. Of blood. You carry mine, and so you may share what I see. Someday, when it matters most."
The world shimmered.
Birdsong froze. A leaf caught mid-fall hung in the air.
Kael's breath caught.
His mother smiled. "That is the moment before the world decides. Now—learn to listen."
Years passed.
A teenager now, Kael sparred with his father in the forge's dusty courtyard. Sweat slicked his back, breath ragged, arms trembling.
His father barked, "Ashveil is not brute strength! Let the sword dance! Be the breath before the strike, not the strike itself!"
Kael grinned, pivoted, and met his father's blade with flowing precision.
Mara, never far, mimicked their moves with growing frustration.
His father laughed. "She's got spirit!"
Kael's mother approached Mara with a knowing smile.
"Your heart is different," she said. "Not less. Let me show you something else."
And so, Mara learned the Verdahlen Way. A dance of defense. Graceful. Protective.
Kael and Mara. Raised together. Bound by trust.
Back in the now, Kael's heart stopped.
The mark on his palm flared.
"Little heir" a voice echoed.
The sword beside him answered.
It lifted—warping, twisting. Iron peeled away. In its place: a blade elegant and terrible. Curved. Etched with scripture in forgotten tongues. Scribes unknown to even the gods. Gold and obsidian wove into its hilt. It pulsed like a heartbeat.
Kael's body shifted.
Muscle carved itself anew. Height stretched. Skin laced with glowing tattoos that burned with ancient runes. Half of his hair turned white, the other flared with red streaks like living fire.
His eyes opened.
Emotion less.
And the world held its breath.
Velarion turned, sensing change.
Kael moved.
Perfectly. Effortlessly.
Ashveil guided his blade. Aethra's Sight showed him every intention before it sparked.
Velarion struck. Kael countered. Again. Again.
The beast faltered.
Kael's sword sang. A single stroke. One pure line.
Velarion's head fell.
The body crumpled.
But the victory soured.
The sword dimmed. The mark faded. Kael dropped beside what was left of Mara.
"…I'm sorry," he whispered.
Her fingers twitched.
Her eyes opened.
One gold. One black.
Dark energy wrapped her. Velarion's essence fused with her flesh. Her body lifted, shadowflame crawling along her spine. Her voice cracked with duality.
"I'm still here, Kael… but he is too."
Far beyond, behind veils unseen, the most ancient darkness stirred.
Sealed by gods themselves, the being smiled.
"Well done, Velarion," it said. "You've given us a tether. A vessel. The Ashten bleeds now."
The Gods turned.
"Watch him closely," one whispered. "His fate has shifted."
Above the fractured Accord, Seren sat quiet.
Her voice soft. "Mara… brave and kind. You always protected him."
Nyren, beside her, said nothing for a long while.
Then: "She still might."
His fingers curled at his sides.
Seren closed her eyes. "Then we hold the flame until she finds it again."
Below them, Kael stood.
His blade pointed at Mara.
She floated, body twitching with conflicting energies. Her voice echoed with two souls.
Kael's hand trembled.
Seren whispered through the wind, "Do what is right, Kael."
Nyren added, voice calm, "If you must end it, let it be mercy."
Kael stepped forward.
He lowered the sword.
And embraced her.
"I'm not letting you go," he murmured. " You are all I have left"
Cradling her in his arms, Kael walked.
Through snow and silence, toward the path ahead.
Toward Seren and Nyren.
Toward war.
And the breaking Accord.
Continue to chapter VII...