The rain came down in sheets.
Aelric pulled his cloak tighter as they followed the broken road through the Ashfall Valley, where thunder cracked above and the hills wept with fog. For hours they'd passed no travelers—only silence and scorched earth.
Once, this land had belonged to the Kingdom of Darrath. Now it was ruins.
"Too quiet," Lyria said, brushing wet hair from her eyes.
"Dead lands usually are," Aelric muttered.
She shook her head. "Not dead. Watching."
---
A distant sound made them both halt.
Steel.
Clashing.
Echoing off the wet stones.
They crept over a ridge—and saw them.
Three bandits. One armored figure.
The man stood in the center of a collapsed shrine, blade in hand, cloak torn and faded. His armor bore no crest, but it shone even beneath the mud.
Aelric drew his sword.
"Should we help?"
Lyria shrugged. "He doesn't look like he needs it."
And he didn't.
The man moved like a storm wrapped in discipline. Every strike was measured. Every parry exact. The bandits fell like wheat.
When the last man hit the ground, the stranger turned.
His eyes were gray and tired—but sharp as ever.
And they locked on Aelric.
---
"You carry his blade."
Aelric hesitated. "Who are you?"
The man stepped forward, wiping his sword.
"I am Sir Caelum Drevan," he said. "Once of the Order of the Silver Flame. Once knight to Kaelen Vaelion."
---
They shared a fire that night beneath the broken altar of the shrine. Caelum's armor steamed gently from the rain, and though his body bore age and scars, he held himself like a blade kept sharp by purpose.
"I was with your father when he was betrayed," Caelum said quietly. "We rode into the Ironwood Rebellion with twenty thousand. Only a few of us returned. Your father… didn't."
Aelric stared into the flames.
"What happened?"
Caelum exhaled.
"They feared him. Not because he was cruel—but because he cared. He didn't serve the Empire. He served the people."
Lyria glanced at Aelric. "Sounds familiar."
Caelum looked directly at the boy.
"You carry the blade, but more importantly—you carry the choice. Will you become what they fear again… or what they've forgotten?"
---
> [System Notification: Honor Bond Formed – Caelum Drevan]
"You have met a legacy-bound warrior. Relationship Level: Neutral."
Aelric smiled.
"I don't plan to die before I find out."
---
The next morning, Caelum packed his things.
"I travel east. There's a rebellion forming near the Korrin Pass. Farmers, broken soldiers, mages in exile. If they rise… the world will take notice."
Aelric considered it. "Then we'll head the same way."
"You mean to join them?" Caelum asked.
"No," Aelric said. "I mean to lead them—if they'll follow."
Caelum gave him a long look, then nodded.
"Then I'll follow you. For now."
---
As they rode eastward, the clouds parted just enough to reveal the sun.
It felt like something was beginning.
And far away, in a cold chamber beneath the Imperial Citadel, the High Arcanist placed a crimson marker on a map.
> "He's gathering knights. Rebels. Ghosts.
Then let's give him a war worthy of a Vaelion."