Prologue:Part 2 – Betrayal in Blood

The firelight flickered across the steel as Kael’s father raised his sword, his voice taut with fury.

“You were my brother once, Veylan. You ate at my table. You swore to protect this village.”

The man’s faint smile didn’t waver. The crimson glow in his eyes deepened, unnatural, wrong.

“I swore many things,” Veylan said softly, almost kindly, as though he spoke of a forgotten promise. “But the world isn’t sustained by oaths. It’s sustained by power. And power demands sacrifice.”

Kael didn’t understand, but he felt the truth of it in his bones—the man standing before them wasn’t the friend he had known. He was something else. Something twisted.

Then, the sound split the air. Not words, but screams. Outside. A cacophony of shrieks and howls carried on the night wind. The smell of smoke bled through the wooden walls, choking, acrid.

Kael’s chest tightened. He knew that smell. Fire.

Father’s eyes narrowed. “You brought them here.”

Veylan tilted his head. “I only opened the way. The rest was inevitable. Beasts, soldiers, flames—it all burns the same in the end.”

Kael’s heart pounded as he clutched Lyra closer. Outside, chaos erupted—the crack of collapsing wood, the roar of beasts, the clash of steel as villagers screamed for their lives. His home, his world, was being torn apart.

Father stepped forward, blade raised, fury radiating from him like a storm. “If you want them—you’ll have to go through me.”

Veylan’s smile sharpened. “So be it.”

Steel rang against steel, sparks scattering across the floor. The two men clashed in the small room, their movements too fast for Kael’s eyes to follow. His father fought like a lion, every strike filled with desperate strength, every block shaking the wooden beams around them.

But Veylan was faster. Stronger. His blade moved like a serpent, always a step ahead, his crimson eyes reflecting the fire growing outside.

Kael’s breath caught in his throat as he watched, powerless, while Lyra buried her face against him, sobbing silently.

Then—Veylan spoke.

“Your strength is wasted, old friend. Why fight for ashes? Give me the boy. Give me the girl. They’ll live—under me.”

Father’s snarl was pure defiance. “Over my dead body.”

“Easily arranged.”

The strike came quick, a blur of steel and malice. Father staggered, blood blooming across his shoulder. He didn’t fall—he roared, shoving Veylan back, sword raised again with trembling hands.

“Kael!” his voice cracked like thunder. “Take your sister. Run!”

Kael froze. His legs refused to move. His arms locked around Lyra. Run? Leave Father? The thought tore at him like knives.

But his father’s eyes—sharp, commanding, desperate—left no room for argument.

“I said go!”

The weight of those words crashed into Kael. He forced his body into motion, dragging Lyra toward the back door, his heart hammering so loud he thought it might burst.

Behind him, steel clashed again. A roar. A scream. The sound of a body hitting wood.

And then—silence.

Kael dared to glance back. His father knelt on the floor, blood staining the boards beneath him, his sword shattered in his grip. Veylan stood above him, calm, blade slick with crimson.

“Father!” Kael’s cry ripped from his throat.

His father’s gaze found him, fierce even in defeat. “Protect her, Kael. Whatever happens—live.”

The door shattered inward. Not Veylan this time—beasts. Hulking, twisted shapes with eyes that gleamed in the firelight, claws dripping with blood. They surged into the house, snarling, their stench overwhelming.

Kael’s body moved without thought. He threw himself in front of Lyra, arms spread wide though he held no weapon. He was just a boy, trembling, powerless. But in that moment, his father’s words anchored him—carry the burden so others don’t have to.

One of the beasts lunged.

And then—light.

Not firelight. Something else. It erupted from the broken sword in his father’s hand, a desperate flare of power. The beasts recoiled, snarling, as if struck by unseen chains. Veylan hissed, stepping back into the shadows.

“You damn fool,” he muttered, eyes narrowing.

Kael’s father’s final act of defiance burned in the air, a shield of crackling force holding back the monsters for only a heartbeat. His gaze locked on Kael once more.

“Run.”

The shield shattered.

Kael grabbed Lyra’s hand and ran into the night. Behind them, their home burned, their father’s roar swallowed by flame and screams.

The village of Duskpine—everything they had ever known—was nothing but ashes.

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