Prologue – Part 5: Ashes and Oaths

The forest swallowed them whole.

Kael’s lungs burned as he pushed deeper, his legs threatening to buckle beneath Lyra’s weight. The trees loomed like giants, their branches twisting into grotesque claws that blocked the moonlight. Every step was heavier than the last, every breath shallow and ragged.

Lyra stirred weakly in his arms. Her voice was barely a whisper. “Kael… are we safe?”

Safe.

The word stabbed him like a knife. Nothing in this world felt safe anymore. Not the village, not the forest, not even the people they once trusted.

“Just a little farther,” he lied gently, his voice breaking. “We’ll find somewhere to rest.”

But even as he spoke, his vision blurred. His strength was running dry, the adrenaline fading and leaving only raw exhaustion. His father’s final command echoed in his mind—stay behind me—but Kael had run. He had no sword, no fire left to fight with, only his arms wrapped around his sister like a shield too thin to matter.

The night grew colder.

The silence heavier.

Kael stumbled, dropping to one knee. Lyra clung to his torn shirt, her tiny hands clutching as though letting go would mean losing him forever. He looked down at her—her face pale, streaked with tears and ash—and something in him hardened.

“I won’t let it end here,” he whispered, more to himself than to her. “I’ll crawl if I have to.”

But his body betrayed him. His vision swam, the world tilting. He staggered forward one last step before his knees gave out. Lyra cried out softly as they fell, Kael twisting his body so she landed safely against his chest.

The boy lay there, gasping, clutching her tight as darkness closed in.

Is this it?

Would their story end here, not with vengeance or triumph, but in silence beneath an uncaring sky?

“Pathetic,” a voice rasped from the shadows.

Kael’s eyes fluttered open, struggling to focus. A silhouette approached through the gloom, a tall figure cloaked in tattered robes, staff in hand. His presence radiated a strange gravity—neither beast nor man, neither savior nor foe.

The stranger crouched beside them, his gaze hidden beneath a hood. “Still breathing, are you? Hmph. Fragile things, yet stubborn. I suppose that counts for something.”

Kael forced his tongue to move, though every word scraped his throat raw. “P… please. My sister…”

The cloaked figure’s attention shifted to Lyra. His hand hovered over her chest, faint blue light flickering from his palm. After a moment, he nodded. “Alive. For now. Fortune favors fools.”

Kael’s heart jolted. “Help her. Please.”

The stranger tilted his head. “And what will you give me in return, boy? Nothing is free—not in this world, not in mine.”

Kael’s teeth clenched. Even in despair, even on the edge of collapse, rage burned in his chest. “I’ll give you my life. I don’t care what happens to me. Just… save her.”

For a moment, silence stretched between them. Then, the stranger chuckled—low, dry, almost mocking. “A boy with nothing, offering everything. Curious.”

He leaned closer, voice dropping to a whisper Kael would never forget.

“Very well. I’ll spare the girl. But you… you’ll carry the weight of tonight for the rest of your days. It will break you, or it will forge you. That choice, boy, is yours.”

The blue light flared, wrapping Lyra in a soft glow. Her breathing steadied, her trembling eased. Relief flooded Kael so hard he nearly wept.

The stranger rose, staff tapping against the earth. “Rest now, Kael of the ashes. The path ahead is cruel, and mercy will be scarce. But remember this night. Burn it into your soul. Because when the day comes, and you seek your vengeance…”

He turned, his voice echoing through the trees.

“…you’ll find me waiting.”

Darkness closed in fully this time, dragging Kael under. His last memory was the weight of his sister’s small hand still clutched in his shirt, and the vow he swore in the silence of his heart.

I will protect her. I will avenge them. No matter the cost.

The forest whispered around them, carrying smoke and sorrow on the wind.

And thus began the tale of Kael—the boy who crawled from the ashes of yesterday.

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