They left the moors by morning.
The air beyond the Harthmoor was sharp, crisp—like the world itself had been holding its breath for something. And that something now stirred.
Kael walked slightly ahead, cloak brushing the damp leaves. Since the wraith encounter, something in him had shifted. His staff no longer felt foreign—it pulsed lightly at his side, as if resonating with his breath. He hadn't spoken much since the night Arinya had received the message.
He kept seeing her face in that firelight—so steady, but the edges fraying.
Doran followed beside her, ever watchful. He didn't say much either, though every glance he shot toward Kael was shorter, sharper.
"Did you get any sleep?" Kael asked Arinya without turning.
"A little," she replied.
She hadn't.
They crested a ridge by midday, and the view below stole the breath from Kael's lungs.
Arinya pointed with a gloved hand. "Vaereth's Veil. That's where the siege began."
Below them, nestled between twin cliffs, stood a proud city of spires and water-channels—Vaelreth's sister city. Or what remained of it.
Columns of smoke rose lazily from the outer wards, like fingers reaching to the sky for help. Faint war drums echoed up the hills like distant thunder.
"We're too late…" Doran muttered.
"No," Arinya said. "The inner ring still holds."
"Then we break through," Kael said.
"You make it sound easy," Doran snapped.
Kael didn't answer. His mind was elsewhere—burning with fragments from his vision. Fire, betrayal, a woman's voice screaming his name. Not Arinya's. Someone else. Another life. Another war.
But why did it feel like it was all happening again?
They approached the city under the cover of evening. It had taken them hours to cross the winding forest paths, and by the time they reached the outer perimeter, the scent of battle hung thick in the air—metal, ash, and blood.
Scouts greeted Arinya first.
"Captain Arinya!" one said, saluting. "You're alive!"
Doran stiffened.
Kael raised a brow. Captain?
Arinya didn't look at him as she answered the scout. "We need to speak to your commander immediately. Kael—"
"I heard," Kael said quietly.
She flinched at his tone.
As they entered the war camp nestled in the trees, Kael glanced around. Soldiers moved in tired lines, sharpening blades, tending wounds, or simply staring off into space. The air was heavy. These people were bracing for something—the end, maybe.
Arinya turned to Kael finally. "I meant to tell you sooner."
He didn't respond.
Inside the command tent, a grim-faced general reviewed maps, his voice rough with exhaustion. "We've held them off for two days. But if the Ashseekers breach the final gate, we won't survive another."
Kael stepped forward. "Let me go."
Doran scoffed. "What, you're going to take them all yourself?"
Kael turned his head toward him, unblinking. "If I must."
The tent went quiet.
Arinya stepped between them. "He's not joking."
The general's brows drew together. "And who is he, exactly?"
Arinya hesitated.
"A... traveler," she said. "But one the Ashseekers are looking for."
That wasn't a lie. Not quite.
The general studied Kael with new eyes. "Then you're either a blessing or a curse."
"Both," Kael said simply.
That night, the trio sat around the campfire, eating quietly. Doran stared into the flames while Arinya fiddled with her gloves.
Kael's voice broke the silence.
"You never told me you were a captain."
Arinya sighed. "It wasn't important at the time."
Kael turned slightly toward her. "It is now."
She met his gaze. "I didn't think you trusted me."
"I don't."
She blinked.
"But I'm starting to wonder if I want to."
The flicker of a smile reached her lips before she buried it.
Doran stood abruptly. "I'll patrol the perimeter."
"Stay safe," Arinya said automatically.
He paused—long enough for Kael to notice.
As Doran walked into the night, Kael said, "He loves you."
Arinya looked away. "I know."
"You love him?"
She didn't answer.
Hours passed. Kael couldn't sleep.
The whispers had returned.
He sat outside the camp, staff in hand, listening.
"You will be betrayed," the relic whispered in his mind. "The one with violet eyes will break your heart."
He gripped the staff tighter. "I don't believe you."
"You will."
He felt her presence before she spoke.
"Kael," Arinya said quietly.
"You can't sleep either?"
"No."
She walked over and sat beside him.
"The relic," he said. "It speaks in riddles."
"Does it ever say the truth?"
"Sometimes it lies in half-truths. Just enough to make me doubt everything."
He turned toward her.
"Are you going to betray me?"
Her breath caught. "Is that what it said?"
"I want to hear it from you."
She hesitated. "I don't know yet."
Kael looked at her, and for the first time, she saw it—the sadness in his eyes. The storm behind his stillness.
"Then tell me this," he said. "If it came down to your people or me… who would you choose?"
"I don't know," she whispered.
He nodded. "That's enough."
Elsewhere in Camp
Doran leaned against a tree, listening.
He had followed them. Just far enough to hear.
And something in him broke.
He clenched his fists.
He's changing her, he thought.
I won't let him.