Kael fell to his knees.
His entire body throbbed—muscles on fire, breath ragged, the metallic taste of blood still in his mouth. The silence of the surrounding forest was almost suffocating, as if the world itself were holding its breath.
He thrust his sword into the ground to keep himself upright. The golden metal—or what felt like metal—pulsed beneath his fingers, emitting a faint glow that breathed as if it were... alive.
For a moment, he thought he was delirious.
But then he heard it.
A whisper.
Low, husky, ancient.
It didn't come from the wind, or the forest.
It came from the sword.
Distorted words, in a language he didn't know, but somehow...understood.
"Awaken... Blood of light... tear the veil..."
Kael gritted his teeth and yanked the blade from the ground, the metallic sound echoing like a muffled scream.
"Shut up." he growled, staring at the glow spreading across the blade.
The answer was a softer whisper, almost... mocking.
"To deny... is to accept..."
