"How much do you know… about your family?"
The answer should have been simple. But Kael paused.
He bristled. "Are you implying I don't know anything about them? About my father, my mother, my sister?" His voice rose. "Maybe you've gone senile in your old age, asking something that stupid."
Oren's expression didn't change. "Perhaps age has made me senile," he said calmly. "But entertain an old man. Who was your father, and what did he do?"
Kael exhaled sharply. "Kaelum Rohar. A merchant he dealt in rare metals. Procurement, mostly. He traveled a lot for business. Happy now?"
Oren nodded, unbothered. "Quite. And your mother?"
Kael rolled his eyes. "Anira Rohar. She was a housewife. You want her favorite color too? Maybe my sister's favorite candy? , or her shoe size."
Oren simply waited.
The question still stung. It wasn't curiosity, it was insult. It suggested Kael didn't know his own blood. That everything he held sacred might be... hollow.
But he remembered his mother's smile. The warmth of her hand in his as they walked the markets. How she sang lullabies, soft, off-key, and perfect. Her hugs after chores, her quiet pride.
He remembered his father's stories, always returning from faraway places, tired but smiling. Sitting beside their mother, telling tales as they listened in wide-eyed wonder.
His sister…
His throat tightened.
"She was only eleven," he muttered.
"Hmmm," Oren said, noncommittally. "And what of your grandparents?"
Kael's eyes flashed. "Both my parents were orphans," he snapped. "Like me now. Satisfied?"
Oren's expression shifted, just a flicker. Sadness, maybe. Or guilt. "Forgive me. I was wrong. Perhaps you do know something about your family."
Kael's restraint shattered. He stepped forward and swung a fist.
Oren moved like water, stepping aside at the last moment, letting Kael stumble forward, off-balance. The old man didn't even blink.
"Ah," Oren said with a faint grin. "The young truly have no manners. Striking at a frail old man."
Kael straightened, jaw clenched. His fists trembled, but his voice was steady. "I apologize. My actions were unjustified. I don't get to hit people just because they piss me off."
Oren beamed. "That should be obvious."
A long silence followed. The wind stirred the branches overhead.
Then Oren asked, almost casually, "And now? Will you run off, vengeful, bleeding, chasing ghosts?"
Kael looked down. "No. I'm not strong enough. I couldn't even land a punch on a senile old man. What makes me think I can take on monsters?" He raised his marked hand. "If I knew how to use this thing, maybe. But I don't. So right now, I can't do anything."
His voice broke.
"But my sister deserves better. She deserves a proper burial. I need to find her body."
Oren tilted his head, thoughtful. "Can't even hit a senile old man… Should I be offended or proud?" He grinned. "Offended that you call me senile and old, or flattered you think I'm still spry enough to dodge a young bull like you?"
Kael sighed. "Sarcasm? Really?"
Oren's smile faded. Something softer, almost paternal, flickered in his gaze. "Follow me, Kael."
They walked past the tree at the heart of the grove. The moon followed them, pale and unblinking.
Eventually, Oren stopped before a low mound of earth. A simple tombstone stood at its head, blank, untouched by chisel or time.
Kael blinked. "What is this place?"
Oren looked at him, eyes heavy. "This… is where your sister rests."
Kael knelt, fingers curling in the dirt. "No name?" he whispered. "Nothing?"
"She was buried in silence," Oren said. "But silence cannot be the end."
Kael stood slowly. "She has a name. She deserves more than an unmarked grave. Something more than this. She deserves better than to vanish."
"Then give it to her," Oren said. He motioned toward the tree behind the grave. "Use your finger. Write her name on the bark."
Kael hesitated, then approached. He pressed his fingertip to the rough surface.
He began to write.
L O R E L
As Kael's finger carved each letter into the bark, a crimson glow bloomed beneath his touch, faint at first, then spreading like veins of molten light. With the final stroke, the tree shuddered.
A ripple passed through its trunk, and suddenly, the bark around Lorel's name began to stir. Other names emerged, faint, ancient, layered beneath time itself. Dozens. Hundreds. Each one glowing softly in the same red light, like the voices of the forgotten whispering from the wood.
Kael stepped back, breath caught.
Behind him, the tombstone trembled.
A low hum stirred the air, felt more than heard, and the smooth stone rippled, as if a breeze passed over water. Then, slowly, words etched themselves into the surface, glowing with the same crimson hue:
Lorel
Here lies a loving sister to her unworthy brother, who sacrificed her life to protect him.
Kael's breath caught in his throat. His eyes burned.
Only muffled words came out "I will make them pay, every last one of them will choke on their blood"
"And beneath the quiet of the trees," Oren said softly, "under the watchful eye of the moon, the grave of a girl who once laughed like sunlight bears witness to a promise neither man nor time should erase."
Kael dropped to his knees. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry, Lorel…"
For a long moment, there was only wind.
Then Oren said, "Stay."
Kael looked up.
"Stay here. Train. For three years."
Kael stood, voice hoarse. "Why three years?"
"Because that's how long it will take to break you apart and remake you into something worthy of that vow.. And when those three years are up…" Oren smiled faintly. "I'll give you a gift."
"A gift?"
"We already are in possession of it," Oren said cryptically. "But you'll only see it when you're ready."
Kael glanced down at his marked hand.
"You mean?"
Oren smiled "No, it not a gift from us, you have claimed it all by yourself"
"You'll understand in time."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "And if I refuse?"
Oren shrugged. "You won't. Not anymore."
Kael wanted to argue. But the fire in his chest, the pain, the rage, the guilt, had nowhere to go. Training wasn't just a choice. It was the only way to deliver his promise
He looked back at Lorel's grave, then nodded once.
"I'll stay."
"Good," Oren said. "Then let me tell you something before we begin."
He turned toward the forest, eyes narrowing.
"There's a reason your stigmata found you now.."
Kael followed his gaze. The air felt… different. Still, but alert. Like something was watching.
"Why?" he asked.
Oren's voice dropped to a hush. "Because the ones who erased it from history… just realized they failed."