Equito turned her head briefly, glancing toward the doorway where the younger priests were arranging ritual vessels. The chanting filled the room, monotonous and measured, giving her a momentary sense of detachment from the body before her. Her armor scraped softly as she shifted her weight.
When she turned her gaze back, a sudden, sharp movement made her freeze.
One of the priests nearest to the platform had recoiled, eyes wide, hands trembling. His voice broke into a strangled gasp. "No, no, this cannot be…"
Equito's heart skipped. She leaned forward. The chest beneath the fabric, once flat and unmoving, was rising. Slowly at first, a subtle swell beneath the wound where the halberd had gone through. The skin stretched as if sewn by some invisible hand, knitting itself together.
Her gloves itched, but she remained motionless, unable to speak. Her mind tried to reconcile what she was seeing with what she had carried here, what she had sworn was dead.
The priest's whisper became frantic. "He… he is healing."
Equito's pulse throbbed in her temples. She forced herself to focus, to keep her hands where they were, restrained by duty. The body beneath her hands moved with an unnatural grace, the torn flesh closing, the wound sealing with an eerie completeness.
Then, faintly, almost impossibly, came a sound.
A cough.
It was hoarse, wet, and deep, reverberating through the sanctum. Every torch flickered, casting shadows that danced across the stone walls.
The guard at the far side of the room gasped. His face went pale. He sprinted toward the doors. "The king! The king must know!"
Equito's eyes followed him, dread pooling in her stomach. The sound of running boots echoed through the chamber. The other priests were frozen in shock, muttering prayers they no longer seemed to believe.
Kael's chest rose and fell again, steadily now. The warmth she had felt faintly before was no longer subtle. His fingers twitched, curling slightly against the edge of the platform. His eyelids fluttered, but did not fully open.
Equito's mouth went dry. She could not look away, and yet she knew she should. This was no longer a body to prepare for ritual. This was something alive. Something impossible.
The guard reached the inner doors of the sanctum. His shouts echoed back: "Your Majesty! He's alive! Kael… Your son, he's alive!"
The sound cut through the steady hum of the sanctuary, reverberating against every stone wall. Equito's hands went to the edge of the platform, bracing herself. Her breathing was ragged, but she did not move closer. She could not yet.
The priests were whispering frantic prayers. One even dropped a censer, the incense spilling across the floor. Smoke curled and coiled unnaturally, reacting to the energy now radiating from Kael.
His chest rose again, stronger this time. The cough had left a wet rasp in the air. The sound of life in what should have been a corpse struck the sanctum like thunder.
Equito's eyes were fixed on the form before her, helpless, knowing that the moment the king entered, the entire court would confront something far beyond mortal understanding.
Kael's hands flexed fully now, small but deliberate movements. His eyes twitched beneath the lids. The silence was no longer hers to command. The world had shifted, and she was trapped in it, watching the impossible unfold.
The guard had already left, running at a sprint to summon the king. Equito's shoulders tensed. There was no turning back. Whatever Kael had become, the kingdom was about to discover it.
And she would be there to witness it.