The cold wind cut across the hill like a blade, sweeping through the ruins of what was once the mighty Eryndor Palace. Broken stones, toppled pillars, and tattered tapestries told the tale of a downfall that echoed like a sorrowful whisper through the silent field.
[Kael's Perspective]
Kael Eryndor stood at the center of the shattered hall, where his father once gathered knights and nobles to plan wars and treaties. Now, only dust and memory remained. His hair, black as vantablack, fluttered in the breeze, and his eyes—intense and blue like the clear summer sky—scanned the rubble. Each step over the debris awakened a distant echo within him, as if his soul resonated with this place.
The pain in his chest wasn't just from memory—it was real, a pressure pulsing from his core. The seal of the draconic runes burned silently beneath his skin, hidden by simple clothes, but Kael felt the power there, dormant. He had slept for three years, but now his body felt stronger, his mind sharper, as if fragments of the hero from the Great War whispered forgotten truths in his dreams.
The memory of the sigils still sent chills down his spine. That language... not human, not elven, not demonic. It was older—ancient. The glowing letters etched into the air were indecipherable to anyone else. Yet he had read them. And that changed everything.
[Lyara's Perspective]
From the entrance to the old library, Lyara watched her brother in silence. There was something about him she couldn't understand. Before the coma, Kael was fragile, constantly sick, a boy without talent. But now... there was firmness in his stride, weight in his gaze. She felt both hopeful and afraid. She knew he was no longer the same—and maybe that was a good thing.
With their parents gone, it had fallen to her to protect Elene, to keep the Eryndor name alive, to fend off the jackals from other houses who sought to erase what remained. She had learned politics, finances, and even how to mask humiliation when servants from rival houses treated her family like dirt. She had survived the destruction, and now she saw in Kael a light in the darkness.
But that light could be a guiding flame—or a blaze that would burn everything down.
[Elene's Perspective]
Elene held a small wooden stick in her hands, playing with leaves in the ruined garden while spirits danced around her. Only she could see them, only she could hear them. Spirits of earth, air, and water—tiny fragments of nature that still believed in the Eryndors.
"He's back," one of them whispered, curling around her leg like an invisible cat.
"But he's not the same," murmured another.
Elene smiled. She had always known Kael was special. Since he had fallen asleep, the spirits had shared secrets with her—about dragons slumbering beneath mountains, about the world tree guarded by elves, about the darkness still whispering among the sealed demons. She didn't understand everything, but she knew her brother was tied to something greater.
[Kael's Perspective]
"This place cannot remain in ruins," Kael said, finally breaking the silence.
Lyara stepped closer, slowly. "And what do you plan to do? We still have the title, but nothing else."
Kael turned to her, his gaze unwavering. "The title is more than they wanted us to keep. The mark of Eryndor still lives. If the past was buried, we'll dig it up. If the traitors thought they destroyed us, then they'll know the mistake they made."
"You sound like father..." Lyara murmured.
"I'm not him. But I inherited his will. And... much more."
Kael closed his eyes and focused. In his core, he felt the mana rings begin to turn, like ancient gears coming back to life. And with them, stars flared in his aura—violent, pure. A magical knight. Something that shouldn't be possible. Something that could kill him if he failed.
But he wouldn't fail.
[Elene's Perspective]
The spirits sang. It was a soft, sad melody, like a funeral song for lost glory. Elene walked slowly toward her siblings, her wide, bright eyes reflecting the fragments of hope only a child could carry.
"Kael... the wind has changed."
He knelt and smiled at his younger sister. "Change always begins with a breeze."
Lyara, despite herself, felt a lump form in her throat. The flame had been lit.
[Kael's Perspective]
At night, Kael returned to the main hall. He sat before the family crest—cracked and fallen to the floor. He lit a small fire and pulled from his pocket a scroll—one of the few relics recovered from the library. It was an ancient manual on aura control and magic fusion. The practice was considered insane, even forbidden.
But to him, it was only the beginning.
"If the world has forgotten the Eryndors... then I will be the mark that makes them remember."