Now that the basta—the man was gone, Kael leaned back against the stone wall, exhaling slowly. The silence was heavier now, filled with questions he couldn't answer. His body still ached with a dull, pervasive throb, a ghost of the screaming agony that had consumed him moments ago. He touched his face, finding several deep, raw claw marks scored across his cheeks and forehead, a stark reminder of the unseen torment.
He tried to recall the visions.
Most of them were blurry. Not forgotten, just... scrubbed. They were no longer full images but scattered fragments, like the afterimage of a dream half-swallowed by waking. The spiral of golden blood, the crown cracked in two, the altar of bone and melted coin,it was all there, but distant, like looking at someone else's memories through frosted glass. His head throbbed. He rubbed his temples, half expecting to feel something writhing beneath his skin again. Nothing.Just dull pain.
The fracture in the sky… he knew. Instinctively. With a cold certainty that coiled deep in his gut. That was the Eye of Unmaking.
And all the other things,the screaming bell, the man with golden blood, the chained woman, the circle of seven figures,they weren't just hallucinations. They were somehow connected. Interwoven.
But how?
His gaze drifted to the ceiling. Pale-blue light from the lantern above continued to flicker softly, casting long shadows across the walls. The stone chamber was still, but not peaceful. The silence felt... artificial.
His thoughts twisted into more questions. Too many.
Who were the seven? What were they? They had no faces, no forms that made sense. They stood on geometry that couldn't exist. Some of them radiated light, others seemed made from concepts alone. Yet one had turned toward him.
He hadn't just looked at them. One of them looked back.
That wasn't how visions worked. He knew that.
Visions were supposed to be passive, like dreams. You watched them. They didn't watch you back.
He clenched his jaw. His body still ached faintly. Not the screaming pain from earlier, but a ghost of it. A low hum of fatigue beneath his skin.
He stood up slowly, testing his weight. His limbs held. That was good enough.
He paced the room, footsteps echoing faintly against polished stone. His boots made soft contact with the floor, but every step sounded too loud.
There was a mirror in one corner. Not glass, but a polished slab of black stone, just reflective enough to show his face. He walked over to it and stared.
He barely recognized himself.
His left eye was pale, almost white from strain. The other still gone. A faint bruise marred the side of his jaw. And his expression… he looked more tired than he ever had before. Even in the worst parts of the war.
He didn't like what he saw.
With a frustrated grunt, Kael punched the mirror.
It didn't break.
The impact sent a jolt through his wrist, and he winced, shaking his hand out. The pain was real, at least. That was grounding.
He slumped down against the wall beside the mirror, one leg stretched out, the other bent beneath him.
The air in the chamber was cool. Stale, but not unpleasant. Somewhere above, water dripped, echoing at a steady rhythm.
What did the chained woman mean?
"Tell her… we forgive her," she had said.
Who was "her"?
And why did it matter?
But the one thought that stayed longer than the others—
Ash. Her voice. Her eyes.
Her hands had saved him. Again. Even after everything.
"Why?" he muttered aloud.
The only answer was the faint drip of water echoing in the corners of the chamber.
What did it even mean anymore?
The more he thought about it, the more his headache grew, a dull throb escalating into a punishing drumbeat against his skull. There were so many questions, and no answers.
He stared at the stone ceiling, its glowing symbols pulsing in slow rhythm.
****
Kael rested for a while. He did not sleep. He did not trust this place enough for that. But Just enough to let his body catch up with the torment it had endured.
The chamber remained unchanged, its silence stubborn. The lantern's glow had not dimmed, nor had the scent of old incense faded. Time felt uncertain here.
Lying there, Kael found himself thinking more clearly. The pain, though constant, had dulled into the background. Now, what remained was the need to act.
A quiet plan began to form, born less from courage and more from survival instinct.
First: get the hell out of this place.
He did not know what kind of people ran this place, or what their interest in him truly was. They had not hurt him yet, but that meant little. He did not like being watched, and he definitely did not like being chained. That man had spoken in half-truths and riddles, and Kael had no patience for games. Especially now.
He stretched, cracking his neck as he pushed himself up to sit properly. His hand brushed against his forearm, and paused.
The mark.
Kael's eyes narrowed.
Something had changed.
The mark on his right hand was still faint. Just an outline now, not the volatile, angry brand it had been before. But now there were new lines running through it. Symbols. Small engravings, carved into the shape of the old spiral, subtle enough to miss without paying attention.
'H-How is that possible?'
The crest had changed.He blinked, stared harder. Was he imagining it? No,the lines were undeniably different, delicate and deliberate.
It was common knowledge that only those burdened to walk the Path of Ascension bore such a mark. Dormants weren't supposed to have a crest at all. Kael had been a rare exception,Ash had forced the mark upon him. But now… it had shifted, evolved.
So why had it evolved? Was he special somehow?
Kael immediately dismissed the thought.
'What a foolish thought.' He scoffed inwardly. He'd barely survived this long,and only because others had helped him. There was nothing special about that.
Then what?
Could it be something tied to the Hollow Crown?
More questions without answers, he thought bitterly."I could've asked that hooded bastard," Kael scoffed in indignation. "But knowing him, he'd dodge the question or answer in damn riddles."
'I should examine it myself. What if it wasn't a gift at all? What if it was a curse?'.No one really knew what happened inside these forgotten reliquaries.
Anyway… let's see what it does.'
The mark was already etched into his soul,there was no undoing it.
Well, if there was… it would probably kill him.
He gazed at the crest,
"Curious," Kael muttered under his breath.
He focused, narrowing his gaze on the mark. It responded, not with light or heat, but with sensation. A strange tug, like something inside him aligning for the first time.
A whisper of understanding brushed the edge of his thoughts. Something instinctual.
Kael exhaled slowly, letting the sensation grow clearer. It was not power. Not exactly. But it was knowledge. Somehow, the mark had shifted. Changed. Awakened, in part.Fragments of information filtered into his mind. Not from the outside, but from the mark itself.
He blinked, leaning back against the wall.
"I can… remember?" he whispered.
That was not right. Not just remember. See what had been.
After some experimenting he found out that when he touched something,stone, metal, even cloth,he could now catch glimpses of its past. Flashes of memory. Impressions.
A passive ability, perhaps. One not designed for battle, but for understanding.
Kael raised his hand and pressed his fingers against the wall beside him. At first, nothing happened.
Then faint images bloomed in his mind.
Figures, robed and hunched. They were carving symbols into the walls, their movements deliberate and reverent. The lantern above was younger then, its light brighter. The room had no chain marks. No scent of blood or pain.
Kael gasped and pulled his hand away.
The vision vanished immediately.
He rubbed his temples, trying to make sense of it. The headache did not return this time. Instead, the knowledge settled into him, as though his mind had accepted the input like a puzzle piece clicking into place.
He could memorize now. Not just see, but retain what he touched and learned.
It was subtle. But it was real.
"…I'll take subtle," he muttered.
He leaned forward again, hand flexing, his fingers tingling faintly from the contact. He could sense limits. His ability was not endless. It required focus, and the depth of what he saw depended on the object's age, and how strongly it had been tied to emotion or memory.At the moment, Kael could only reach back upto a week,no further..
Still. It was more than he had yesterday. More than most.
He let out a breath, steadying himself.That was enough for now.Eventually, the door creaked again.
The man returned.Same robes. Same irritating calm.
Kael did not look at him at first. He remained seated by the wall, his back straightened, gaze fixed on the mark that now pulsed faintly on his right arm.
"You came back," he muttered.
"Of course."
Kael turned his head slowly, eyes narrowing.
"I'm not taking your relic," he said flatly. "Not yet."
The man nodded once, unsurprised.
"I didn't think you would. You're cautious. That's good. The relic won't vanish. It waits."
Kael scoffed. "What is that supposed to mean? It waits? You all speak like you're trying to sound important."
The man's lips curved, not quite into a smile. "We say what is necessary. Sometimes words are dressed to survive."
Kael stared at him, unimpressed.
"If I could, I'd punch you," he muttered.
"If you did, you'd probably break your hand," the man replied evenly. "But I'd admire the effort."
Kael stood, testing his balance. His body was sore but functional. The headache had dulled into a manageable pressure behind his eyes.
"I'm leaving," he said. "Now."
The man didn't argue.
"There is a stairwell past that door. It will take you to the outer chamber. From there, the northern exit leads to the main path. You'll know it when you see it."
Kael nodded, brushing the dust from his clothes. His coat was still torn, bloodied in places, but wearable. He gave the chamber one last glance. The flickering lantern. The symbols. The box with the relic, still sitting exactly where it had been.
"You said I was seen," Kael said, pausing at the door. "That something was watching me."
"Yes," the man replied.
"Then if it comes again… I'll be ready."
The man gave a slight bow. "May your burden remain yours."
Kael grimaced and stepped through the doorway, boots heavy against the stone, and didn't look back.