Haunted by fragmented dreams and unspoken memories, Kai felt a restless pull deep within him—a whisper from a past he could not fully grasp but that burned beneath his skin like smoldering embers. Desperate for answers and refuge, he journeyed toward the heart of the Verdant Region, a sprawling expanse of ancient forests and sacred groves. It was here, among the towering trees and shimmering leaves, that the old magic still breathed—old enough to remember kings, rebellions, and the blood spilled in their shadows.
Kai moved cautiously through the moss-covered paths, the forest seeming to watch him with silent vigilance. At the center of this emerald domain stood a throne carved from living wood and adorned with twisting vines—a seat not just of power, but of deep connection to the land itself. There, waiting with a quiet grace and commanding presence, was Lady Faela, the queen of the Verdant Pact and a forestborn mystic whose beauty was as striking as it was unsettling. Her skin resembled aged bark, patterned with glowing runes and sigils that shimmered faintly in the dappled light filtering through the canopy. Her eyes—vivid green, ancient and piercing—locked onto Kai the moment he entered the clearing.
"You look just like him," Faela said softly, her voice carrying both reverence and sorrow. "But your eyes… your eyes are softer. For now."
The weight of her gaze unsettled Kai. He knew that "him" was no ordinary man. "Who do you mean?" he asked cautiously, though a sinking feeling rooted itself deeper in his chest.
Faela's expression twisted with memories best left unspoken. "Centuries ago, you ruled Amaranth as the Tyrant King—a being of flame and iron will who carved peace from chaos through terror and bloodshed. You were feared and hated. The very ground beneath your throne burned with the ashes of rebellion." She paused, studying his face as if searching for a spark buried beneath the boy's confusion. "I stood by your side once—as your ally, your confidante. Perhaps… more than that, though those days have long passed." Her voice cracked, barely containing a pain that time had not healed.
Kai shook his head, disbelief flooding him. "That can't be me. I'm not that person."
Faela reached out, placing a hand etched with glowing runes over his heart. "It is. And it isn't. The man you were died in flames and betrayal, but the fire that was him never truly faded."
She told him what few dared whisper: the Tyrant King's fall was not just due to mortal rebellion, but orchestrated by shadowy forces beyond Amaranth's borders—the Custodians. These mysterious watchers used humans as pawns, sleeper agents embedded in the world to keep balance, or so they claimed. It was one of Kai's most trusted generals who betrayed him from within, delivering a mortal blow that shattered his soul across the dimensions—locking away his memories and his true power.
That betrayal had cost the king everything: his throne, his followers, and the very essence of himself. Yet, Kai's soul remained scattered, pulled between worlds, a beacon for forces he barely understood.
Faela's eyes softened with a mix of pity and resolve. "That memory is locked deep inside you, hidden away so even you cannot reach it—yet."
Kai clenched his fists, fighting the rush of doubt and fear swirling inside him. The line between who he was and who he might become blurred more with every revelation. The truth was a double-edged flame—one that promised power but threatened to consume him whole.
In the silence that followed, Kai realised his journey was only beginning. The ghosts of ashes past were not just memories—they were warnings. To survive, to reclaim himself, he would have to face the shattered pieces of his soul—and the shadows that waited in the Rift between worlds