The mountain path was steep and half-swallowed by mist. Even with mana-light guiding her steps, Lia stumbled twice—her cloak catching on roots, boots slipping in moss. Every breath she took was a knife in her lungs.
But she couldn't stop.
Not with Kael in chains.
Not when she knew where this path led.
Up ahead, through the veil of fog, rose the silhouette of a broken tower—its spire cracked, its walls scarred by time and battle. Wild magic clung to the air, shimmering faintly in the corners of vision, as if the forest itself knew to keep a distance.
Lia pressed her hand to the seal-stone set into the gate.
It hissed. Then clicked.
The door swung open, revealing darkness thick enough to choke on.
She stepped in anyway.
The air inside the ruined tower was cold and still. Dust hung unmoving in the air, disturbed only by her lightstep.
Then—
"I wondered how long you'd stay quiet," came a voice.
Lia froze.
From the shadows, a woman emerged. Her face was sharp—cheekbones like carved marble, hair silver like Lia's but unbraided and wild, falling over a scarred shoulder.
Her eyes… they burned with Myth-tier radiance.
"Hello, sister," Lia said, her voice steady.
"Lia." The woman folded her arms. "I told you never to come here."
"I need your help."
The woman's smile was humorless. "They all do, eventually."
Lia stepped forward. "His name is Kael. He's not like the others. He—"
"He's a Learner," the woman interrupted. "I know. I've heard. The royal court's already spinning stories. Assassination. Treason. They're preparing a public execution."
Lia's breath caught. "No."
"They want to make an example. Of course they do. A common-born student who beat a Talent? They'd sooner burn the entire academy down than admit what that means."
"I need you," Lia said. "I need your power."
The woman—Seren—tilted her head.
"You swore never to use the family name."
"I'm not asking for the family," Lia said. "I'm asking for you."
Seren walked past her, pausing beside a collapsed column. She picked up a blade leaning against it—long, thin, forged from black steel, and etched with ancient glyphs.
She ran a hand along its edge.
"I left that world behind for a reason."
"I know. But Kael is—he's different."
Seren's eyes flashed. "They all say that."
"He's not after power. He's not trying to take a throne. He just wants to change things. And that's why they're afraid of him."
Silence.
Then, Seren looked over her shoulder. "Is he worth the cost?"
Lia hesitated.
"Would you bleed for him?" Seren asked.
"Yes."
"Would you betray a kingdom?"
"Yes."
"Would you burn what remains of our name to keep him breathing?"
Lia didn't flinch. "Yes."
Seren turned fully now, sword in hand. Her expression was unreadable.
Then, slowly, she stepped forward and handed the blade to Lia.
"Then we start tonight."
---
Meanwhile…
Kael sat in the center of a rune-etched cell, arms chained above him, ankles bound. Magic inhibitors wrapped tightly around his forearms, humming with pressure. The cell was buried deep beneath Vireen's oldest keep, where even the walls whispered spells of silence and suppression.
He had counted the guards—six outside, two rotating shifts, and one scribe who never looked up from his slate.
They weren't interrogating him. Not yet.
Which meant they were waiting for something. Or someone.
Footsteps echoed beyond the iron bars.
Kael raised his head.
Ardyn entered alone.
He didn't wear his academy robes. He wore a high-collared cloak lined with gold and the crest of the Eldrien royal house. His sword was unbelted, but Kael knew better than to assume he came unarmed.
Ardyn stopped just outside the bars.
"You're stubborn," he said. "I respect that."
Kael didn't answer.
Ardyn sighed. "I offered you an out. All you had to do was kneel."
Kael finally spoke, voice dry. "I'd rather bleed standing."
Ardyn chuckled. "And you will. Tomorrow."
Kael's eyes narrowed.
"Yes," Ardyn continued, "your sentence is already written. A public display, of course. The people will see the danger of unchecked ambition."
"You mean hope."
Ardyn's face darkened.
"You were clever," he said. "Talented. But you forgot your place."
Kael smiled faintly. "No. I just stopped pretending it mattered."
There was a flash of fury in Ardyn's eyes—but he smothered it quickly. He leaned closer to the bars.
"I want you to understand something before you die, Kael," he whispered. "You didn't lose because you were weak. You lost because you were alone."
He turned to leave.
Kael's voice stopped him.
"I'm not."
Ardyn glanced back.
Kael's eyes were calm. Cold. Certain.
"I'm not alone."