The night was still. Too still.
Kael sat apart from the campfires, Crimson Fang across his knees, its edge catching the faint glow of embers. His companions laughed softly around the flames, sharing bread and old stories, yet their voices seemed to drift far from him—like echoes in another world.
The fight against Malphor had left him marked. Not wounded in flesh—his body bore only shallow cuts and bruises—but deep in spirit. He could still feel the Juggernaut's crushing blows, still hear the clash of steel that nearly drove him to his knees. And behind those memories, the voice of the Sovereign's shadow, whispering from across the battlefield.
Kaelen approached slowly, the hem of his dark cloak brushing the grass.
"You're quieter than usual," the old sorcerer said, lowering himself beside Kael. His staff rested across his lap, runes faintly pulsing with light.
"Battles carve deeper scars on the heart than on the skin."
Kael's eyes narrowed, crimson gaze fixed on the sword in his hands.
"Tell me, Kaelen… the Sovereign's forces—are they always this strong?"
Kaelen gave a low chuckle. "You've only seen their outer shell, boy. Juggernauts, phantoms, seers… and beyond them? Things not born of men." His gaze flickered to the stars, troubled. "But you stood your ground. And you lived. That is no small thing."
Arden strode over, tossing half a loaf of bread into Kael's lap.
"You brooding again? Eat. You'll need strength if we're going to keep up this madness." He dropped beside them with a heavy sigh, his armor clattering. "I'll admit it though—you fought like the gods themselves were swinging your blade."
Kael managed a faint smirk. "And yet, it wasn't enough."
Selene approached next, her presence softening the air. She crouched, her healer's satchel slung across her shoulder.
"It was," she said firmly. "We're alive. That means it was enough."
The firelight caught her eyes—tired, yet burning with quiet conviction.
"You carry more weight than anyone should, Kael. But don't forget… you don't carry it alone."
The words struck him harder than any blow Malphor had dealt. For a moment, Kael said nothing, his chest heavy with something he couldn't name. Then, at last, he nodded.
"Thank you."
The night carried on. Companions shared stories, laughter breaking the silence. And though Kael did not laugh, he stayed among them, letting their voices weave around him like a shield.
But when the fires burned low, and his companions slept, Kael remained awake, eyes fixed on the horizon. His hand tightened around Crimson Fang, whispers of the Sovereign's power echoing in his mind.
This war was only beginning.