The room was deathly silent, broken only by a faint rustling sound, as if the wind were brushing against the glass, even though the window was closed. Kalen was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall. Darkness spread out in front of him, like an ink-filled pool.
Silhouettes rose from it.
Wardes went out first
They were silent. Long.
Kalen carved name after name out of the air, each symbol dissolving into the darkness, leaving a scent of ash and iron in its wake.
"He's too angry," Ward said. His voice was low and echoing, like an echo in an empty hall. "His magic is trembling. His mind is being tightened like a noose."
"He's alone," whispered Thirk. "We know. But if he falls, he'll take us with him."
One of the younger spiders ventured closer and, like a child, touched the edge of Kallen's coat with its leg.
"K-k-king..." came a hiss. "Don't..."
Kalen looked up. His eyes were as black as the abyss itself. And in the depths of them danced bloody patterns, breathing a living malice.
"Why are you silent, eh?" His voice was hoarse. "Where were you when I lost everything? When my mother sold me, my father forgot, my brothers were killed, and my sisters looked at me like I was a wild beast?"
Silence.
"They lied to me! Even she," he clenched his fists, "even Reina... WHY THE FUCK AM I IN THIS WORLD?"
He lowered his head again. His breathing was ragged. His heart was pounding like a blacksmith's hammer.
Then Ward slowly approached and got down on one knee.
"You are our king. But you must not burn to ashes."
Tirk followed, slowly, like an ancient creature that knew the value of anger:
"Anger is fuel. But if you burn everything around you, who will be left to share the ashes with you?"
Kallen looked at the floor. At the shadows that seemed to be trembling.
"I just... I don't understand why this is happening. Why didn't anyone tell me? Why me?"
"Because you survived," Vard whispered. "Because you're the one who walked through the void. The one who ate the flesh of monsters, spoke to shadows, and fell and got up again. Because you're no longer human, Kalen."
— And who am I?"
"The one who walks through death. The one they call the King of Shadows."
He closed his eyes.
The world was empty for a second. No names. No grudges. Just breathing. Just a pulse.
The spiders closed in around him like a ring. Tirk slowly sank down beside him, touching Kallen's shoulder with his paw. Ward stood behind him like a guard at a throne.
"You're not alone," Ward said.
Kalen inclined his head slightly:
"And you're... mine."
— We are shadows. We are yours. Forever.
And the night, so heavy and sticky, was not lonely for the first time in a long time.
***
The morning came reluctantly. It was as if the sun itself did not want to enter this part of the world, this house where the walls remembered too much.
Kalen walked out of his room slowly. He was calm, almost too calm. The storm inside had subsided—after his nighttime conversation with the shadows, his rage had not disappeared, but it had become deeper. Heavier. Colder. The pain had not gone away—it had simply stood by his side, whispering:
"Remember them. Remember everyone who made you this way."
He went down to the great hall. Celia was sitting by the fireplace, her head bowed. Her face was a mask of calm, but her fingers were clenched around her glass. Next to her was Norea, her younger sister, silent as always. Her eyes were filled with fear, anxiety, and... guilt?
"Morning," Kalen said curtly.
Norea barely nodded. Celia didn't even look at him.
"Lair's body was found near the northern ruins," she said. "Veren... they haven't found him yet, just the blood."
Kalen gritted his teeth.
"And the killer?"
"No one saw anything," Celia replied. "Or... no one wants to talk."
He sat down in an armchair, crossing his legs.
"Someone was working from the inside. It wasn't a robbery or an attack from the outside. Someone set them up. One hit, and that was it."
"And you want to find out," Celia said. Without emotion. As if she knew he wouldn't stop.
Kalen nodded.
"My father is not my ally. Reyna..." he paused. "I don't know who she is anymore."
"We're not your enemies," Norea said quietly.
He looked at her. There was no falsehood in her voice. Only pain.
"You're my sisters. But you didn't say anything when I was thrown out of here."
Norea lowered her head.
— We were kids…
"Me too," he said, standing up. "But not now."
He turned around and headed for the exit.
"Where are you going?" asked Celia.
"Upstairs," he said. "I want to know who killed my brothers. I want answers."
At that moment, Vard appeared beside him, a black silhouette on the edge of perception, hidden in the shadows of the walls.
"Shall we hunt, my king?"
Kalen smiled faintly.
"Let's get started.