The wasteland was never truly silent. The wind carried whispers, and the earth groaned with old scars. But that night, the silence was unnatural, heavy. Even the fire Kael and the wanderer had built sputtered as though it feared to burn.
The wanderer rose suddenly, her hand on her sword. "They've found us."
Kael's heart skipped. "Hunters again?"
Her eyes narrowed into the dark horizon. "No. Worse."
Shapes moved in the distance, dozens of them, cloaked in black. Their armor gleamed faintly, but it bore no crest. They advanced like shadows given form, silent, disciplined, inevitable.
Kael felt his stomach twist. "Who are they?"
"The Shadow Legion," the wanderer said grimly. "The king's hand of death."
The legion spread in a half circle, cutting off escape. From their ranks, a single figure stepped forward. His presence alone pressed on the air like a blade at Kael's throat.
General Kaelith.
His voice was low, measured, but it carried with ease. "Return the boy, wanderer, and your life will be spared."
The wanderer spat into the dust. "You'll have to kill me first."
"So be it."
The first wave of soldiers advanced, their blades flashing in unison. The wanderer moved to meet them, her sword a storm of steel. Sparks flew as she clashed with three at once, her movements fluid and deadly.
But more closed in.
Kael's chest tightened. He gripped the broken wooden sword, useless now, and searched for anything—anything to fight with. His gaze caught on a jagged piece of stone. He seized it just as two legion soldiers broke past the wanderer, their eyes fixed on him.
Kael stumbled back, fear choking him. His mark seared, light pulsing under his skin.
"Stay away!" he shouted.
The first soldier sneered, swinging his blade. Kael raised the stone desperately—then silver light erupted, shattering the steel in an explosion of sparks.
Both soldiers froze. The light coiled around Kael's arms like living fire. His vision blurred, his heart hammering, but for the first time he felt the power not as something alien—but as something answering him.
With a raw cry, he thrust the stone forward. A wave of force erupted, hurling both men backward into the dust.
Silence fell for a heartbeat. The Shadow Legion paused, reassessing.
General Kaelith's eyes narrowed. "So the cursed star child awakens."
The wanderer, blood on her blade, glanced at Kael with a mixture of pride and dread. "Kael—control it! Don't let it consume you!"
But the mark blazed brighter, feeding on his fear and rage. Kael's small body trembled as the power surged higher, too much, too fast. The ground cracked beneath his feet.
The legion steadied themselves. Kaelith raised his hand, his voice cold. "Do not kill the boy. Bind him. He belongs to the king."
The soldiers advanced again.
Kael screamed, the light bursting outward in a shockwave that rattled the earth and sent several legionnaires sprawling. His breath came ragged, his body shaking from the force.
The wanderer dashed to his side, grabbing his shoulder. "Enough! You'll burn yourself out!"
Kael collapsed, the light fading as quickly as it came. Darkness crept at the edges of his vision. The last thing he saw was the legion regrouping, advancing like a tide that would not stop.
The wanderer lifted him into her arms, her teeth clenched. "Not tonight," she hissed, and with a burst of strength she carved a path through the soldiers, fleeing into the wasteland's shadows.
Behind them, Kaelith watched, his expression unreadable.
"The hunt begins," he murmured.