When Kael's eyes fluttered open, the first thing he felt was pain. His body ached as though fire had scorched him from the inside out. Every breath came shallow, raw. The second thing he felt was the cold of dawn pressing against his skin.
He blinked, vision blurry. Above him stretched the pale sky of the wasteland, streaked with pink and gray. He lay on a bed of coarse blankets in the hollow of a crumbling cliffside. The wanderer sat nearby, tending to her sword with calm, practiced motions.
"You're awake," she said without looking at him.
Kael swallowed, his throat dry. "What… happened?"
"You nearly killed yourself." Her voice was flat, but her eyes flicked briefly toward him, sharp as a blade. "The power surged out of you like a flood. If I hadn't dragged you out, the Shadow Legion would have had you."
The memories crashed back — the legion's black armor, the shattered steel, the light bursting from his hands, the ground splitting beneath his feet. His chest tightened.
"I lost control," Kael whispered.
The wanderer didn't answer. She ran a cloth down her blade slowly, deliberately.
Kael sat up with effort, clutching the broken piece of wood he still carried. His hands trembled as he stared at it. "I almost… I almost hurt you too, didn't I?"
Her silence was answer enough.
Kael's breath quickened, shame and fear knotting inside him. "Then maybe they're right. Maybe I am cursed. A monster."
The wanderer's head snapped up. Her gaze locked on him, fierce and unyielding. "Don't you dare say that."
"But—"
"You listen to me, Kael," she cut him off, her voice sharp as steel. "That power does not define you. It is dangerous, yes. But dangerous does not mean evil. Evil is choice, not birth."
Kael bit his lip, fighting back the sting in his eyes. "But I couldn't stop it. What if next time I lose control completely? What if I hurt someone who doesn't deserve it?"
For the first time, the wanderer's expression softened. She set her sword aside and moved closer, crouching in front of him. Her hand rested lightly on his shoulder.
"Then you learn to control it. That is why I train you. That is why you survive. Power is like fire, Kael — it can burn, or it can protect. The choice will always be yours."
Kael looked into her eyes, searching for doubt, but found none. Her words pressed against the fear coiled in his chest, steadying it, if only a little.
"I don't want to be a monster," he whispered.
"Then don't be."
The simplicity of her answer struck him harder than any sword.
For a long moment, the only sound was the wind howling through the cliffside. Kael tightened his grip on the broken wood, then let it fall beside him. He lifted his gaze to the horizon, where the wasteland stretched endless and unforgiving.
"The Shadow Legion won't stop," he said quietly.
"No," the wanderer agreed. "They won't."
"Then I have to get stronger." Kael's voice was steadier now, though his hands still trembled. "Strong enough to fight them. Strong enough to control this power, so it doesn't control me."
The wanderer studied him for a long moment. Then, for the first time since the battle, she allowed a small, rare smile.
"Good," she said. "That's the Kael I chose to protect."
Kael breathed deeply, the weight in his chest still heavy but no longer suffocating. He knew the road ahead would be brutal. He knew the world feared him, hated him, hunted him. But he also knew this: he would not let fear decide who he was.
The cursed star child was still alive. And he had chosen to fight.