In the hollow beneath the mountain, a cult lit their black fire. Each chant was a nail pried loose from the Tyrant's coffin.
The world trembled the day the Tyrant was chained. Even the heavens cracked when his generals turned their blades on him.
"Haaah—! Hhhahhh…!" Air. For the first time in a hundred years, Kai Crimson gasped for air. It was sharp and ragged, like glass in his lungs. Every breath tore his insides like fire.
Darkness. Then, a sliver of murky light. His vision swam, focusing slowly. The world resolved into shapes of stone and soil. The air was thick with the smell of wet earth and decay. He was in a place that seemed to be some kind of graveyard.
White flashes came in, making his head ache. He saw himself turning into stone along side some people he couldn't recognize. Kai collapsed to his knees, clutching his chest. A pressure was building behind his ribs, as if something trapped inside was fighting to get out.
Where am I?
He managed to get back on his feet and staggered to a small gate at the corner. As his hand touched the cold, wet iron, another flash seared his mind.
"Ahhh." He grabbed his head with both hands as it ached even more.
The rusted iron groaned as he pushed it open, revealing a path choked with brambles. Suddenly, a voice cut through the fog in his mind.
"Hey! You there! Stop!"
Torchlight flickered between the headstones as figures emerged from the gloom. They seemed to be town guards, their faces hard and suspicious. One gestured to Kai's ragged, grave-soiled clothes.
"What's your business in the boneyard at this hour? You look like trouble."
Kai's mind raced, empty of any alibi. Instinct screamed: Run.
He raced, but his legs weak from a century of stillness buckled after only a dozen paces. A well-thrown net snared him before he could rise. He hit the ground hard, the world spinning as heavy boots pinned him down. They wrenched his arms behind his back, locking his wrists in cold, magically-suppressing cuffs.
"You think you can outrun The Knights of the Emperor?" one knight sneered, pulling the cuffs painfully tight.
They attached the chain of Kai's cuffs to a saddle and rode back to the kingdom, dragging him behind them.
"Who are you people? What is my offence?" Kai kept asking but his questions fell on deaf ears.
The stones and roots of the path tore at his back as the horse picked up speed. Each jolt sent fresh agony through his body. He squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on the sound of the hooves and the knights' casual conversation to stay conscious.
"...another grave robber," one knight shouted over the clatter. "Fool. Nothing left to steal out there but old bones and the curses that cling to them."
So that's what they think I am. Kai realized through the haze of pain. He forced his eyes open, catching glimpses of a landscape flying past: jagged mountains under a bruised twilight sky, a world utterly unfamiliar. This was not the land he remembered.
By the time they reached the kingdom's gates, Kai was barely conscious, his body a canvas of cuts and bruises. The cobblestone streets were a cacophony of sounds and smells—blacksmiths, food, shouting merchants—that were overwhelming and alien.
He was hauled into a stark, stone cell and dumped unceremoniously on the floor. The door clanged shut, plunging him into silence. Minutes or maybe hours later, a slot opened. A different, older face peered in, his expression not of brute force, but something about him sent shivers down Kai's spine.
"They found you at the Fallow Graves," the man said, his voice heavy but calm. "A place where only fools and heretics go. So, which are you?"
"Koff! Koff!" He coughed violently, squeezing his chest as if trying to revive his voice. "I..I am not a grave robber." He finally said.
"Then what exactly were you doing at the Fallow Graves?"
"I don't know, I just found myself there."
"You expect me to believe your half-baked lie? If you're not a grave robber, why did you try to escape my men?" His voice deepened, showing signs of rising rage.
"They didn't seem friendly, so I ran."
"Haaah" He exhaled sharply, trying to keep his cool. "I will decide your fate later for I have more important things to do."
As he shut the slot and was on his way leaving, Kai called him back.
"Wait! Please tell me where I am."
The man paused. A slow, humorless smile spread across his face. "You are nowhere. And soon, you will be no one." The sound of his retreating footsteps was a final, crushing verdict.
Kai tries resting on the cold walls but his wounds kept hurting. "Hhhss!" He gritted his teeth, a hiss escaping as pain shot through his entire body.
From the deepest shadows in the opposite corner of the cell, a chain slithered across stone, then snapped taut with a rusty clink. "I wouldn't bother trying to get comfortable," a voice rasped. It was dry as tomb-dust, yet held a thread of grim amusement.
Kai jerked, wincing as the movement sent fresh fire through his wounds. He squinted, his eyes struggling to pierce the gloom. A shape resolved itself—a man shackled to the wall, perhaps in his late thirties, with a weary, stubbled face and a nasty, freshly scabbed gash above his brow. The man offered a lopsided grimace that might have been meant as a smile. "The Commander's right about one thing, though. This *is* nowhere. The royal dungeons under Veridia's citadel. A place for forgotten men and political problems." He gave a short, humorless laugh. "Welcome."
Painstakingly, Kai used the cold, damp wall to brace himself, dragging his body to the opposite corner. The rough stone scraped against his torn back.
The man watched his struggle with a clinical eye. "So, which is it?" he asked, his tone conversational, as if asking about the weather. "A simple grave robber, desperate enough to loot the Fallow Graves? Or are you with the Shadow Legion?"
"The Shadow Legion?" The name stirred something in Kai's chest, a flicker of recognition and a deep, old bitterness, like the echo of a forgotten wound. The feeling was gone as quickly as it came, leaving only confusion.
"Yes, the Shadow Legion," the man repeated, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. He leaned forward as far as his chains would allow, the links straining. "A fanatical little cult that's been painting the villages red. They believe massacres are prayers, offerings to their sleeping god." His eyes, sharp and intelligent, bored into Kai. "Every child in the kingdom knows that name. So, you've truly never heard of them? Or are you pretending because you're one of them?"
"I have no idea about any—" Kai's protest was cut short as the name 'Shadow Legion' seemed to act as a key in his mind. A white-hot spike of agony lanced through his skull. It wasn't just pain; it was a floodgate breaking. A vision erupted behind his eyes: a banner of a black sun, snapping in a fiery wind, and the sound of screaming similar to war chants. He clutched his head, a guttural cry tearing from his throat as he collapsed to the filthy floor, the world spinning away into blackness.
The man's feigned nonchalance vanished. "Hey! Hey, are you okay?" He rattled his chains, stretching a hand towards Kai's limp form. Seeing the genuine, seizure-like agony, his voice lost its edge and filled with urgent concern. He turned towards the cell door, his shout echoing off the stone walls. "Guards! Something's wrong! Guards!"