Chapter 8: The Weight of a Crown
Kael's POV
The fire has died to embers, but its warmth is a lie. It can't reach the cold place inside me that opened when Mom died. I stare at the last piece of hare, my stomach a tight knot. Fenra finished her share in three gulps and now rests her head on my lap, a solid, warm weight. Her simple, animal contentment is a stark contrast to the storm in my head.
Every time I close my eyes, I see it. Not just Mom's light fading, but the look on her face when she saw the darkness in me. The horror. The disappointment. I wanted to save her, but all I did was show her the monster in her son.
It felt good.
The thought is a shard of ice in my heart. In that moment, when the dark power surged, I wasn't scared. I was strong. I was angry. And a part of me, a part I'm terrified to acknowledge, wants to feel that again.
"Can't sleep?"
Seraphine said quietly. She's been cleaning her daggers, the rhythmic scrape of stone on metal a familiar sound already.
"I'm fine," I lied
She doesn't call me on it. She just watches me, her amethyst eyes seeing too much. "The first kill is always the hardest."
I flinch. "I didn't kill it. You sealed it."
"I'm not talking about the Beast." She sets her dagger down. "I'm talking about the boy you were in the sanctuary. He died in that chamber too, didn't he?"
The truth of her words hits me with the force of a physical blow. She's right. The boy who woke up to his mother's lessons, who worried about drawing perfect sigils, who knew nothing but the safety of stone walls,he's gone. He was sealed away with his mother's light. What's left is... this. A hollowed-out thing full of grief and a terrifying darkness.
A sob escapes me, harsh and ugly. I try to choke it back, but it's too late. The dam breaks. I curl in on myself, my shoulders shaking, hot tears streaming down my face and dripping onto Fenra's fur. I cry for Mom. I cry for Lorian. I cry for the walls that kept me safe and the simple life I will never have again. The weight of it all is crushing me, this legacy I never asked for, this crown of thorns and ruin.
I cry until my throat is raw and my eyes burn.
Seraphine doesn't touch me. She doesn't tell me it will be okay. She just sits there, a silent witness to my collapse. And somehow, that makes it worse. And better.
When the storm finally passes, leaving me drained and empty, she speaks, her voice low and steady.
"My first mission for the Lunaris," she begins, staring into the embers, "was to retrieve a artifact from a family who had sworn to protect it. They were descendants of an old Astral Vanguard knight, just trying to live in peace. The father fought. He was brave. Reckless." She picks up a twig, snapping it in two with a sharp crack. "I was faster. I still see his face sometimes. The surprise. Then nothing."
The confession hangs in the air, stark and brutal.
"Why are you telling me this?" I whisper, my voice hoarse.
"Because you think your pain is unique. That your burden is special because you're the Echoborn." She finally looks at me, and her gaze is uncompromising. "It's not. Pain is pain. Loss is loss. We all carry ghosts, Kael. The choice is whether we let them weigh us down or... learn to carry them."
She stands, brushing the dirt from her pants. "We move at first light. Get some rest. Your ghosts will still be there in the morning, and they'll be lighter if you're not tired."
She moves to the edge of the hollow to take the next watch, leaving me alone with my thoughts and a sleeping wolf.
Learn to carry them.
I look down at my hands. One could channel the pure, creative light of the Astral Sovereigns. The other had summoned the destructive rage of the Demon Sovereign. Both were mine. Both were part of this legacy.
Mom's signet ring feels heavy against my chest. I pull the leather cord over my head and hold the ring in my palm. It's cool and solid, a tarnished silver band with the swirling vortex of the Echo Throne. It's a symbol of everything I've lost. But as I close my fingers around it, I realize it's also a promise. A promise she believed I could be more than my bloodline.
Fenra whines softly, licking the tears from my cheek. Her simple, unconditional loyalty is an anchor in the storm of my grief.
I am Kael Vireon. I am the last heir of a fallen throne. I carry the light of my mother and the ruin of my father. I am haunted and hunted.
But I am not alone.
I slip the ring back over my head, tucking it under my tunic. The cold metal rests against the warm hum of the Echo Core. For the first time since the sanctuary fell, the two sensations don't feel like a conflict. They just feel like... me.
I lie down, curling around Fenra's warmth, and let exhaustion pull me under. The ghosts are still there, whispering in the dark. But for now, they are quiet. For now, I am just a boy, tired from crying, finding a moment of peace in the shelter of a wolf and the watchful presence of a girl who chose to stand with him.
The crown is heavy. But maybe I don't have to wear it alone.
Seraphine's POV
I listen to his breathing even out into sleep. The raw, gut-wrenching sound of his crying is etched into my mind. I meant what I said—pain is universal. But his... his is a ocean, and he's just a boy trying not to drown.
I told him about the man I killed to shatter any illusion he might have that I am purely noble. I am not a knight from his grandmother's stories. I am a weapon that chose a different target. I have blood on my hands, and he needs to know that the person guarding him is not innocent.
Seeing him break like that... it was necessary. He needed to grieve. But it also solidified my resolve. The Lunaris order, the Demon God Cult,they see power as a thing to be wielded, a tool for control. They look at Kael and see the Core, the bloodline, the threat.
They don't see the boy who cried himself to sleep because he misses his mother.
I look at Fenra, her protective curl around him, and feel a strange kinship with the beast. We are both predators who have chosen to protect. We have both sensed something in him worth saving, something beyond the power and the prophecy.
The Cult wants to extinguish his light. The Lunaris want to exploit his power.
I just want to make sure that boy, the one who is more than the sum of his legacies, gets a chance to grow up.
The night is cold, and the path ahead is drenched in blood and shadow. But as I stand watch over the sleeping heir and his guardian, a single, clear thought cuts through the complexity.
This is not a mission anymore.
This is a vow.
And I will see it through to the end.
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ADD TO LIBRARY: Make sure to add to your library! The journey to find Thorne will test their newfound resolve in ways they can't yet imagine.
What's Next:
The practical challenges of the journey to the Riverlands begin. They'll face harsh weather, scarce resources, and the first real test of their ability to work as a team when they're forced to navigate a dangerous mountain pass.
Thank you for reading. Your engagement with these characters' emotional journeys is what gives this story its heart.