The gates of Valis Keep groaned as Kael pushed them open.
Stone screamed against stone, the sound echoing through the hollow fortress like a dying animal. The courtyard beyond was swallowed by moonlight and decay — cracked marble floors, collapsed pillars, banners reduced to rags fluttering weakly in the wind.
This place had once been alive.
Now it was a grave.
Kael stepped forward carefully. Every footfall stirred dust that had not been touched in centuries. His eyes traced familiar paths — the training grounds, the watchtower, the spot where Darian used to stand every morning, armor polished, spine straight, loyalty unquestioned.
"You always hated being late," Kael said quietly.
The blue light pulsed.
From the center of the courtyard, a figure emerged.
Tall. Armored. Silent.
The glow seeped through the cracks of ancient steel, outlining a knight who should have turned to bones long ago. His sword rested point-down against the stone, hands folded over the pommel — a posture of discipline, not aggression.
Darian.
Or what remained of him.
Kael's breath caught despite himself.
"Darian…"The name slipped out before he could stop it.
The knight's helm tilted upward slowly. Empty sockets burned with pale fire. When he spoke, his voice was layered — one part familiar, one part hollow, like an echo trapped in a tomb.
"My king."
Two words.And the past slammed into Kael like a blade.
He remembered Darian kneeling before him, swearing the old oath.My life before yours. My blade before your heart.
Kael took a step forward."You were dead," he said. "I felt it. The night the throne fell."
Darian's grip tightened on his sword.
"I died," the knight replied."But I was not allowed to rest."
The wind howled through the broken keep. The blue flames around Darian flared brighter, illuminating runes etched deep into his armor — binding sigils. Chains carved in magic.
Kael's jaw clenched."They enslaved you."
"They bound me," Darian corrected."To guard what remained… from you."
Silence.
That hurt more than any blade ever could.
Kael stopped moving. His voice dropped, heavy with restraint."Look at me."
The knight hesitated. Just for a fraction of a second — but Kael saw it.
"Look at your king," Kael said. "Not the curse they left behind. Not the monster they warned you about."
The flames in Darian's eyes flickered violently.
"I remember your voice," Darian said slowly."I remember your laughter. Your rage. Your mercy."
His sword trembled.
"And I remember the order I was given when the blood soaked the throne room."
Kael's chest tightened."What order?"
Darian raised his blade — not to strike, but in salute.
"If the king ever returns…""Stop him. Even if it costs the world."
The air cracked.
The courtyard erupted as Darian lunged forward, speed unnatural, sword blazing with spectral fire. Kael barely managed to draw his own blade — the clash sent shockwaves rippling through the ruins.
Steel met cursed steel.Past met present.
Kael gritted his teeth, pushing back."This isn't you!"
"I know," Darian growled, voice breaking."That's why it hurts."
Their blades locked. Faces inches apart — one living, one damned.
Kael whispered, fierce and steady:"You were my shield. My brother. If there is even a fragment of you left… then fight it."
For a heartbeat, the blue flames dimmed.
Darian's sword lowered by an inch.
And in that moment, Kael knew —This was not a battle to be won by strength.
This was a war against memory itself.