The world burned with quiet grace.
Not from fire, but from the shimmer of fading magic that glowed like dying starlight over the plains of Eltharion. The land was cracked and hollow; a place long forgotten by gods and men.
And in the heart of that silence stood Kael Veyne, the cursed exorcist.
His cloak fluttered in the wind, torn from countless battles. The sigils along his sword pulsed faintly, whispering an old language of pain. Around him lay the remains of creatures not born of light nor darkness—twisted things from the Abyss, their forms dissolving into shadow.
Kael's eyes were calm, almost sorrowful. "It's done," he whispered, voice hoarse.
The silence didn't answer.
He had been fighting for centuries—so long that years lost their meaning. He couldn't remember how many worlds he had walked through, or how many demons had fallen beneath his blade. The curse inside him—the Obsidian Mark—kept him alive when death would have been mercy. It healed him. Rebuilt him. Refused to let him rest.
Sometimes, when the nights were too quiet, he could almost hear the curse speak.
> "You cannot die, Kael. You are the flame that never fades."
He hated that voice.
---
The Battle's End
The air shifted.
A tremor rippled through the ground, and Kael turned sharply. Across the desolate plain, one last demon still stood. Tall, horned, and cloaked in smoke, its body seemed to devour the light around it.
"You," the demon hissed, eyes glowing a hateful gold. "Even your kind fears what you've become."
Kael raised his blade, a faint smile crossing his face. "Then you know why you'll lose."
The creature roared and lunged, shadows exploding from its body. The ground shattered under its weight. Kael moved before thought—his body a blur, his sword slicing through the air like a silver promise. Sparks of blue energy followed each strike, painting light across the ruins.
The two forces clashed, magic against will, shadow against flame.
Kael's eyes narrowed. His mark burned on his skin—violet light seeping through his veins. The sword in his hand flared with energy, a clean, soundless blaze that cut through darkness itself.
When the dust settled, the demon froze mid-motion. Its chest split in a flash of light before collapsing into ash.
Kael stood quietly as the last shadow faded.
He waited for relief. None came. There never was any. Only silence, and the faint hum of his curse.
---
Echoes of the Past
The wind carried the scent of rain. Kael looked to the horizon, where clouds gathered like mourning shrouds. His hand tightened on the hilt of his sword.
For a moment, he remembered—
A different sky.
A world before the curse.
A woman's laughter beside a silver river.
Her name was Elara, the first and last person who had ever called him human.
He had once been a protector, a young exorcist of the Celestial Order. Back then, the world had been full of light, and he had believed in justice. But justice had died when the Abyss rose. His friends, his city, even Elara—all consumed.
To stop the chaos, Kael had made a vow: to wield the forbidden flame known as Obsidian Fire, sacrificing his humanity to seal the demons away.
He succeeded. But the flame had bound itself to his soul, making him what he was now—an undying blade that could never know peace.
He looked down at his hand, at the faint black veins crawling beneath his skin.
"Was the world ever worth this?" he murmured.
The clouds above answered with thunder.
---
The Light Returns
A sudden pulse of energy rippled through the air—gentle, yet powerful enough to make the ground tremble. Kael turned sharply. Far in the distance, a beam of light burst from the heart of the mountains, climbing straight into the heavens.
It was pure, golden, and warm—the kind of light he hadn't seen since the dawn of time.
"The Seal…" Kael breathed. "It's breaking."
His curse stirred violently, as though awakened by an old enemy.
> "Do not go," it whispered. "The light will unmake you."
Kael ignored it.
He took a step forward, the earth cracking under his boots. Every instinct screamed against it, but the pull was irresistible. The beam shimmered like a thread connecting heaven and earth—calling him home.
He ran.
The wind howled past him. The land blurred. His cloak snapped behind him like wings of shadow.
When he reached the edge of the light, it was like standing before the breath of a god. The air hummed with power; ancient sigils circled the beam, glowing brighter with every heartbeat.
Kael reached out a trembling hand.
"After all these years… am I finally allowed to rest?" he whispered.
The light touched his fingers—warm, soft, kind. For a heartbeat, the curse within him screamed in defiance. Darkness flared across his body, battling the radiance.
> "You are mine, Kael!" the curse roared.
"You will never be free!"
Kael gritted his teeth, forcing his will against the tide. "Then I'll take you with me."
The light surged. Shadows shattered like glass.
And then—silence.
---
The Rebirth
When Kael opened his eyes, the world was new.
He lay on soft grass, sunlight filtering through silver leaves above him. The air was clear, carrying the scent of blooming flowers. The sky glowed gold—not the angry gold of war, but the gentle gold of dawn.
He sat up slowly. His body felt light—too light. He looked down at his hands.
The black veins were gone. The sigils had vanished. His sword lay beside him, but the markings that once cursed it were nothing more than faint scratches.
"What is this place?" he murmured.
A soft voice answered. "A beginning."
Kael turned.
Standing a few steps away was a woman cloaked in silver light. Her hair shimmered like moonlit silk, and her eyes glowed with the warmth of a thousand dawns.
"Who are you?" he asked quietly.
"I am Lyra Edevane," she said, her voice like a melody from another age. "Guardian of the Celestial Seal… and the one who brought you here."
He frowned. "You brought me back? Why?"
"Because the world is changing again," she said softly. "The Abyss stirs beneath the realms. The seals are failing. You were the one who ended the first war, Kael. And now, the balance demands your return."
Kael looked down, feeling the weight of centuries press against his chest. "I'm not what I once was. The curse—"
"Is gone," Lyra interrupted gently. "The fire within you sleeps, but it still burns. You will need it again."
She extended her hand. "Come with me. The Seven Realms need their protector once more."
Kael hesitated. His heart pounded—not with fear, but with something he hadn't felt in lifetimes. Hope.
He took her hand.
Light surrounded them, rising like waves of silver and gold. The ruins vanished, replaced by a vast horizon—a new world waiting to be reborn.
And as the wind carried their forms into the dawn, Kael Veyne—once the cursed exorcist—realized that eternity hadn't ended.
It had only begun again