The storm had not ended — it had only grown quieter.
A silence too heavy to be natural lingered in the ruins. The rain still fell, but every drop seemed to avoid the place where the two men stood, as though the world itself held its breath.
Kael faced the stranger.The man's armor was scorched and cracked, his cloak singed at the edges. From beneath the hood, faint orange light flickered — not from a torch, but from within.He was fire given form.
"I thought you were dead," Kael said, tightening his grip on his sword."You should know better than anyone," the man replied, "fire never truly dies. It only waits for something worth burning."
Aeryn stepped closer, her staff humming with restrained magic. The air between them pulsed with tension.
"Who are you?" she asked.The man turned his head slightly toward her."Names are ashes. But once, they called me Serath."Kael's eyes narrowed."Serath the Undying… commander of the Crimson Order."
A faint smile crossed Serath's lips — or what was left of them. Beneath the hood, the skin of his face was cracked like black glass, glowing faintly from the fractures.
"You left me in the fire, Kael," he said softly. "You burned the temple and everyone in it. You made me what I am.""You chose your side," Kael answered. "And I ended it.""No," Serath whispered. "You began it."
A gust of wind swept through the ruins, carrying with it the scent of burnt roses.
Aeryn felt something coil around her heart — dread, old and familiar. She looked at Kael and saw the faintest flicker of fear in his eyes.It was the first time she had seen him afraid.
"What do you want?" Kael asked."The same thing you want," Serath said. "To end the curse that binds us both. You took the Flame of Aterion that night — and it marked you, just as it marked me."
He extended a gloved hand.Fire licked around his fingers, but the flame was black. It consumed light rather than giving it.
"Join me, Kael. Together, we could command the flame, reshape the world, and free ourselves from this half-life."
Kael stared at the black fire, and for a heartbeat, he saw himself reflected in it — broken, hollow, but powerful beyond reason.He could end his suffering. He could make the world remember his name.
Aeryn's voice cut through the whisper of temptation.
"Kael… don't."
Her tone wasn't commanding — it was pleading.And for a moment, he hated her for it. Because she reminded him of what he was trying to forget: the man he used to be.
"You speak of freedom," Kael said finally, "but your eyes burn with chains.""Chains are all that hold us together," Serath replied, stepping forward."Then I'll break them," Kael said.
Their swords moved almost at once.Light clashed with shadow. Fire against steel. The sound was deafening — a scream of metal and fury that split the storm itself.
Serath struck like lightning, each blow carrying the force of a furnace. Kael countered, the black blade of his sword absorbing the flames instead of reflecting them. The ground trembled. The temple walls cracked further.
Aeryn lifted her staff, casting a barrier of violet light around them — but the shockwaves shattered it. She was thrown back, her head hitting stone.
Through blurred vision, she saw Kael and Serath locked in a storm of power — their silhouettes almost indistinguishable.
Then, suddenly, silence.
The rain fell again.Both men stood still, swords crossed, fire hissing where it met shadow.
"This isn't over," Serath said, voice low, his grin glowing beneath the hood. "You cannot kill the fire. You are the fire."
He vanished in a burst of heat and smoke, leaving behind only the scorched mark of a rose burned into the stone.
Kael lowered his sword slowly. His chest heaved. For the first time, he realized the mark on his own forearm — faint, red, pulsing — was the same sigil.
Aeryn staggered toward him, blood trickling from her temple.
"Kael… what did he mean?"Kael looked down at his arm, at the rose of fire slowly spreading beneath his skin."It means," he said quietly, "I've just run out of time."
Lightning struck again, illuminating his eyes — now not just golden, but streaked with red.
And in the distance, far beyond the ruins, a tower's beacon flared to life — a signal from the Crimson Order.They were coming.