The journey to the citadel was in silence.
Kael sat in the back of a rune-drawn carriage, wrists bound by faintly glowing chains that hummed with a low vibration. Each pulse made his core ache — as if it were being forced to stay still.
Outside, the world was passing like a half-forgotten dream. Fields of glowing wheat were bending in wind, shimmering with residual mana. Herds of beasts with translucent horns grazed in the distance, their breath misting blue in the twilight.
But Kael barely saw any of it.
He fixed his eyes on the reflection that stared back from the polished metal of the carriage wall: a boy's face, pale and unfamiliar, framed by shadows of exhaustion.
I was supposed to die… not start over like this.
Why am I here? Why this world?
The man opposite him, Sir Varric, was the one who finally broke the silence. "You've been quiet. That's good. It means you're learning."
Kael lifted his eyes. "Learning what?"
Varric's mouth curved faintly, not kindly. "Fear."
The etched runes on the knight's armor shimmered softly, like restrained lightning. "You don't understand what your existence means, boy. The last one with an absorbing core brought ruin to three kingdoms.
Kael's heart rate picked up. "There was someone else like me?
Varric didn't answer. Instead, he tapped a finger on the rune-lock encircling Kael's wrists. "You'll find out soon enough. The Archmages will decide whether you live long enough to ask questions."
The rest of the ride was given over to an uncomfortable silence.
When the carriage finally stopped, Kael's breath caught.
Before him rose Aetherfall Citadel, a mountain of white stone and gold that floated above a sea of mist. Spires pierced the clouds, while bridges of shimmering light connected them. There was a great crystal at its heart, a second sun that pulsed with energy to feed the city below with streams of radiant mana.
It's beautiful…
And terrifying.
They crossed through a bridge of light, entering grand halls carved with runes that shifted like living ink. The air thrummed, dense with aether, alive with the whispers of power.
Varric led him down a corridor lined with marble statues — each one showing a mage, staff raised, light frozen mid-spell.
"Remember these faces," Varric said. "They were the ones who built this world after the Cataclysm. Don't give them a reason to destroy you for breaking it again."
Kael bit his tongue and kept walking.
He didn't belong here. He doesn't belong anywhere.
Finally, they came to a chamber so huge that it seemed sound died before it reached the ceiling. In its midst floated three figures in silver and blue, eyes glowing faintly with the reflected light of innumerable stars: Archmages.
"Bring the boy forward," one said, and the voice was calm, ancient, yet heavy enough to make Kael's knees weaken.
Varric pushed him gently. "Kneel."
Kael complied.
The tallest of the mages stepped forward, regarding him as if staring into his very soul. "So. The anomaly of Rynvale."
Kael swallowed. "I didn't mean to hurt anybody. I didn't even know what I was doing."
The gaze of the mage softened for a moment. "And yet, the field died, the air dimmed, and the flow of aether faltered. You hold power beyond understanding — and ignorance is no excuse."
He lifted one hand.
A sphere of golden light materialized, slowly spinning.
"This is your core," he said, "Or rather… a reflection of it."
Kael gasped. The sphere darkened, shot through with cracks of deep violet, while the light twisted in and devoured itself.
"Do you see? Your core doesn't create aether — it consumes it. You are a void, not a vessel."
The room quivered slightly.
Kael's heart was pounding. "Then… what happens to me?
The mage's expression turned unreadable. "That depends on whether your curse can be tamed… or if you are what the legends call the Devourer Reborn."
The sphere flared before Kael could speak.
Something in him had responded — instinctively, violently. His chest burned, the chains glowing bright blue, and air rippled with unseen force.
Runes on the floor ignited, forming a circle of light beneath him. The mages shouted spells, their voices echoing through the hall.
Kael screamed-not from pain, but from the flood of voices in his head.
Hundreds, maybe thousands, whispering all at once.
You shouldn't exist.
You were chosen.
The seal weakens. And then, through it all, a familiar tone kicked in: calm, digital, echoing like a line of code. [System Fragment Detected.]
Reconstruction: 12%. Kael's eyes widened. That wasn't a voice of this world. A system? Like… software? How can such a thing exist here?
The energy died as suddenly as it started. Kael collapsed on the ground, gasping, the light vanishing from his chains.
The Archmages exchanged wary glances. One whispered, "It's beginning again." Another murmured, "Seal it, before the gods notice.
Kael looked up weakly. "What… are you talking about?" The tallest mage's face turned grave. "Pray, boy, that you never find out."