Far beyond the valley, in the ruins of a forgotten fortress carved into black stone, Vael stood before a towering gate engraved with draconic symbols. Each rune pulsed faintly red — as if the stone itself remembered blood.
The mist around him thickened, coiling into the shapes of wings and claws. The air hummed, and a low, distorted voice broke through the silence.
"You failed to bring him to the threshold."
Vael knelt, head bowed, his mask cracked and bleeding faintly at the edge. "He has awakened the Silver Flame. The First Brood's power moves within him now. That is enough."
The voice rumbled like thunder beneath the earth. "Enough? The eclipse draws near, and the Vessel still resists. You promised me his submission."
Vael's lips curled. "And he will submit. Not through chains, but through despair. He'll see what happens when the world he clings to rejects him."
From the shadows behind the gate, a shape stirred — vast, unseen, but its eyes glowed like molten coals. The creature's breath distorted the air, warping space with each exhale.
"You are not to toy with destiny, Vael."
"Destiny toys with us," Vael replied coldly. "Kael will come to me — when everything he loves burns because of what he carries."
The air fell silent. Then, the entity spoke again, quieter this time.
"You still fear him."
Vael's fingers tightened around his sword hilt. "I don't fear him. I fear what he could become."
The gate cracked open an inch. A claw the size of a mountain ridge brushed the air, leaving trails of red lightning in its wake.
"Then make him become it. Make him mine."
The voice faded, and the mist dissolved, leaving Vael standing alone in the dark. He removed his mask slowly, revealing eyes that shimmered with both sorrow and fury.
He whispered to himself,
"Kael… you were never meant to be my enemy. You were meant to be my brother."
The words hung heavy in the cold air — a secret older than either of them had realized.
As the crimson moon rose over the mountains, Vael drew a blade forged of twin metals — one silver, one black — a reflection of Kael's own power.
"When the eclipse comes," he murmured, "we will finish what our ancestors began."
And in the distance, a faint silver glow flickered across the horizon — Kael's aura, miles away, reacting as though it heard him.
The bond between the two — ancient, fractured, and inevitable — had begun to awaken.