The cultist was dying.
Kaelen had not meant to kill him. He had only meant to stop him.
He had wanted answers.
How did he get here?
The man had appeared inside the warded chamber without triggering a single alarm. No door had opened. No window had moved. The protective runes carved into the walls had remained intact.
He had simply appeared.
Kaelen had reacted on instinct.
Power had surged from his body before he had time to control it. The cultist had been thrown across the room and slammed into the stone wall.
Now he lay crumpled against it.
Blood ran from the corner of his mouth.
Kaelen approached slowly.
"How did you get here?"
The cultist laughed.
It was a weak, broken sound.
"You still don't understand."
Kaelen crouched beside him.
"Then explain it."
The man's eyes lifted toward him.
For a moment, Kaelen saw something strange in them.
Recognition.
"You opened the door."
Kaelen's expression hardened.
"I did no such thing."
"You did."
