The air was thick with smoke. It bit at Ael's lungs and stung his eyes. He stood barefoot on scorched earth, his armor half-melted, sword broken in his hand.
Around him were the ruins of an old port city—blackened wood, shattered stone, and charred corpses. The cries of the dying echoed like ghosts over the sound of burning sails.
In the distance, chained prisoners knelt along the docks. Some prayed. Others cursed. Above them floated the towering silhouette of Nyra, arms raised, her magic circling like a storm of water and fire.
He remembered this.
This was the day he gave the order that sealed her fate—and theirs.
"Drown them," his voice whispered again from memory, colder than steel.
"I obeyed," came a voice beside him.
Ael turned.
Nyra stood there—not the spectral sea-witch he had just met, but the young general she had once been. Her long braid was soaked with blood and seawater. Her hands trembled at her sides.
"You gave the command," she said, hollow. "And I obeyed."
"I know," Ael whispered.
She didn't look at him. Instead, she watched the sky. "You told me mercy was weakness. That if we spared them, they'd rise again."
"They would have," he said quietly.
"But I didn't want to become like them."
He looked down at his hands. They were covered in ash.
"Neither did I."
The scene shifted violently. A wave surged beneath his feet and the battlefield washed away. He found himself on a different dock now—this time, the prisoners weren't enemies.
They were villagers.
Women. Children. Men too old or young to fight. All branded with the sigils of the enemy kingdom—but not a single one held a sword.
Nyra stood again at the center of it all. Her face was blank, her eyes stormy. Ael remembered this moment even more clearly.
He hadn't known they were civilians… until after the water claimed them.
And yet, he had told her, "No one bearing the sigil shall be spared."
Ael staggered forward, the weight of that choice crushing down on his chest.
He'd spent lifetimes believing emotions were unnecessary—that logic and power were all a ruler needed.
But as he watched water consume the innocent again, guilt wrapped around his throat like a noose.
"You didn't feel anything back then," Nyra's voice echoed from behind.
He turned to her slowly.
"No," he admitted. "I didn't."
"Why are you crying now?"
Ael blinked. Tears blurred the edges of the scene.
"I don't know," he said. "I think I finally understand what it means to be wrong."
The sea fell silent.
The images of drowning faces, burning cities, and blood-soaked banners dissolved into a quiet blackness. The stone platform returned beneath his feet, slick with mist.
He stood alone at the center of the Ring of Memory. A single candle now floated before him—its flame untouched by wind.
Nyra's true form emerged once more, walking calmly across the water toward him.
"You saw it," she said. "All of it."
"Yes."
"And?"
"I won't run from it."
She tilted her head. "You were the most unfeeling man I ever knew. A weapon carved into the shape of a king. And now…?"
"I'm still a weapon," Ael said. "But now I know why I must choose my targets more carefully."
Nyra studied him for a long time.
Then she reached into the sea—and from its depths, she pulled forth a crystal shard that pulsed with violet light.
"A fragment of my oath," she said. "Once, it was tied to your name. Now it belongs to you again… by choice."
She placed it in his hand. The moment he touched it, warmth spread through his palm—and a quiet sob escaped his lips. It surprised even him.
He'd never wept for the dead before.
Not once.
But now he felt them.
And they hurt.
"Welcome back," Nyra said gently. "Not as our king. As our kin."
Kaelin, Elen, and Veyne approached from the deck, watching with somber expressions.
"It's done?" Kaelin asked.
Ael nodded, the crystal dimming in his hand.
"She's with us now."
Elen glanced warily at the jagged reefs beyond. "So what's next?"
Nyra turned, her eyes burning with fury. "We hunt down the next seal before she finds it."
Veyne narrowed his eyes. "Which one?"
"The Tomb of the Sleeper," Nyra answered. "Where the third Ashborn dreams in eternal frost."
Kaelin shivered.
Ael straightened his back.
Then let out a slow breath.
He felt heavier… and lighter at once.
"Let's wake him."