The wind howled through the dying trees of the Ashwood. Leaves as black as coal fell silently, and mist crawled across the forest floor like fingers searching for warmth.
Cael walked alone.
His blood-soaked robes trailed behind him. The undead knights had vanished into the shadows. He didn't need them now.
Ahead was an old hut, hidden beneath twisted branches and surrounded by runes carved into the bark of dead trees.
"Still here after all this time," Cael muttered, looking up.
"Let's see if you remember me, old friend."
This was the home of Lady Verenna, once the royal court's High Witch. She was the last living mage who hadn't betrayed him.
He knocked.
No answer.
He stepped forward — and the runes around the trees lit up red. A gust of wind threw Cael back a few feet, but he caught himself mid-air with magic, landing softly.
"That's not very welcoming," he said with a smirk.
Inside the hut, a soft voice called out.
"Only one soul carries that voice. Is it truly you, Cael Rothveil?"
He entered slowly. The air smelled of herbs, ash, and old blood. Candles floated in the air, and books whispered to themselves.
At the far end, lying in a bed of roots, was Verenna. Her body was frail, skin like paper. But her eyes glowed with magic — soft violet and full of sadness.
"You were just a boy… the day they burned you."
Cael walked to her side. His voice was low.
"And you were the only one who tried to stop them."
She smiled faintly. "I failed you."
"You tried," Cael said. "That's more than I can say for the rest."
There was a pause.
"Why are you here?" Verenna asked.
"To ask for your breath," Cael replied.
Verenna reached under her blanket and pulled out a small bottle. Inside it, a silver mist swirled.
"This is all that's left of my soul," she said. "The last pure breath of Arkhadian magic. If you take it, I will die."
Cael closed his eyes.
"Then let me carry your fire. I won't let it fade."
She smiled again, and for a moment, her old beauty returned — the proud witch who once stood at his father's side.
"Then take it, my king. Burn them all."
Cael raised the bottle to his lips.
The mist inside shot into him — silver turning red, then black, then fire. Runes lit up across his skin. He gasped as power surged through him.
The ground trembled.
Verenna took her last breath and faded into ash.
Cael stood in silence.
"You will be remembered," he whispered.
As Cael left the hut, a shadow dropped from the trees.
A man in black armor landed silently in front of him. A silver blade pointed at Cael's throat.
"Cael Rothveil," the man said. "In the name of the Twelve Chains, your rebirth ends here."
Cael tilted his head.
"Who are you supposed to be?"
"I am Razen Blackveil, Chain of Silence."
Cael's eyes glowed red.
"Then speak your last words, Razen."
The assassin moved first — fast, silent, deadly.
But Cael didn't flinch.
He raised a finger.
A Blood Sigil (Ancient rune magic written with his own blood) formed in the air, and Razen's sword shattered into dust.
Another flick — and the earth split beneath the assassin's feet. Shadows reached out and grabbed his limbs.
Razen struggled, but Cael stepped forward, placing a hand over his heart.
"You are strong," Cael said. "In another life, I might have made you a knight. But I'm no king now."
He whispered a word.
Razen screamed once.
Then was gone.
Cael stood alone in the silent forest. The air buzzed with power.
His hand glowed — another Godbrand (A cursed tattoo sealing part of his soul, which breaks each time he uses forbidden magic) had appeared across his chest. Each time he used forbidden magic, another piece of his soul was marked.
He looked at the new burn.
"Three marks already," he muttered. "How many until I become a god… or a monster?"
Thunder cracked in the sky.
And far away, the Twelve Chains felt the tremor of another one of their own being erased.