Chapter Four
Ash in the Hearth
By the time Kael reached the base of Mount Vehl, the storm had passed.
But the silence it left behind felt wrong.
No birds. No wind. No sound but the crunch of his boots on frost-hardened soil and the soft whisper of the sword on his back.
The mark on his palm had dimmed, but not gone. It felt like a second heartbeat now—slow, steady, waiting.
The valley below should've been familiar. The moss-lined road. The tangled woods. The smoke trails from hearthfires in Darrin's Hollow. But even before he reached the first crooked fence, Kael knew:
Something had changed.
The village was too still.
He crept forward, hand resting near the hilt of his father's sword, eyes scanning the path ahead. A cart lay overturned, its wheel cracked, fruit frozen to the earth. The tavern windows were shattered inward. Doors swung open and closed in the wind like mouths whispering secrets.
Then he saw the forge.
Home.
Or what was left of it.
The roof had caved in, charred beams reaching skyward like blackened ribs. Ash blanketed the ground, dusting the anvil, the old workbench. His father's tools—some melted, some shattered—lay strewn across the yard.
Kael stood frozen.
It wasn't the destruction that broke him.
It was the precision.
Whoever did this hadn't raided.
They had searched.
For something.
Or someone.
The mark on his hand flared, and a whisper tickled the back of his mind—not words, but instinct.
You were right to climb.
A sound behind him.
Kael spun, sword drawn.
Nothing.
Then—a voice. Familiar. Broken.
"Kael?"
From the shadows of the ruined house, someone stepped out—limping, wrapped in a torn cloak.
Mara, the healer's daughter. His friend since childhood.
Her face was streaked with soot. A thin gash traced her temple.
"They said you were dead," she whispered. "They came for you."
Kael lowered the sword just slightly. "Who?"
Mara's eyes widened in fear. "They wore no colors. Moved like mist. Eyes like glass. They kept asking for 'the Bound one.' They tore apart everything. Looking for your father's sword."
Kael's stomach dropped.
"They killed Rorren," she added, voice cracking. "And they—" Her hand trembled as it clutched her side. "They said the Accord was over."
Kael looked back at the wreckage of his home, the place where his father taught him how to work steel, where his mother sang him to sleep before the sickness took her.
Then forward.
To whatever came next.
He tightened his grip on the sword.
And nodded.
"We can't stay here," he said. "We go west."
"Why west?" Mara asked.
Kael looked at the mountains.
And the shadows rising beyond them.
"I can feel it...We should be heading towards west."
Continue to chapter V...