Far beyond the Ashen Peaks, where the skies had not yet tasted fire, the winds shifted. Somewhere, deep in the continent's core, a bell rang—an ancient, magical toll long silent.
Its peal traveled through leylines and storm currents, past kingdoms and buried ruins, until it reached ears both mortal and divine.
Maldrakar had fallen.
And with him, the first certainty of the Demon Lord's dominion.
In the crystalline towers of Aetherhold, where the world's ruling magical elite resided, alarms flared in every spire. Cloaked figures assembled in a hallowed chamber etched in glowing runes.
Twelve mages, one for each of the ruling provinces, stood in silence around a floating orb of molten light. Within its swirling depths was an image that made even the eldest among them go pale:
A boy with blue eyes and black hair. Sovereign flame in his hands.
"He's alive," murmured Archmagus Varun, his long beard singed by his own defensive spells. "The Sovereign… The Forgotten Child."
"This cannot be," spat Lady Merelis of the Southern Courts. "The seal should have erased all trace of him. His existence was a threat to our order."
"The seal was tampered with," another said grimly. "The child's magic was bound on noble orders. But it was never truly destroyed."
A cold silence followed. Then a voice—aged, rasping, ancient even by their standards—broke it:
"The Demon Lord moved against him because he feared him. That alone speaks volumes."
The orb flickered again. Maldrakar's body lay smoldering beneath the peaks. Unmoving. Broken.
The implication struck them all at once:
The balance was shifting.
Elsewhere, deep within the ruins of an old order, the Sentinels—those who had once enforced the sealing of Kael—received the word in silence.
"Impossible," said one.
"A Sovereign child destroyed the Ash General," whispered another.
"He was supposed to die."
"And now?"
A third Sentinel—robed in shadow, face unseen—spoke without emotion:
"Now, he must be unmade. Entirely."
They bowed their heads, the decision unspoken but shared. The Sovereign child could not be allowed to rise further.
Far beneath blackened skies, the Demon Lord watched through a mirror of soulglass.
He had seen Maldrakar fall. He had seen the flame return.
His fingers twitched at the edge of the armrest—first with annoyance… then with dark, glimmering amusement.
"So… the boy rises."
A claw traced a burning line through the air.
"He survived the seal. He crushed my knight. But has he survived the price?"
Beside him, a figure cloaked in red shadows knelt. "Shall I intervene, my lord?"
"Not yet," the Demon Lord murmured. "Let the world stir. Let them remember what they forsook. And then—when they reach for hope—"
His smile twisted, inhuman and terrible.
"—we extinguish it."
Kael stood at the edge of the mountain's outer path, watching dawn break for the first time in what felt like years.
Birds cautiously returned. Light filtered through the trees. The fires were gone—but his heart still burned.
Behind him, Sylara lay resting. Eva sat polishing her staff, occasionally stealing glances at him.
"You know," she said finally, "your face is going to be everywhere soon."
Kael turned. "What do you mean?"
"You think no one noticed you took down Maldrakar? That kind of power echoes across the leylines. The whole continent probably felt it. You've just declared war—on the Demon Lord, the Sentinels, and the Council."
Kael blinked, then exhaled. "Good."
Eva laughed, startled. "You're not afraid?"
He shook his head. "They're the ones who should be."
Later that night, Kael sat with Sylara by the fire. He had questions—so many—but one in particular burned on his tongue.
"When you first found me," he said quietly, "why didn't you turn away like the others?"
Sylara looked at him with eyes older than the world.
"Because I saw something no one else could. Not the absence of power—but the presence of something deeper. A Sovereign's soul, shackled by fear."
She paused, then added:
"And because, Kael, your story was never meant to end in silence. Only begin there."
In a hidden place, veiled in twilight, a young girl with silver hair and eyes like the stars traced Kael's name into the air.
She smiled faintly.
"Finally," she whispered. "You've begun to remember."