By dawn, the Blackthorn estate was nothing but a skeleton of stone and smoke.
Kael sat on a cracked marble stair, soot smeared across his face, arms wrapped around his knees. The cellar had held, but barely. When they'd emerged, the world above looked like the aftermath of a siege — not the simple raid it had been in the novel.
That's what scared him the most.
This was different.
In the book, the bandits had left after taking the heir. A small fire, a handful of bodies. Tragic, yes, but calculated.
This? This was slaughter. The stables were ash. The east wing had collapsed. The heir — Teren Blackthorn — was alive, thanks to Kael's warning reaching Seren, who reached him. But dozens were dead. Even people who weren't supposed to die yet.
The timeline was cracking.
Seren approached him slowly, wrapping a shawl around her shoulders. Her face was pale but focused. "You were right."
Kael said nothing. What could he say?
She sat beside him. "You saved my life."
"I tried to save more," he whispered. "I thought if I acted early, I could… I could control it."
Seren tilted her head, watching him carefully. "Control what?"
Kael hesitated. He wasn't ready to tell her everything — not yet.
Instead, he looked out over the courtyard, where the family's banner still fluttered weakly. "Fate."
There was silence between them for a moment. Then, Thorne approached with a grim expression.
"The Count is dead. Teren's the new Lord Blackthorn."
Kael's breath caught. That wasn't supposed to happen. In the book, Count Blackthorn was wounded but survived long enough to summon political aid. Now, with him dead and Teren barely fourteen, the family was exposed.
Thorne continued, "There's a summons going out. Teren will be escorted to the capital for protection… and training. They're gathering a small group to accompany him. Seren's going too."
Kael felt it like a pull in his gut. The capital. That's where the real story began. Where the original protagonist — Rowan Everfall — was studying magic and warcraft. Where kingdoms moved behind velvet curtains and knives gleamed in shadow.
He looked up. "Am I going?"
Thorne raised an eyebrow. "The new Lord insists on it. Said you're under his personal protection. Called you a hero."
Kael almost laughed. Not because it was funny — but because it was impossible.
He was supposed to die in Chapter 3. Instead, he was heading to the capital.
To the heart of the story.
And whatever was waiting there, it wasn't the plot he remembered.