The storm raged inside Kael, a living thing, clawing at his ribs, howling for release.
But beneath the fury—*deeper*—something else stirred.
A memory.
Not his.
*Older.*
—Twenty Years Ago—
A child's laughter echoed through the halls of Stormhold Keep.
Kael—*young, untouched by lightning*—chased his sister Mira through the vaulted corridors, their bare feet slapping against cold stone.
"You'll never catch me!" she teased, darting around a pillar.
Kael lunged—
And tripped.
His knee scraped against the floor, blood welling. He bit back a cry.
Mira skidded to a stop, her grin fading. "Kael?"
Before she could reach him, a shadow fell over them both.
Their father.
Lord Tyrus Stormblood.
A man with lightning in his eyes.
He knelt, his calloused fingers brushing Kael's wound. "Pain is a lesson," he murmured. "Remember it."
Then—
His palm *glowed.*
Kael's skin *stitched* itself back together.
Mira gasped. "Will I be able to do that too?"
Tyrus's smile was sad. "No, little storm. That gift belongs to your brother alone."**
Kael frowned. "Why?"
Tyrus hesitated. Then, softly: **"Because you are the *lock.*"
A door creaked open down the hall.
A man in imperial armor stepped into the light.
Kael's blood ran cold.
*Rykel.*
Younger. Unscarred.
But unmistakable.
"Lord Tyrus," Rykel said smoothly. "The Emperor requests your presence."
Tyrus's jaw tightened. "I've already refused his *offer*."
Rykel's smile didn't reach his eyes. "It wasn't a request."
Then—
*Darkness.*
Kael *wrenched* himself free of the memory, gasping.
He was on his knees in the mud, the storm writhing beneath his skin.
Lysara crouched in front of him, her hands gripping his face. "Kael! *Look at me!*"
His vision swam.
The past and present blurred.
"My father," he rasped. "He—he knew. About the relics. About *me.*"
Sera's voice cut through the haze. "Of course he did. Tyrus Stormblood was the last true heir of the storm. The Emperor tried to *break* him—just like he's trying to break you."
Kael's head pounded. "Why?"
Lysara's grip tightened. "Because your bloodline isn't just a vessel for the storm. It's the *only thing that can control it.*"
The Stormblade snarled in his mind.
*"Lies. You were born to *free* the storm—not cage it!"*
Kael's fingers dug into the earth.
He didn't know what to believe.
But he knew one thing:
The Emperor had taken *everything* from him.
His father.
His sister.
His *humanity.*
And now?
Now, he would take something in return.
—The Emperor's Fear—
Sera yanked him upright. "Listen to me. The Emperor isn't just afraid of the storm—he's afraid of *you.*"
Kael's lightning flickered. **"Why?"
"Because you're the only one who can wield the relics without being consumed,"** she hissed. "The Stormblade, the Shadowcrown—they *obey* you. The Emperor? He needs machines to contain their power. But you? You *are* the power."
The Stormblade laughed.
*"She's almost right. But she misses the best part."*
Kael's voice was hollow. "What part?"
*"The Emperor doesn't just fear you."*
A pause.
*"He *made* you."*
Another memory—sharp as a knife.
A laboratory.
White walls. Cold steel.
A child—*Kael*—strapped to a table, screaming as lightning *burned* through his veins.
A man in gold robes watched, his face hidden behind a mask.
The Emperor.
"Remarkable," he murmured. "The others died within seconds. But this one…"
He leaned closer.
"This one *holds* it."
Then—
A woman's voice, desperate:
"Stop! He's just a boy!"
Kael's mother.
The Emperor didn't even glance at her.
"He is a *weapon,*" he corrected. "And weapons do not weep."
A snap of his fingers.
A blade flashed.
Kael's mother *screamed*—
Then *silence.*
The Emperor turned back to Kael.
"You will learn to obey."
Kael's vision went red.
The memory *shattered.*
Kael staggered, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
*It wasn't real. It couldn't be.*
But the storm inside him *knew.*
It *remembered.*
And it was *pissed.*
Lysara's voice was frantic. "Kael, *talk* to me—"
He didn't answer.
Couldn't.
The truth was too loud.
The Emperor hadn't just hunted the Stormbloods.
He had *bred* them.
Experimented on them.
Killed them when they failed.
And Kael?
Kael was the *only one who survived.*
Sera's hand clamped onto his shoulder. "We need to move. The Empire's scouts will have heard that explosion."
Kael didn't move.
His voice was a whisper.
"Did you know?"
Sera froze. "Know what?"
"About the experiments."
Her silence was answer enough.
Lysara's eyes widened. "Sera…?"
Sera's jaw tightened. "I knew the Emperor was trying to replicate the Stormblood lineage. I didn't know *you* were part of it."
The Stormblade *crooned.*
*"She's lying. They *all* lie."*
Kael's lightning flared.
"Who else knew?"
Sera hesitated. Then—
"Your father."
The world *stopped.*
Kael's voice was deadly quiet.
"Explain."
Sera exhaled sharply. "Tyrus discovered the Emperor's experiments. He tried to stop them. That's why the Empire came for him. That's why Stormhold *fell.*"
Another memory—
*Fire. Screams. His father's sword, slick with blood, as he shoved Kael and Mira into a hidden passage.*
"Run."
Then the door *slammed* shut.
Kael's hands shook.
All these years, he thought his father died defending their home.
But now?
Now he knew the truth.
Tyrus Stormblood hadn't just been a lord.
He'd been a *revolutionary.*
And the Emperor had murdered him for it.
—The Vow Renewed—
The storm inside Kael *roared.*
It was time.
Time to finish what his father started.
Time to burn the Empire to the ground.
He turned to Lysara.
"Where's the third relic?"
She paled. "Kael, you can't—"
"*Where?*"
Sera answered for her.
"The Emberguard is in the capital. In the Emperor's vault."
Kael's lips curled into a smile.
Perfect.
He'd take the relic.
And then?
Then he'd take the Emperor's *head.*