The Long Walk
He walked.
Through frostbitten valleys and rotted kingdoms, where even the wind had grown tired of whispering.
Kael walked without direction. Without purpose.
Not seeking redemption.
Not seeking death.
Just walking—because stopping would mean facing memory fully.
Ghosts Along the Road
The road was long and cruel.
Sometimes, he passed ruins where he once lived—where someone had once called him friend, father, husband.
He saw shadows in windows that no longer existed. Heard echoes of children's laughter in homes long swallowed by ivy and silence.
In one village, an old woman screamed when she saw him.
"You haven't aged a day! You were here when my mother was born!"
In another, a priest tried to stab him through the heart.
Kael didn't fight. He only moved on.
Each step left no imprint.
Like a phantom walking the earth.
A curse bound in flesh.
The Boy in the Rain
Years passed.
Decades, perhaps.
Time lost meaning.
Then one night, under relentless rain in a roadside town of crumbling stone, Kael entered an old tavern to escape the storm.
He didn't plan to stay.
He never did.
But something made him pause.
At the back, by the hearth, sat a boy.
Not a boy—no. A young man, maybe sixteen, with wild brown hair and a scar on his cheek. He held a wooden pendant, familiar and worn.
A dog—one-eared, gray with age—lay curled at his feet.
Kael's heart stopped.
"Ren...?"
The boy looked up.
Brown eyes.
The same eyes.
He stood slowly. "You... remember me?"
Kael crossed the room like a man stepping through a dream. "You're alive."
"I waited," Ren said softly. "After the fire. I waited for days."
"I searched."
"I thought you left," Ren whispered, fists clenched.
"I would never—"
Ren stepped forward and collapsed into him.
Kael froze.
Then he held him.
Tight.
Like a man who had forgotten what it meant to hold something not made of memory.
Rebuilding What Was Lost
They stayed in that town. A broken place, filled with broken people—drunks, widows, orphans, ghosts with skin.
Kael didn't care.
He began to fix the roofs. Ren helped.
Kael lit fires for the cold. Ren taught children how to make toys from straw.
People began to trust again.
To smile.
One night, under clear skies, Kael sat with Ren by the fire.
"I thought I lost you," Kael said.
"You did. But I came back."
Kael stared at the stars.
"Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Don't stay."
Ren frowned. "Why not?"
"Because everyone who stays… ends up buried."
Ren looked away. "Maybe that's okay."
Kael turned sharply.
"I'm not a child anymore," Ren said. "I know the risk. I remember the fire. I remember Eryn. But I also remember you."
Silence.
Ren added, "And maybe… maybe being a memory isn't so bad, if the one who carries it remembers you with love."
Kael had no answer.
Only tears that wouldn't fall.
But Fate Doesn't Sleep
One month passed.
Then two.
They built a garden. A little hut. A doghouse.
Kael smiled more often.
But curses don't forget.
They wait.
The Dream
One night, Kael dreamed of a field of graves.
Thousands.
Millions.
All with names he knew.
At the center stood a shadow—the being that had cursed him.
"You are smiling again," it said.
Kael stepped forward. "He's alive."
"For now."
Kael's fists trembled. "Let him live."
The figure tilted its head. "Your grief feeds me. It is your bond. Break the curse—and forget them all. Names. Faces. Even him."
"I'd rather suffer eternity," Kael whispered, "than forget a single smile."
The being faded, leaving only the sound of Ren calling out in the dark.
"Kael?"
He woke.
And the fire had gone out.
End of Chapter 7