The world had burned once.
Kael Thorn remembered it.
Not as a storr or a lesson scrawled in some forgotten tome, but as a living, breathing thing. He had been a boy then, barely tall enough to reach his father's waist, standing in the ruins of a battlefield where the earth itself had been scorched black. The air had reeked of charred flesh and molten stone, and the sky, stars blotted out by smoke, had wept ash for days.
That was the day he'd first felt the fire in his chest.
Now, decades later, kneeling in the cold marble halls of the Grand Magnus Academy, Kael Thorn felt nothing.
No heat or even spark. No ember waiting to catch flame.
The Council's chamber was a mausoleum of power. High ceilings arched like the ribs of some long-dead beast, their surfaces etched with the names of mages who had shaped the world with will and flame. The air hummed with residual magic, thick and cloying, like incense at a funeral. At the center of it all, seated atop a dais of black obsidian, was High Magister Elira Vann.
Her golden hair was bound tight, her robes the color of dried blood. She regarded Kael with eyes like frosted glass, unreadable.
"You're weaker than I remember, Thorn."
Kael didn't flinch. His hands, resting on his knees, were steady. But the absence of fire in his veins was a wound that refused to close.
"You're not here to reminisce, Elira."
A murmur rippled through the gathered Magisters. Some shifted in their seats, their robes whispering like snakes. Others watched him with barely concealed disdain, as if his very presence was an affront to their polished perfection.
Elira's lips thinned. "No. We're here to discuss your son."
The word son struck like a blade.
Eryk.
The boy who had once clung to his leg, wide-eyed and laughing. The boy who had traced his fingers over Kael's scars and asked, "Did it hurt?" The boy who had looked at him with such hope, such need, before the Academy had carved it all away.
Now, that boy was hollow.
Spellbreaker.
Kael's jaw tightened. "What of him?"
Elira leaned forward, her fingers steepled. "He's a threat. A walking abomination. The Null Grimoire has chosen him, Kael. You felt what it did to you. Imagine that power unleashed upon the world."
He didn't need to imagine.
The memory was still fresh, the way his fire had been ripped from his chest, siphoned away into the void that now lived inside his own child. The way Eryk had looked at him afterward, not with triumph, but with horror.
"I didn't want to."
Kael exhaled slowly.
"What do you propose?"
"Elimination." Elira's smile was a razor's edge. "The same thing we do with all mistakes."
The unspoken words hung in the air. They were heavier than chains.
Kael's fingers twitched. Once, they would have sparked. Once, he would have burned this entire chamber to the ground for daring to speak of his son that way.
But now?
Now he had no fire left to give.
"No."
The word was quiet, but it cut through the chamber like a knife.
Elira's brow arched. "No?"
Kael rose to his full height, his shadow stretching long across the marble floor. "You don't touch him."
A beat of silence. Then laughter. A cold, mocking laughter. It came from the far end of the table, where Magister Dain, a man with a face like carved stone and a voice like gravel, leaned back in his chair.
"Sentimentality doesn't suit you, Thorn. Not after what he did to you."
Kael's gaze didn't waver. "This isn't sentiment."
"Then what is it?" Elira asked.
Pride.
The unshakable, unforgivable truth that I failed him.
Kael didn't say any of that. Instead, he turned toward the chamber's great doors, his boots echoing like a death knell against the stone.
"It's mine to handle."
Elira's voice chased him. "And if you fail?"
Kael paused at the threshold, the weight of the question pressing against his spine.
"Then burn us both."
~○~
The streets of Veldros were alive with whispers.
"Spellbreaker."
"Hollowborn."
"Monster."
The words slithered from shadowed alleys and crowded taverns, carried on lips stained with wine and fear. Kael moved through them like a ghost, his cloak pulled tight against the evening chill. The city had always been a living thing, pulsing with magic and ambition, but now it felt different.
It was hunted.
He knew the signs. The way merchants averted their eyes when he passed. The way children were pulled indoors a little too quickly. The way the air itself seemed to thicken with anticipation, as if the world was holding its breath.
They were afraid.
Of Eryk.
Of what he'd become.
And, perhaps, of what Kael might do next.
A figure stepped into his path. A woman with her face hidden beneath a hood, her hands tucked into the sleeves of her robe. The sigil on her chest marked her as one of the Black Tongues, the Council's enforcers.
"Thorn." Her voice was smooth. "You're needed."
Kael didn't stop. "Not interested."
She matched his stride effortlessly. "The High Magister was very clear."
"Then let her be clearer."
The woman's hand shot out, gripping his arm. Her fingers were cold, and her grip was unyielding. "Don't make this difficult."
Kael looked down at her hand, then up at her face. His voice dropped to a whisper.
"Let go."
For a heartbeat, she hesitated. Then, slowly, she released him.
"You can't protect him forever," she murmured.
Kael's smile was a blade. "Watch me."
~○~
The Ashen District welcomed him like an old enemy.
The air here was thicker, laced with the scent of damp rot and desperation. The buildings leaned against one another like drunkards, their windows boarded up, their doors hanging crooked on rusted hinges. This was where the forgotten came to die.
And now, it was where his son had learned to live.
Kael's boots crunched over broken glass as he approached the Hollowed Hearth. The tavern's sign swayed in the wind, its paint peeling like dead skin. Inside, the air was thick with smoke and the low murmur of voices that died the moment he stepped through the door.
All eyes turned to him.
Narliya stood behind the bar, her arms crossed, her expression unreadable. She didn't look surprised to see him.
"You're late," she said.
Kael ignored the stares and Narliya's words. He strode to the bar and dropped onto a stool, the wood groaning beneath his weight.
"Where is he?"
Narliya studied him for a long moment, then slid a mug of something dark and pungent across the counter. "Gone."
"Where?"
"East."
Kael's fingers tightened around the mug. "Alone?"
"No." Narliya's lips twitched. "The girl went with him."
Sera.
Kael exhaled. Some small, foolish part of him had hoped Eryk would come home. That he'd crawl back to Chishiro, broken and begging for forgiveness.
But that wasn't who Eryk was anymore.
That boy was gone.
"Why?" Kael asked, the word rough in his throat. "Why help him?"
Narliya leaned forward, her voice dropping. "Because no one else will."
The truth of it settled over him like a shroud.
Kael pushed the mug away and stood. "Tell me how to find him."
Narliya's gaze didn't waver. "Why?"
Because he's my son.
Because I need to see his face when I ask him why.
Kael didn't say any of that. Instead, he turned toward the door.
"Because I'm the only one who can."
~○~
The road west was darker than Kael remembered.
Not for lack of light, but for the guilt that weighed him down, for the silence that followed him like a second shadow. The forest receded behind him, as if relieved to see him go. Whatever he'd touched back there, lingered in his bones like frost.
By the time the cliffs broke and their home came into view, dawn had stained the sky a bruised purple. Smoke curled gently from the chimney, and the outline of the cottage softened in the rising mist. For a moment, Kael just stood there, the wind tugging at his cloak, daring him to keep walking.
He pushed the door open quietly, but the creak betrayed him.
Liora, his wife, was in the kitchen, wrapped in a shawl, a candle flickering beside her. Her head turned sharply at the sound, and her lips curved when she saw him.
"Where have you been?" she asked. "You said you'd only visit the Academy. One day, Kael. Not five."
Kael closed the door behind him slowly, resting his hand against it like he needed its strength. His shoulders sagged.
"I'm sorry."
"How is he?" she asked, stepping closer. "How is my lovely little Eryk?"
Kael swallowed hard. "He's... good."
Liora's breath caught. "And?"
"He's doing great in the Academy."
"Did he pass the trials?" asked Liora with her lips still curving. "Bet he burned the Academy with his will! Did his hollow core fill with a mana already?"
Kaek hesitated on his stand. "Y-Yeah! Yeah. He's doing great in the Academy. We spent together in the chamber fighting, father and son."
"You what?!" The disgrace on Liora's face had filled her when he heard what her hunsband told her. Then he averted her gazed on him, praying like a mantis. "I hope my little Eryk is okay."
Then Liora went through Kael's stand and pinched his ear as mush as he could.
Kael wanted to remove it there but he couldn't anymore, especially when Liora started walking.
"You are not doing it again, Kael Thorn!" she shouted on him. "Your son's power is not as what you have! He's a child and he is your son!"
Liora removed her fingers on him.
"I'm sorry..." Kael said. He's now praying for his life. "I just wanted to know if he got his power already."
Liora looked at him angrily. "You just need a mana resonator if you wanted to see his power, you fool!"
Kael exhaled. Not only from the things that is hunting him, but for the moment he lied on his wife.
Kael sat on the couch. "The Council wanted me to join their mission. There is a threat, not only in the Academy. But also in the city. In the whole world."
Liora looked at him furiously. "And don't tell me you—" Kael didn't flinch. "You joined the mission?!!!"
"I have to, Liora," said Kael. "I'm protecting you," he said, voice low. "Both of you. Ypu and Eryk."
"I don't need protecting."
He stood up, stepped toward her, slowly. "The truth will send you running into the fire. And I can't lose you, Liora. I can't lose Eryk either..."
Liora stared at him, searching his face. "You look like you haven't slept in years."
Kael tried to smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "It's only been days."
She cupped his face in her hands, thumbing the dark circles beneath his eyes. "You didn't come home—not really. You're still out there, somewhere."
"I'm trying," he said hoarsely.
Liora leaned in, brushing her lips against his. "Then come back to me."
Her kiss deepened—gentle at first, then anchoring, as if willing the pieces of him to return. He exhaled sharply, the weight of it all melting in the warmth of her arms.
Later, in the stillness of their bed, Kael lay with her curled beside him, her breath steady against his chest. Her hand rose and fell with every breath he took, as if silently assuring herself he was truly there.