Kael didn't move. He barely even breathed.
The name Sylas Kaine hung in the air like a curse, whispered by the men at the nearby table. It shouldn't exist in this world. Not in this reborn reality, where the Well of Eternity had been destroyed.
Yet here it was. Spoken. Remembered.
Lyra's fingers twitched toward her dagger, her silver eyes darkening. She met Kael's gaze, a silent question passing between them.
Do we confront them?
Kael exhaled slowly, forcing his grip to loosen. Not yet. He turned his attention to the table behind them, listening carefully.
"...I'm telling you, it's not just a rumor," a gruff voice muttered. "I saw him with my own eyes. The man hasn't aged a day."
"You sure it was him?" another voice asked. "Sylas Kaine was just a legend from the old world. No one believes that nonsense anymore."
"I know what I saw," the first voice insisted. "He was in the ruins east of here. People are saying he's looking for something—some power that was lost when the gods disappeared."
Kael's blood ran cold. Sylas survived.
The Well of Eternity was gone. The power of gods had been erased. But if Sylas was searching for something, then it meant he still had a plan.
Lyra leaned closer. "We need to move."
Kael nodded. They had to find him before he found whatever he was looking for.
Before history repeated itself.
---
As they left the tavern, the sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows over the city. Kael felt the weight of the past pressing down on him. He had wanted a fresh start, a life without cosmic battles and impossible choices.
But the past wasn't done with him yet.
And neither was Sylas Kaine.