Kael's lungs seared as he ran through the streets of Draymoor, his legs screaming with each pounding step. Fear drove him forward, harder than he believed possible. His heart thundered so loudly it was as if it would explode. The ring pulsed in his hand, the metal burning his skin as if it were alive.
The streets merged together — red brick walls, twisted signs, pools of greasy water — none of that mattered. All that mattered was escaping.
Mira's words replayed inside his head.
"Find your power, Kael. Or they'll find it for you."
A collision echoed behind him. Heavy footfalls pounded the stone, nearer than before. They weren't quitting.
He swore under his breath and plunged into a thin crevice between two buildings. His shoulder grated on rough brick, but he didn't hesitate. He pushed through and staggered onto a less busy street. He braced himself against the wall, chest panting, attempting to listen.
Silence.
Had he lost them?
His hand shook as he unfolded his palm, gazing at the ring. It seemed normal again — dull, silver, and unobtrusive. But it wasn't. He could sense it vibrating, like something repressed and biding its time underneath.
"A tether to a forgotten throne."
Mira's words didn't compute. A dominion? The King of Emotions? It was a tale — something children hushed to frighten one another. But the terror in Mira's voice had been genuine. And so was the man who crashed through her door.
Kael gulped. He was in need of assistance. Mira was lost — perhaps worse. He had nowhere else to turn.
Except for one location.
The docks.
Jareth.
Kael didn't trust many folks in Draymoor, but Jareth commanded the smuggling gangs along the river. He owed Kael a couple of favors. Possibly enough to remove him from the city.
Kael walked quickly, staying close to the walls. The streets seemed off now — too quiet. As if the entire city was waiting silently. The sun was setting, casting long, crawling shadows behind it.
He arrived at the docks just as twilight fell into darkness. The stench of the river filled his nostrils, pungent and familiar. But something else struck him, too — the wrongness in the air.
The docks were deserted.
No smugglers. No dockworkers. No Jareth.
Only silence.
Kael's gut knotted. He took a slow, careful step forward — and stopped.
Two men stepped out of the darkness beside a pile of barrels. Both were dressed in dark leather, the silver symbol on their chests unmistakable: a broken crown encircled in chains. One was huge — thick arms, scarred knuckles. The other was spindly and wiry, his hood thrown back to show a pale, thin face and cold, pitiless eyes.
"Planning on going somewhere, boy?" the thin one drawled, voice low and lazy.
Kael's throat parched. His mind yelled at him to run, but his legs wouldn't obey.
The big one moved in a step. "Turn over the ring. Perhaps we'll let you walk away."
Kael's fist closed harder on the band. He didn't know why. It wasn't as if he could fight them off. But surrendering the ring felt all wrong — letting go of something of himself.
"I… I don't have it," he stuttered.
The lean man cocked his head, wolf-like grin on his face. "Lie again. See what happens."
Kael's heart pounded against his chest. He couldn't outrun them. He couldn't fight them.
"Find your power, Kael."
The ember within him flared once more, this time warmer. He had no idea what he was doing — didn't even know that he was trying to do anything — but he concentrated on the sensation. On the ring.
The giant charged.
Kael didn't think. His arm extended reflexively.
The ring blazed.
Power slammed out of him, unseen and unstopable. It struck the man with the force of a hammer. His body seized in the middle of a step, his muscles locking. His eyes became wide and full of horror.
The world stood still for a heartbeat.
Then the man screamed.
It wasn't human. It was naked, animal pain. He collapsed like a rock, holding his head, his screams ringing across the vacant docks.
Kael watched in amazement, his hand shaking.
The thin man's smirk disappeared. His eyes went cold and sharp.
"What did you do?" he said, his voice low and dangerous.
"I… I don't know," Kael choked out.
The man's expression darkened. He reached for the dagger on his hip.
Kael didn't stick around to see what happened next. He ran.
His legs ached, his lungs were on fire, but he did not cease. He ran down the closest dock, feet pounding the weathered wooden planks.
The reed-thin man's voice sliced through the darkness like a knife.
"You can't hide forever, Kael. The King will reclaim his throne."
Kael didn't glance behind him. He merely ran.