"No more running. Not from them. Not from my past. Not from who I am."
Kael's voice echoed in the cavern, resolute.
The rift spell had delivered them far from Velinar—deep into the forgotten caverns beneath the Ashen Peaks. The air was thick with old magic, and glowing roots pulsed with life across the stone walls. A great underground tree coiled up through the earth like a titan's spine.
There, in the heart of this ancient place, stood Sylara.
Her massive body shimmered in the soft glow of the cavern light—dark blue scales, silver mane flowing down her back, wings tucked like a slumbering tempest. Her green eyes met Kael's the moment he and Eva emerged from the spell.
"You've awakened." Her voice was deep, calm, and warm like embers under snow. "The seal has fallen."
Kael nodded, his breath still uneven from the battle. "They came for me. The Sentinels."
Sylara narrowed her eyes. "Of course they did. They fear what you'll become. They always have."
The Burden of Power
Eva leaned against a stone outcropping, clutching her side. "He held his own. But the power's still too wild. He nearly burned the court to ash."
Kael turned, guilt and fire in his eyes. "I didn't lose control." He paused. "But I almost did."
Sylara stepped forward, each footfall quiet despite her immense frame. "It is not the power that makes a Sovereign. It is the will to choose how that power is used."
Kael looked up at her. "That's why I'm done running."
Eva raised a brow. "You're still injured. They'll hunt you again. We need time—training, allies, strategy."
Kael's fists clenched. "And what happens while we wait? How many more children like me will be sealed? How many more will be cast away or twisted by fear?"
Sylara lowered her head. "So you've chosen to fight."
He met her gaze. "I have. Even if I don't fully understand this power yet. Even if the world still sees me as a mistake. I will fight—for those like me, for those who don't have a voice. For what was taken from me."
A deep rumble echoed from Sylara—approval.
"Then you must become more than a survivor," she said. "You must become a Sovereign not just in name, but in strength, spirit, and soul."
Forging a Path Forward
Sylara led them deeper into the sanctuary, to an ancient chamber carved by the first Sovereigns. Floating stones circled a forgotten pedestal, and relics from a lost age hummed with dormant power.
"This place once belonged to those who defied the heavens," she explained. "This will be your crucible, Kael."
He stepped forward, the magic of the chamber reaching for him. Not rejecting him. Not fearing him.
But recognizing him.
Sylara raised her claw and tapped the ground. A training circle flared to life. "We begin now. You must master not only what lies within—but learn how to shape it. How to command it without letting it consume you."
Kael exhaled slowly. "And the Sentinels?"
Eva stepped beside him, a flicker of fire in her eyes. "They'll return. But this time, we'll be ready."
Sylara added, "And the Demon Lord will sense your rise. He will not ignore it for long. His minions are already moving."
Kael didn't flinch. "Then let them come."
The Choice Echoes
That night, Kael stood alone before the Sovereigns' relics, their ancient runes flickering like stars.
He remembered the forest, the hunger, the pain, the cold.
He remembered being left to die.
He remembered waking beneath Sylara's wings.
And now, he stood as something the world had forgotten to fear.
Not a child.
Not a mistake.
Not a weapon.
A Sovereign.
And he had chosen to fight.