The pain hit him like a storm. His chest was on fire, every breath a labor, every heartbeat a brutal reminder that life was slipping away. The ground beneath him was slick with his blood, and the scent of iron mixed with the smoke from the burning village in the distance.
But none of that mattered. The only thing that mattered was **her**.
Her.
**Alina**.
The woman Kaelen had sworn to protect. The one he had bled for, fought for, and—most painfully—loved with all the devotion his heart could give. His hands shook as he reached out to her, his vision already clouding.
*"Why?"* His voice cracked, barely a whisper. *"Why, Alina?"*
She looked down at him, kneeling beside him, her expression cold, almost empty. Her hands—his hands—were covered in his blood. His life's blood. Her lips parted, and for a moment, Kaelen thought she would say something that would make it all make sense. Something that would explain why everything he had ever known, everything he had ever trusted, was suddenly gone.
*"I'm sorry,"* she murmured, her voice distant, mechanical. "I never loved you. I never could."
The words pierced through him sharper than the sword she had driven into his heart. The sword he had forged for her. The sword that had been meant for battles in her name, for her protection, for their future together.
But no. He had been nothing more than a tool. A weapon to be discarded when it no longer served her.
*"No..."* His voice was barely a breath now, his fingers trembling in the dirt. His vision was fading. The world was becoming a blur of smoke and shadow. He wanted to scream. To shout. But what was the point? Everything—everything he had believed in—had just shattered. The woman he had fought for had taken his life with a smile on her face.
*"Please…"* His thoughts were slipping, spinning. He had to say something. Had to understand.
But Alina only stared at him. Her gaze was distant, like she had already moved on. As if his death was nothing but an inconvenience.
She turned away, her back to him. And with that, Kaelen's world went black.
---
**The Void**
When he awoke, it wasn't to the quiet peace of death. No, death was supposed to be calm, supposed to take you in with open arms. But this was… this was something else.
He felt himself falling. Not in a physical sense, but in his soul. Like he was being pulled through an endless void. It was cold. Empty. There were no sounds, no sights—only the dark and the gnawing silence.
What was this? Was he dead? Had he… failed?
*"You are not dead, knight."* The voice broke through the void, so deep, so ancient it felt like it came from the very core of the universe itself.
His body tensed. His eyes snapped open, but there was nothing to see. No light, no figure. Just the voice, echoing in his mind.
"You have been chosen. You are to rise again. A second chance. But know this—your emotions will be the key to your power. Love, betrayal, sacrifice, loyalty... they will fuel you. But beware. Each choice you make will change you. Each emotion will consume you."
He wanted to scream. *"Why? Why me?"* He didn't want this. He didn't ask for this. All he wanted was to protect, to love. But it was all ripped away.
*"Because you are the one who will decide. Will you be the hero this world needs, or will you be the one to destroy it?"*
There was no answer, no resolution. Only silence.
And then, suddenly, he was *aware*. A deep, aching awareness that he was not alone in the darkness. He could feel something. Not around him, but within him. A weight. A pressure. A burden that pressed down on his chest, even as his mind swirled with confusion.
And amidst the chaos of his thoughts, one thing stood out: the raw, burning fury in his chest. The betrayal. Alina's face, her voice, the way she had turned her back on him. And in that moment, it wasn't just the pain of losing her that cut deep. It was the loss of everything he thought he was.
He wasn't just broken. He was **reborn**. A new life had been given to him, but at a cost.
The question now wasn't how to survive.
It was *who* he would become.