Kael took a step forward; the crunch of bones and rubble beneath his bare feet echoed through the deathly silence. The corpses were fresh—still warm, still twitching. Some wore armor, others robes. None bore the same crest. Whoever they were, they had come to kill each other.
Or him.
His fingers brushed his chest. No wounds. No blood. Only the dried red stains of others. And yet, he remembered no fight. No names. No faces. Only instincts sharp enough to make his vision pulse with every movement in the dark.
Something had brought him here.Something was still calling.
He followed the pull deeper into the ruins. It had once been a temple—he recognized the structure by the way broken columns rose like pleading hands, the cracked murals on the walls showing winged figures with swords and halos burned black. A god had died here. Or had been forgotten.
His hunger pulsed—not for blood. He had tasted that moments ago. It hadn't satisfied him.
This was deeper.
His eyes adjusted as he entered what remained of the main sanctuary. Moonlight filtered through a shattered dome, lighting a stone altar scorched by fire. A figure knelt at its base.
Not dead.
Alive.
Female.
Kael didn't speak. He moved like a shadow, silent and patient. Closer. Closer...
Her voice sliced the air.
"I wondered when you'd wake up."
Kael froze.
She stood without turning. Her hair was long, dark as the void, falling over torn ceremonial robes. Her back was straight, unafraid. Either she didn't know who he was—or she did, and didn't care.
"You smell of old blood and new sin," she said.
"And you stink of death," Kael replied, voice rough but steady. "Why are you here?"
Then she turned, and Kael saw her face—half burned, one eye white as milk. A silver oracle's mark was tattooed on her forehead.
"To see what came crawling back from the grave."
Kael tilted his head. "You know me?"
"I knew what you were. Once. Before the throne was empty. Before the sun betrayed the bloodline."
The words struck something inside him. Like an echo of pain buried deep.
You are cursed, Kael Duskveil. And you shouldn't be here.
He stepped forward—faster than sight. In a blink, his hand wrapped around her throat, lifting her off the ground.
"Say my name. You know things I don't. Start talking."
She didn't resist. Her white eye stared into his, unblinking.
"Your blood will burn kingdoms."
"I need answers. Not riddles."
"Then drink."
She bit her wrist and raised it.
Kael hesitated. Her blood smelled wrong. Not human. Not vampiric. It was something... older. But the hunger burned, roaring in his bones. This was what had called him. Not the bodies. Not the temple.
Her.
He sank his fangs into her wrist.
The visions struck him.
—A throne of veins and ash.—A sunless sky tearing open.—His own hands ripping out a god's heart.—The Veil screaming.
Kael let her go, staggering back. His mouth was full of fire and memories. She gasped, clutching her wrist, bleeding silver.
"You're not cursed," she whispered. "You're chosen."
Kael looked down. His hands glowed—red lines pulsing under his skin.
Behind him, something growled.It wasn't beast.It wasn't man.
Something else had awakened.