The Dread King's army moved silently through the night, cloaked in the veil of dark magic. But Kael was not leading a war this night—he was delivering a decree.
At the summit chamber of the Council of Nations, the torches dimmed as Kael appeared before them again—this time not as a threat, but as a ruler.
"I offer no parley," Kael said, his voice a storm barely restrained. "I give only one order. All demi-human slaves within your kingdoms will be brought to my lands. Immediately."
Murmurs rose, then defiance.
A dwarf elder stood. "They are property, purchased by law—"
Kael's gaze silenced him. "You bought lives. I'm reclaiming them."
"The loss would destabilize our economy!" cried a merchant king.
"Then your economy will bleed," Kael growled. "As mine once did."
Lightning danced in his eyes. Eclipse placed a hand on her sword. Luna's eyes were fixed on the humans in the chamber like a wolf waiting to lunge.
Kael's cape lifted with unseen wind, his presence now almost divine.
"You have one week. After that, I will come. And I will not be asking."
He turned and vanished into shadow.
Back in the throne room of Dreadhold, Kael sat in silence. His eyes lingered on a portrait recently hung—drawn by a village child. It showed him smiling.
He wasn't sure how to feel about it.
Luna approached, gently placing a cup of steaming tea in his hand.
"You're changing," she said softly.
Kael looked into the cup. "I don't know if that's good."
Eclipse leaned against a pillar. "You're becoming more human. That terrifies them."
Kael looked up. "Then let them tremble. But let the innocent live free."
For the first time in decades, he felt something stir inside him—hope, perhaps. Or something more dangerous.
Forgiveness.
Meanwhile, in the Ivory Citadel…
Princess Lyra sat before the fire, her fingers clenched around an old, dusty portrait of a young boy with silver eyes.
"That was him," she whispered. "My brother."
Seraphine nodded grimly. "He's not the same anymore."
"But he didn't lie," Lyra said. "We knew. Father knew. And he still left him behind."
"You cannot carry the sins of the king, Lyra."
Lyra looked up. "Then who will? Kael suffered for years because no one did."
She rose, the firelight catching the steel of determination in her eyes.
"I will find him again. And I will not let my brother face this world alone."
Seraphine touched her arm gently. "You may break before he lets you in."
"Then let me break," Lyra said. "But not before I try."
In the heart of war, even shattered bloodlines may find a path to healing.