The wind howled across the mountain pass like a wounded beast, carrying with it the scent of rain and ash. Kael stood at the edge of a jagged overlook, his obsidian armor catching the twilight, his crown of thorns humming with latent power. Below, the roads twisted like veins toward the borderlands—toward conflict. Toward home.
Behind him, Eclipse approached silently, Luna flanking his right, her expression unreadable since the council clash.
"You shouldn't have stopped me," Luna murmured, her voice a low rumble of frustration.
"I stopped you," Eclipse said calmly, "because your blade wouldn't have ended the problem—it would've buried it deeper."
Kael raised a hand. "Enough. The Thorns must not devour each other. We are the last line between this world and the chaos it deserves."
There was silence for a beat.
"Then we need to start acting like it," came a voice—one quiet but firm.
They turned to see Thorn #7—Vaelus the Hollow, master of the Wraithwind Domain—step forward, his pale eyes dim as ever. His tone lacked heat, but it carried weight.
"There's division festering beneath our feet," he said. "You know it. We all feel it. If something isn't done, it will swallow us whole."
Kael looked away, to the horizon.
"Then it must begin with me."
In the heart of the Dread Kingdom, Kael summoned the Thorns once again—not in the chamber of spiritfire, but before the Obsidian Flame, where oaths were made and broken only once.
One by one, the Thorns arrived, cloaked in darkness and doubt. Luna's steps were stiff with restraint. Nyzara offered no venom this time—only silent calculation.
"I am your king," Kael said, his voice echoing across the firelit stones. "But that title is not a shield—it is a promise. I have asked for your loyalty, but not earned all your trust. That changes today."
He stepped into the Obsidian Flame.
Pain lanced across his body instantly, fire searing into flesh and soul. The flames recognized no royalty—only resolve.
"If any among you believe me unworthy," he said, gritting his teeth, "then come forward. End this now. Or stand with me—not in silence, but in truth."
None moved.
Even Luna seemed breathless, eyes wide.
Eclipse bowed first. Then Vaelus. Then Nyzara. Then the others, one by one.
"I will not rule by fear," Kael said as he stepped out, smoke trailing from his skin, blood on his lips. "But if you fear anything—let it be the fury I wield against our enemies."
Far beyond, in the capital of Veylor, Lyra returned to the palace, her thoughts a storm. She'd questioned dozens more—runaways, refugees, scholars once exiled for heresy. All their stories, fractured as they were, aligned around one truth:
Her brother was not a villain.
And yet, her father's voice thundered in her memory: "He was a mistake. A curse upon the bloodline."
That night, she stood in her chambers, moonlight draping over her as she opened an old drawer. From within, she pulled a cracked silver locket—a relic of her childhood.
Inside, a faded sketch of a boy with fierce eyes and a quiet smile.
Kael.
Her heart trembled. "What did we do to you?"
Meanwhile, emissaries from the enslaving kingdoms began to arrive at Dreadhold—dragging frightened demi-human captives behind them, chained and bruised.
Kael met them in the Square of Ash, flanked by Luna and Eclipse.
"You were told to return them freely," Kael said, voice like frost. "You chose chains instead."
One envoy smirked. "And what would you have us do, oh King of Ashes? Grovel?"
Kael didn't answer.
He simply raised a hand.
The envoy was crushed in a singular wave of gravity magic, bones snapping, screams cut short. The others fell to their knees.
"Let the world understand," Kael said coldly. "Mercy is not weakness. But defiance—"
He crushed another man with a flick of his wrist.
"—is not tolerated."
That night, as the wind howled once more, Kael returned to his chambers. Luna found him there, seated at the edge of his massive throne, crown askew, eyes dark.
"You did what had to be done," she said.
"I know," he whispered.
"But it still hurts," Luna added, softer now. "You still feel it, don't you?"
Kael nodded, barely.
"It's the roads between us," he said. "The ones burned, the ones we never took. They ache."
"You can still walk them," she said gently.
He looked up. "Not alone."
With the Thorns reunited in flame, and Kael's legend growing, the Dread King stands taller than ever—but the ghosts of his past and the roads of redemption still call. And across enemy lands, a sister dares to uncover the truth buried beneath blood and betrayal...