Chapter 9: Bonds of Flame and Steel
It was cold again.
Not the biting winter cold of Philistines, but a different kind—wet, seeping into the bones, born from sea air and stone soaked in centuries of rain.
Kiel stood at the bow of the transport vessel as it cut across gray waters, the distant outline of Redveil Fortress growing larger by the hour. It looked like a broken tooth jutting out of the cliffs, wrapped in old magic and older history.
This was their mission.
Their first one outside the country.A formal request from the Outlands Historical Council to investigate strange magical signals rising from the long-abandoned ruins.
Redveil Fortress had been dead for over a hundred years. No survivors. No clear records. Just silence and superstition.
The academy didn't normally send students to places like this.
But then again, they weren't normal students anymore.
Kiel turned as footsteps approached behind him.
It was Noban, her coat pulled tight against the wind. Her braid was damp from sea mist, and her scythe was strapped securely across her back.
"You've been staring at the fortress for two hours," she said.
"Trying to feel something," he answered quietly.
"And?"
He exhaled. "I don't know. The wind feels like it's whispering. Like it remembers me."
Noban looked at the horizon for a long moment. "Places like this hold old magic. The kind that doesn't forget. Just waits."
Kiel glanced sideways. "You always talk like you've seen more than you should."
She shrugged. "Gorge family travels. A lot of tools. A lot of ruins."
"Any of them talk back?"
"Once."
She didn't explain.
Below deck, Anna had taken over one of the tables and was drawing a crude sketch of the fortress layout with a charcoal stick.
"I still think we should go in through the west wing," she said, pointing to a crumbling hallway in the map. "The eastern towers are too exposed, and you can bet something's watching from the cliffline."
Elesio was polishing the scope on his rifle. "West wing has blind corners. If something ambushes us, we'll be in a bottleneck."
"We move in pairs then," she said. "Noban and I take point. You and Kiel cover."
"I'd rather shoot from the outside," Elesio muttered. "But sure, let's walk into the horror fortress together."
Kiel stepped down from the stairs. "We're not alone out there."
Anna looked up. "Meaning?"
"Something's in that place. It's not just old spells. It's waiting."
Elesio stopped cleaning the rifle.
"So," he said, "not a standard relic hunt, then."
Noban's voice came from the stairwell. "Nothing about us is standard."
They landed at dusk.
The shoreline was jagged, with broken docks and a pathway of stone steps leading upward through rusted gates. Moss crawled up the walls. Dead vines wrapped around shattered windows. The fortress loomed—tall, blackened, hollow-eyed.
The air was too still.
Inside, the halls were empty. Silent. Echoes of footsteps whispered back at them even when they stood still.
They split into two pairs.
Anna and Noban scouted the upper levels. Kiel and Elesio cleared the lower chambers.
It was in one of the lower vaults—an old training room, perhaps—that Kiel stopped walking.
He stared at a faded mural painted on the wall.
It was old—faded by time—but parts of it remained visible.
A battle. A glowing sword. A warrior with eyes like his, standing in front of a gate of fire.
Kiel stepped closer. "I've seen this before. In a vision. Back in Esten Hollow."
Elesio stood beside him, quiet.
"You think this was you?" he asked after a moment.
Kiel shook his head. "Not me. Someone before me. But somehow… it's part of me now."
Elesio adjusted his rifle. "Then maybe we're not just here to clean up ruins. Maybe this mission was always about you."
Kiel's voice was low. "I didn't ask for this."
Elesio glanced at him. "Neither did I. But I'm here."
He paused.
"And I've got your back."
Upstairs, Anna and Noban moved through what used to be a library—now gutted by time, wind, and rot. Shelves had collapsed. Old books melted into the floor.
Noban stopped at a rusted suit of armor. Its chest had been pierced clean through by a scythe-like strike.
She knelt, running a hand along the cut.
"This was made with precision," she said. "Same arc I was trained to use."
Anna raised an eyebrow. "You think your family fought here?"
"I think they buried something here. Or someone."
Anna sat on the edge of a stone ledge, brushing dust off her boots.
"You know, for all the ancient power and political drama... you're surprisingly easy to talk to now."
Noban didn't smile, but her voice softened. "I didn't expect to like any of you."
"Thanks?"
"I don't like people. But... you're not like the others."
Anna leaned back on her hands. "Neither are you."
Noban looked at her. "You remind me of my sister. Loud. Fire everywhere. Always trying to protect people."
Anna paused. "Where is she now?"
Noban stood. "Gone."
Anna didn't ask more. She just stood and walked beside her.
That was enough.
The team regrouped near what appeared to be the central altar room. At the center of the cracked floor was a stone seal—a circular slab covered in runes, pulsing faintly with light.
Elesio knelt beside it. "Whatever this is, it's active."
Anna looked around. "The readings they detected. This is the source."
Noban stepped closer. "It's not a relic. It's a prison."
Kiel moved toward the seal.
The pulse quickened.
And then—without warning—his hand glowed.
A light shone from beneath his skin. The same color. The same shape as the seal.
Anna stepped forward. "Kiel…"
"It's resonating with me," he said.
Elesio tightened his grip on his rifle.
Noban drew her scythe, just in case.
And then—the seal cracked.
A pulse of energy knocked them all back.
The air screamed.
The fortress shook.
And a voice—deep, ancient, and full of recognition—whispered across the chamber:
"The heir has returned."