They left before dawn.The palace was still half-asleep when Kael swung himself onto the horse, careful with his balance, aware of every unfamiliar weakness in his body. Lysera mounted behind him with practiced ease, her movements confident, natural—someone who had ridden since childhood, not as a pastime, but as necessity.The horse snorted softly, breath steaming in the cool morning air.“You’re tense,” Lysera said, settling her hands lightly at his waist. “If you stay that stiff, you’ll be sore before we clear the southern road.”Kael huffed a quiet laugh. “Easy for you to say. My body still feels like it might betray me at any moment.”“It won’t,” she replied simply. “You listen to it too closely. Let it move.”He loosened his grip, adjusted his posture. The horse responded immediately, gait smoothing out as they passed through the gates and onto the open road.For a while, neither of them spoke.The world slowly woke around them—fields stretching wide, mist clinging low to the ea

Kael heard a knock it was very early in the morning, the sun has not even risen yet.Kael had been awake for hours, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling of his chamber, listening to the wind scrape against the palace walls like a restless ghost. He couldn't sleep leaving only the low hum of anticipation and the ache of cold seeping through his bones.When he opened the door, two warriors stood there, their armor dented and scratched from years of northern winters. Their eyes, sharp and assessing, didn’t hide the question that lingered unspoken: Can the prince survive this land?“The High Council has ordered a border task,” one said, voice clipped by frost. “All able warriors are required. You as well.”Kael’s lips pressed into a line. No surprise, no hesitation. He pulled on his tunic, the thin fabric barely keeping the cold at bay. “I’ll come,” he said simply, following them into the pale light of dawn.The yard was alive before them. Snow crunched under boots and hooves, frost rising l

The pale light of dawn crept over the horizon, painting the White North in shades of frost and silver. Kael’s breath misted in the icy air as he moved steadily across the frozen clearing outside the training yard. His boots sank slightly into the snow, leaving neat imprints behind him. The cold bit at his exposed skin, but he welcomed it—it sharpened him, reminded him that he was alive, and that every sensation was a tool.A wooden training dummy stood before him, scarred from repeated strikes, its arms worn smooth where swords had met the wood countless times. Kael circled it slowly, eyes narrowed, feeling the subtle creak of his shoulders, the precise resistance in his wrists, the pulse of strength returning to limbs that had once been fragile. Each swing was calculated, every stance deliberate. He was no longer a boy hiding behind weakness—he was a man who had lived battles in mind and body, who had survived storms that could have broken the strongest soldiers.His breath came in s

Kael stood in the middle of a field he did not recognize—black soil stretching endlessly, no sky above, no horizon in sight. The air was neither warm nor cold. It simply existed.___Still, like it was Waiting.He already knew this wasn’t a dream.A presence stirred behind him.He didn’t turn immediately.“welcome General kael Ardyn” a voice said.Kael finally faced the figure.The immortal looked the same as before—neither young nor old, neither fully human nor something else. Their form shimmered faintly, like heat above stone. Their eyes were too knowing, too heavy with ages Kael couldn’t imagine surviving.“You brought me here again,” Kael said calmly.“No,” the immortal replied. “You came because your mind is searching.”Kael studied them. “For answers.”“For permission,” the being corrected.Kael didn’t deny it.The immortal walked slowly around him, bare feet leaving no marks on the black soil. “You are progressing faster than expected.”“Because I don’t have time to waste.”“No,

Kael’s room was quiet, the afternoon sun spilling through the tall windows in warm, golden stripes. For the first time since returning from the North, he allowed himself a moment to exhale. The trip had been long, the journey back was taxing, but he was home. His body ached pleasantly from constant riding, training, and cold, yet it was the kind of exhaustion that spoke of progress, not weakness.Sitting at the small desk by the window, Kael pulled out a paper , carefully dipping his quill in ink. A moment later, he grinned to himself, the kind of mischievous glint that Elyra had always loved to tease him about."Dear Lysera," he began, deliberately taking his time to make each letter bright , "I have returned to the palace, unscathed, and with all fingers still intact. No blizzards, no traitorous servants, no angry wolves. Yet do not be fooled—I am sorely tempted to sneak another training session just to prove I am still alive."Kael chuckled quietly to himself."I hope this finds yo