The wind howled across the mountain pass, whipping snow into spiraling eddies that danced between the peaks. The path was narrow, barely wide enough for a merchant's cart, carved into the mountainside by decades of travelers too stubborn to find another route. Two figures moved slowly along the pass, their cloaks pulled tight against the cold. "Master Aldric, how much longer?" The voice belonged to a girl, no older than five, bundled in a coat of fine grey wool trimmed with silver fur. Her cheeks were flushed pink from the cold, and strands of silver hair had escaped her hood to whip around her face. Despite the journey, despite the cold, her emerald-green eyes were bright and alert. The man walking beside her—a tall, lean figure in a dark coat that had once been elegant but was now weathered by weeks of travel—looked down at her with a gentle smile. His face was lined, his hair silvered at the temples, but his posture was straight and his movements carried the quiet precision of

Lyra and Aldric left the next morning. The sun had barely crested the peaks when Kael woke to find them preparing to depart. Aldric was adjusting the straps on his pack while Lyra stood at the cave entrance, watching the snow drift in lazy spirals. She turned when Kael approached, her silver hair catching the pale morning light. "We're leaving," she said simply. Kael nodded. He didn't know what to say. He'd only known her for a day, but the cave felt emptier already. Orion stood a few paces away, speaking quietly with Aldric—final words between two men who trusted each other only slightly more than they had the day before. "Will you come to Astoria someday?" Lyra asked. The question hung in the cold air. Kael thought about it. Astoria. The city beyond the mountains. The place where Contractors gathered, where his answers might be waiting. "Maybe," he said. Lyra smiled. It was small and sad and hopeful all at once. "I'll look for you. If you ever come." Then Aldric was calling

The wooden dagger was heavier than it looked. Kael held it in his small hands, turning it over, feeling the weight of it. The blade was smooth and unpolished, carved from a single piece of dense mountain oak. It had no edge, no point sharp enough to pierce skin, but it had been weighted to match a real blade. Every gram of it demanded respect. Orion stood across from him in the snow, his arms crossed. The morning light was pale and cold, and the wind had died to a whisper. It was as if the mountain itself was watching. "A dagger is the simplest weapon," Orion said. "No reach. No weight behind it. That's why it teaches you what matters—control, precision, and distance. If you can fight with a dagger, you understand the fundamentals. Everything else is just an extension of those same principles." Kael nodded. His fingers tightened around the hilt. "Too tight," Orion said immediately. "Your knuckles are white. You're strangling it. Hold a blade like that and your arm tires in minut

The Sea of Souls stretched around them, infinite and silent.Kael floated before the entity, its form still shifting—silver and shadow, light and absence, never settling into a single shape. The question echoed in his mind, ancient and patient.Why have you come?Kael didn't answer immediately. He thought about the cave, the mountain, the years of training. He thought about the wolves, the ice bear, the monsters. He thought about Orion's grey eyes watching him, pushing him, never letting him break. He thought about his mother's screams, his father's blood, the white-haired man's smile."I want power," Kael said. His voice was steady now. "I want to grow stronger."For what purpose?The question came from within, resonating through his soul. Asrath's shifting form stilled, as if waiting. The silver sea around them grew calm.Kael took a breath."For revenge," he said. "I want to take everything from the people who took everything from me. I'll walk my path alone so I can never be hurt