Blade of the Fallen Kingdom

Chapter 7 – The River’s Toll

The river hurled Kael downstream like a rag caught in a storm. His chest burned, every gasp stolen by the torrent. The shadows swam after him, their faceless heads breaking the surface like hunters.

He thrashed wildly, reaching for air, but the Blade’s voice hissed through his skull. Let me cut the current, Kael. Let me carve the river itself. Yield, and I will carry you.

“No,” Kael choked, spitting water. He couldn’t. If he gave in now, he wasn’t sure he’d ever come back.

A sudden hand seized his arm. Mira. She kicked furiously, dragging him upward. “Don’t you dare let go!” she shouted, her voice hoarse over the crashing water.

Kael clung to her, coughing violently. For a moment he thought they might steady themselves, but the river was merciless. It slammed them against rocks, tore at their limbs, and carried them deeper into its dark heart.

Around them, the cries of survivors rose and fell. Some fought the current. Others vanished beneath it. Kael’s gut twisted, every lost voice cutting him deeper. He wanted to save them all. But right now—he couldn’t even save himself.

The water narrowed suddenly into a rushing channel. Mira screamed as they were sucked into a chute of foaming rapids. Kael’s shoulder smashed against stone; sparks of pain burst through his vision. Then light—blinding, sudden light—exploded ahead.

They were being spit out of the cavern.

The river hurled them from darkness into open night, a waterfall roaring into a misty gorge below. Kael and Mira plunged over the edge, crashing into the pool with bone-jarring force.

Silence, for a moment. The suffocating roar of water gave way to the ragged sound of his own breathing. Kael surfaced, hacking, limbs trembling. Mira bobbed nearby, her face pale but determined.

“Alive,” she gasped. “Somehow.”

They dragged themselves toward the bank. The pool was cold, but not deep. Kael collapsed onto the rocky shore, chest heaving. Mira flopped beside him, shivering. For a long moment, neither spoke.

Then Kael forced himself upright, scanning the gorge. Survivors staggered along the shore, coughing, crying, clinging to one another. Dozens had made it. Dozens more… had not.

The grief hit him like a blade to the gut.

“We lost too many,” he whispered. His hands shook as he gripped the wet earth.

Mira sat up, her eyes dark with sorrow. “We saved who we could. Without you, none would have survived.”

Her words were meant to comfort, but they felt like stones. The Blade pulsed at his side, almost smug. See how they look to you, Kael? They cannot survive without you. They fear you, yes—but they need you more.

Kael squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted to hurl the sword into the gorge, to be rid of its voice forever. But when his hand brushed the hilt, his fingers wouldn’t let go.

“Where do we go from here?” Mira asked quietly, scanning the cliffs that hemmed them in.

Kael followed her gaze. The gorge stretched far, hemmed by jagged rock and shadowed by towering cliffs. Above, storm clouds blotted out the moon. The air felt wrong—too heavy, too still.

Before he could answer, a child screamed.

Kael’s head snapped toward the sound. At the far end of the pool, something emerged from the mist.

At first it looked like a man—tall, broad-shouldered. But as it stepped closer, Kael’s stomach dropped. Its body shimmered like water, its limbs half-formed, dripping endlessly back into the pool. A face surfaced on its liquid form, stretched and warped, mouth open in a soundless cry.

Mira staggered to her feet, sword raised. “What in the gods’ names—?”

The survivors backed away, murmuring prayers.

Kael felt the Blade stir, hungry, eager. Strike it. Strike now. Only I can cut what cannot be cut.

The water-being stepped forward, each stride sending ripples across the pool. Its face shifted—now a child’s, now a soldier’s, now a screaming mother’s. All voices blended into a chorus of anguish.

One of the survivors broke. “It’s the river! The river itself is cursed!” He fled into the gorge, scrambling over rocks.

The creature moved faster than Kael thought possible. Its arm elongated like a whip, lashing across the distance, and seized the fleeing man. With a jerk, it dragged him screaming back into the pool, swallowing him whole. His cries cut off instantly, replaced by silence.

Gasps and sobs erupted from the survivors.

Mira’s knuckles whitened on her sword. “Kael. Tell me you’ve got a plan.”

Kael’s mouth was dry. His body screamed for rest, but the Blade throbbed, demanding to be unleashed. If he used it—he might save them. Or he might lose himself completely.

The creature’s faces twisted toward him, as though recognizing him. Its many mouths whispered one word, overlapping, echoing like the current itself.

“Chosen.”

The Blade’s voice purred. Yes. Even the river knows you are mine.

Kael shuddered. The survivors looked to him, eyes wide with fear and desperate hope. Mira stood beside him, ready to fight—but even she glanced at the Blade, as if knowing their only chance lay in its cursed edge.

Kael’s hand hovered over the hilt. His heart pounded. The water-being surged closer, every step shaking the ground.

He had seconds to choose.

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