2025-10-12 17:08:24The sun rose quiet over Ashvale.
Mist clung to the rooftops like ghosts that refused to leave. The rain had stopped, but the streets still glistened with puddles — tiny mirrors reflecting a pale sky.
Kael Ardent walked through it all, his hood drawn low, the weight of the cracked Echo Stone resting in his pocket.
He moved like a man half-awake, half-haunted.
Every sound felt too familiar — the call of the market traders, the clatter of a blacksmith’s hammer, the laugh of a child darting past.It was all the same as before.
And yet… different.Because no one knew him now.
No one looked twice.The empire’s strategist, the man once feared and respected in every hall, now passed through the crowd like smoke.
He stopped by a stall selling dried fruit. The woman behind it gave him a smile, rough hands brushing against her apron. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, boy.”
He met her eyes — gentle, tired eyes. He didn’t answer. Just dropped a coin on the counter.
She frowned. “You’re overpaying.”
He looked at the fruit, then back at her. “Then consider the rest for the ghosts.”
She blinked, confused. But Kael had already turned away.
At the edge of the market stood a fountain — cracked, moss creeping along its rim. Once, he’d stood there giving orders to passing soldiers. Now, he was just another face.
He crouched by the water.
The reflection that stared back wasn’t the man he remembered.
No gray in his hair. No scar along his jaw. His eyes — once hard and cold — now young again, but still carrying the same weight.A stranger’s face.
His face. And yet not.He lifted a hand, touching his cheek like he needed to confirm he was real.
The water rippled, and for a second — just a flicker — he saw something else.
An older version of himself. Burned, eyes hollow, staring back through the reflection.The image broke when a voice called out behind him.
“Kael! There you are!”
It was Daren, pushing through the crowd, hair wild, grin sharp. “You move like a ghost. I swear, one day you’ll vanish mid-sentence.”
Kael rose, brushing his cloak. “You said you had something.”
“Yeah,” Daren said, lowering his voice. “News. Soldiers were asking around last night. They’re looking for a deserter from the western garrison. Young, dark coat, quiet.”
Kael’s brow furrowed. “A deserter?”
Daren nodded. “Fits your description a little too well, doesn’t it?”
Kael looked past him, eyes tracing the crowd. The soldiers weren’t far — their armor gleamed like sunlight on knives.
He felt that same old instinct stir in his blood — not fear, but calculation.
Every street, every escape path laid itself out in his mind like a map he’d drawn a thousand times.“Let’s move,” he said quietly.
They slipped into the alleyway, boots splashing through puddles.
Ashvale’s backstreets wound like veins — narrow, crooked, alive with whispers.
They passed shuttered shops, half-broken fences, and the smell of rain-soaked hay.Daren kept close, glancing back every few steps. “They really think you’re a deserter?”
Kael’s tone stayed calm. “Maybe they’re looking for me. Maybe fate just can’t stand to lose.”
Daren huffed. “Fate doesn’t care about people like us.”
Kael gave a small, distant smile. “That’s where you’re wrong.”
He stopped suddenly.
Ahead, the alley split into two — one path toward the stables, the other toward the woods beyond the village.The sound of boots echoed behind them. Soldiers shouting.
Kael drew in a slow breath, thinking fast. “Go to the stables. Get the horses ready.”
Daren hesitated. “And you?”
“I’ll handle the rest.”
Daren’s jaw clenched. “You’re insane.”
Kael looked back once, eyes cold but calm. “That’s what they said before they burned me.”
He stepped out from the alley, straight into the soldiers’ path.
They froze at the sight of him — just a young man, unarmed, wet cloak clinging to his shoulders.
The lead soldier raised his voice. “You! Stop there!”
Kael didn’t stop.
Another soldier stepped forward. “Identify yourself!”
Kael’s steps were steady. “You don’t want this fight.”
The soldier sneered. “You threatening the Emperor’s men?”
“No,” Kael said softly. “I’m warning them.”
The soldier lunged. His blade came fast — but Kael was faster. He sidestepped, grabbed the man’s arm, and twisted. The sword dropped. With one motion, Kael struck the back of his neck. The man hit the ground, out cold.
The others shouted, rushing in.
Kael moved like water — no wasted effort, every motion clean. He disarmed one, tripped another, used their momentum against them. The third swung wildly; Kael ducked and slammed an elbow into his ribs.
When it ended, three men were on the ground, groaning.
Kael straightened his cloak, breathing slow and even. His hand brushed his pocket — the Echo Stone pulsed once, faintly.
He looked down at the nearest soldier. “Tell Varic’s dogs to stop sniffing my trail. I’m not the prey they think I am.”
The soldier just groaned.
Kael turned and vanished into the mist before more could come.
By the time he reached the stables, Daren was waiting, two horses saddled and ready.
“Please tell me you didn’t kill anyone,” Daren said as Kael climbed onto the saddle.
“No,” Kael replied. “But they’ll remember my face.”
“That’s worse!”
Kael’s mouth twitched — the ghost of a smile. “Good. Let them.”
They rode out through the fields, hooves cutting through the soft mud, the horizon glowing faint with morning light.
The village faded behind them. Only the open road remained, stretching out into mist.
For a long while, they said nothing. Only the rhythm of the horses filled the silence.
Finally, Daren spoke. “So… what now?”
Kael didn’t look back. His voice was quiet, steady, certain.
“Now? I stop being a ghost.”He touched the cracked Echo Stone again. It pulsed under his fingers, faint but alive — a reminder, a curse, a promise.
“I start finding the men who built my pyre,” he said softly. “One name at a time.”
Daren swallowed, glancing at him. “And when you find them?”
Kael looked ahead. The morning wind brushed his hair. The light caught his eyes — sharp as a blade drawn in silence.
“Then,” he said, “I’ll see if they still remember my face.”
Behind them, the sun broke through the mist — pale gold spilling over the wet fields.
Ashvale slept on, unaware that a dead man had just ridden out of its gates to rewrite the fate of an empire.
And somewhere deep beneath the earth, the Echo Stone’s light stirred once more, whispering to itself in voices only the dead could hear.
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Chapter 11: Whisper of Betrayal
Night fell like ink spilled over stone.The cellar beneath Ashvale’s old mill glowed dimly, one lantern flickering against cold walls. Maps lay scattered across the table, lines drawn, names circled — pieces of a puzzle only Kael could see clearly.Daren sat on a crate nearby, tossing a coin up and down.“Can I say something?”Kael didn’t look up. “You usually do.”Daren caught the coin, leaned forward. “You’re working too quiet. Too clean. Feels like you’re holding your breath before something explodes.”Kael finally lifted his eyes. “It already exploded once. I’m just sweeping the ashes this time.”That made Daren frown. “You talk like a ghost.”Kael almost smiled. “Maybe I am.”The lamp sputtered.Kael leaned over the table, eyes scanning a column of symbols drawn beside each noble’s name. He had written C next to some — for “corrupt.” Others, D — for “dead.” But one name stood out.Lady Seris Valen.Beside it, no mark. Only a small question mark drawn in black ink.“Her again?” Da
Chapter 10: The First Step Back
The morning sun was pale, tired — the kind that never truly warmed anything.Kael rode slow through the lower gates of Vhalric City, hood drawn, eyes scanning every corner.The Capital had changed, yet not at all.New banners hung from the walls, bright red and gold — the color of victory.But underneath, he could still smell it.Old smoke.Old lies.The market streets buzzed with noise — vendors shouting, guards barking orders, the clatter of carts over cobblestone.Daren walked beside the horse, head down, pretending to be another hungry traveler.“You sure about this?” he muttered. “Feels like walking into a wolf’s mouth.”Kael’s lips barely moved. “Sometimes you have to walk into the wolf’s den to see who’s holding the leash.”They passed a patrol — young soldiers in polished armor.None of them would remember him. He hadn’t even been born yet, in their eyes.That thought twisted in his chest like a knife.The echo of the past pressed close.He’d once marched through these same st
Chapter 9: Echo in the Dust
Night had fallen over the western trade road — a thin trail of dust and silence winding through dying fields.Kael’s horse moved slow beneath him, breath rising in pale clouds. The stars were faint, the moon a thin scar across the sky.He rode without speaking. Daren followed behind, fidgeting like the silence itched.“You ever gonna tell me where we’re going?” Daren finally asked.Kael didn’t answer right away. His eyes were fixed on the distance — on a ridge of dark stones jutting from the earth like bones.“Somewhere the empire forgot,” he said at last. “A place that remembers what it’s not supposed to.”Daren frowned. “You talk like a priest sometimes.”“I talk like a man who’s seen too much.”They rode on, the wind whispering through dry grass.When they reached the ridge, Kael dismounted. The stones weren’t natural — each carved with marks half-buried in dust. Old words, faded by time.Daren crouched beside one. “Graves?”Kael shook his head. “No. Warnings.”He ran a hand over o
Chapter 8: A Stranger’s Face
The sun rose quiet over Ashvale.Mist clung to the rooftops like ghosts that refused to leave. The rain had stopped, but the streets still glistened with puddles — tiny mirrors reflecting a pale sky.Kael Ardent walked through it all, his hood drawn low, the weight of the cracked Echo Stone resting in his pocket.He moved like a man half-awake, half-haunted.Every sound felt too familiar — the call of the market traders, the clatter of a blacksmith’s hammer, the laugh of a child darting past.It was all the same as before.And yet… different.Because no one knew him now.No one looked twice.The empire’s strategist, the man once feared and respected in every hall, now passed through the crowd like smoke.He stopped by a stall selling dried fruit. The woman behind it gave him a smile, rough hands brushing against her apron. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, boy.”He met her eyes — gentle, tired eyes. He didn’t answer. Just dropped a coin on the counter.She frowned. “You’re overpayin
Chapter 7: The Hidden Truth
The night was colder than usual.The kind of cold that sinks into your bones, not because of the wind — but because something in the air feels wrong.The mill stood at the edge of Ashvale, forgotten by the farmers who once brought wheat there. Its roof sagged, its walls breathed dust. But for Kael Ardent, it was enough.A roof, a table, and silence.The candle on the table burned low, its light trembling with every gust that crept through the cracks. A map lay open before him, corners held down by stones and an old dagger. Lines crossed over old ones, arrows and circles drawn in dark ink. He had drawn them by memory — the battlefields of his past life.Ten thousand men.One wrong order.And a pyre that ate him alive.His hand stopped over the mark labeled Falric Ridge.That’s where it began — where he’d been told to hold until reinforcements came.Reinforcements that never came.Kael leaned back, the chair groaning beneath him. His fingers brushed the cold metal of the Echo Stone besi
Chapter 6: Fire in the Heart
The morning came cold and heavy, but the light through the window burned gold.Kael sat alone by the river behind the old mill. The air smelled of wet ash and pine, the kind of smell that clung to soldiers’ cloaks after a siege. His hands trembled as he stared at his reflection on the surface — young skin, unscarred face, the eyes of a boy who hadn’t yet seen ten thousand die.He hated it.Every breath of that calm morning felt like a lie. The empire was still out there — still whole, still rotting, still singing the same songs it had sung the night he burned.A flock of birds broke from the trees. Their wings flashed white, scattering feathers over the water. Kael looked up. The sound reminded him of banners snapping in the wind, of battlefields, of men shouting his name before the world called him traitor.His chest tightened.“Not again,” he whispered. “Not this time.”A voice answered, soft and teasing.“You speak to ghosts now, strategist?”Kael turned. A boy leaned against a tre
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