The Godslayer's Return

Twelve: The Mark’s Burden

Kael woke to fire and not to the kind that devoured cities, but a molten current coiled under his skin, pulsing from the brand burned into his arm.

Each throb rattled through his bones, stealing his breath. His body jerked against the cold floor, and it took him a full moment to realize he wasn’t still in that fog-shrouded street.

Stone walls surrounded him, the faint smell of herbs drifting from a brazier. Pale moonlight spilled through a broken window, painting silver across the room.

“Stay still,” a soft voice urged.

Aelira knelt beside him, hair loose, face pale with exhaustion. Her hands pressed a damp cloth against the blackened flesh of his arm. He hissed, jaw clenching as the sigil flared again, lines of crimson crawling up toward his shoulder.

“Don’t touch it,” Kael ground out, yanking his arm back. “It burns worse when you..”

“You were screaming in your sleep,” she cut him off, eyes sharp. “I thought you were dying.”

Kael sat up slowly, pressing his back against the wall. H