The King's Guard

Chapter 77

The night after Ridgefall was too still. Kael woke to silence that felt wrong, the same kind that pressed against the skull, that filled the lungs with more than air. He sat up, heart racing before he knew why.

The barracks was dim, moonlight cutting faintly through the window slats. His head ached, a pulsing rhythm deep behind his eyes.

Then the sound came again.

Not from the room — from inside it. A whisper like static in his bones.

> “Kael…”

He froze.

The world bent.

His breath left his body as the walls melted into light and shadow. The floor under him became wet stone. He knew this place — he shouldn’t have. A hallway from another time, flickering like broken glass. He heard boots striking the ground, echoing off walls.

And there ahead of him was...Darius.

Not the man as he was, but something fractured. His coat torn, blood on his sleeve. His expression locked between fury and sorrow.

“Darius?” Kael called. His voice sounded wrong, stretched.

The commander turned, but not toward him. The scene moved on without acknowledging Kael, like a memory stuck on repeat.

A voice Kael couldn’t see shouted, “Fall back! He’s still inside!”

Then the explosion hit.

Kael felt the heat tear through the vision. His hands came up too late. When the world snapped back to normal, he was on the floor, breath ragged, cold sweat plastering his shirt to his back.

The room spun.

The door burst open.

“Kael!” Reyna’s voice cut through the haze. “What the hell—” She stopped, eyes widening as she saw the light fading from his hands. “You were glowing.”

He forced air into his lungs. “It wasn’t—” He swallowed. “It wasn’t real.”

Reyna crouched beside him. “Tell me you didn’t open it again.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Kael said quietly. “It… pulled me.”

“Pulled you?”

He nodded. “I saw something. Darius. A siege, I think. He was...hurt.”

Reyna’s tone shifted from irritation to concern. “A vision?”

“No,” Kael said. “A memory. But not mine.”

Reyna studied his face for a long moment. Then she stood. “Get up. We’re finding him. Now.”

Meanwhile, Darius was in the upper hall, poring over reports by torchlight when they arrived. His brow furrowed as Kael stumbled in, still pale.

“You look like you wrestled a storm,” Darius said dryly.

Reyna folded her arms. “He opened the Rift again.”

“I didn’t open it,” Kael said. “It opened itself. I saw… something. You.”

Darius went still.

Kael met his gaze. “A siege. Fire everywhere. You were shouting orders, then there was an explosion—”

“That’s enough,” Darius said.

Kael’s jaw tightened. “It was real, wasn’t it?”

The commander exhaled through his nose. “Old wounds don’t heal when you rip them open.”

“I didn’t mean to—”

“I know you didn’t,” Darius said, softer now. “But that’s what makes it dangerous.” He gestured to a chair. “Sit.”

Kael obeyed, though every muscle in his body stayed tight.

Reyna stood off to the side, arms crossed. “He said the Rift pulled him in. Like it chose to.”

Darius nodded. “It does that sometimes. The stronger your link, the more it thinks it owns you.”

Kael frowned. “Owns me?”

“Every Rift wielder has a tether: a point in time it clings to,” Darius explained. “Usually something traumatic. A death. A mistake. A turning point.”

“So it’s showing me your memory?”

“Not just mine,” Darius said quietly. “The Rift’s been passed through generations. It remembers every hand that’s touched it.”

Kael rubbed his temples. “I didn’t ask for this.”

“Neither did I,” Darius said. “But here we are.”

Reyna stepped closer. “Can you stop it?”

“No,” Darius said. “But he can learn to listen without falling in.” He turned to Kael. “You said you saw me. Then what?”

Kael hesitated. “There was fire. And a voice shouting your name. It said someone was still inside.”

Darius’s expression didn’t change, but his hands clenched behind his back.

“That memory,” he said, after a long pause, “was the fall of Blackgate. I was ordered to retreat. I didn’t.”

“You went back,” Reyna said softly.

“For one man,” Darius replied. “Didn’t find him.”

Kael looked up. “Who?”

Darius met his eyes. “Archon.”

Reyna stiffened. “He was there?”

Darius nodded once. “And he lived because I didn’t follow orders. The Council called it heroism. I called it a mistake.”

Kael leaned forward. “You saved him.”

“I unleashed him,” Darius said flatly. “That’s the difference.”

Hours later, Kael sat alone in the practice yard. The lamps were low, the air thick with mist. He ran his thumb along the blade’s edge, the faint shimmer of the Rift still lingering in his vision.

Reyna approached quietly, her boots soft on the damp stones. “You didn’t eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You’re shaking.”

“I said I’m fine.”

She didn’t leave. Instead, she sat beside him, close enough for the warmth of her arm to brush his.

“Darius looked like he’d seen a ghost,” she said. “You really saw it, didn’t you? That siege.”

Kael nodded slowly. “I think it’s showing me why things are happening. Like it’s trying to connect the pieces.”

“Or tear you apart,” she muttered.

He almost smiled. “Maybe both.”

Reyna leaned forward, elbows on her knees. “I used to think the Corps was the only stable thing in this world. Now every week it feels like the ground’s shifting again.”

Kael looked at her. “You’re scared.”

She didn’t deny it. “Aren’t you?”

“All the time,” he said softly. “But fear keeps me awake.”

“Same,” she murmured.

They sat there, the silence comfortable this time. For a moment, it felt like the world wasn’t unraveling.

Then Kael said quietly, “Darius is hiding something. I could feel it.”

Reyna gave a small sigh. “Then we’ll find it out together.”

He turned to her. “You don’t have to—”

“Yes, I do.” She met his gaze. “You’re not alone in this, Kael. Remember that before you do something reckless again.”

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “I’ll try.”

“Try harder.”

They stayed there until the lamps burned out, the courtyard slipping into darkness.

Far above, on the western tower, Archon stood again, the same place he’d watched Kael’s power flare days before.

Darius joined him, his steps heavy.

“You sent us into a trap,” Darius said, voice low.

Archon didn’t turn. “And yet here you stand. Impressive.”

“You’re using them as bait.”

“I’m testing them,” Archon said. “If the Corps is to survive, it needs more than soldiers. It needs survivors.”

Darius’s eyes narrowed. “And Kael?”

“A variable,” Archon replied. “One I intend to solve before Velreth does.”

“You’re playing with forces you don’t understand.”

Archon smiled faintly. “On the contrary, Commander. I understand them better than anyone.”

He finally turned, his eyes catching the torchlight. “Tell your protégé this: the Rift doesn’t just show the past. It shows what happens when the wrong men think they can change it.”

Darius’s voice hardened. “You’re threatening him.”

Archon’s tone remained calm. “No. I’m reminding him of his place.”

When Darius left, the wind shifted. Archon watched the clouds roll over the moon and whispered to the night, “Every ripple reaches the shore eventually.”