The King's Guard

Chapter 78

Kael hadn’t slept properly in days. Each time his eyes closed, the hum of the Rift returned.

Tonight was worse.

He sat cross-legged in the quiet training hall, lights dimmed, every other recruit long gone. The air smelled faintly of steel oil and sweat. He focused on the rhythm of his breath, trying to silence the thrum beneath it.

“Stay still,” he muttered to himself. “Don’t let it through.”

But it didn’t listen.

The floor beneath him shimmered. The world thinned.

Kael’s breath caught. The hall blurred, and for a moment he wasn’t there anymore.

He was standing in the courtyard outside the main citadel. Except it wasn’t night. And it wasn’t whole.

Smoke filled the air. Buildings burned in the distance. Bells rang somewhere, muffled by the roar of fire.

Kael turned in place. “No—this isn’t now.”

His voice sounded small, out of sync with everything around him. The Rift had pulled him again. But this wasn’t a memory — it was something ahead.

A shout cut through the chaos.

He turned toward it and saw Darius moving fast through the haze, his coat torn, blade drawn, shouting orders Kael couldn’t fully hear. Soldiers ran past him, their insignias the same as the Corps’, but darker, smudged with ash.

“Darius!” Kael called.

No answer.

The Rift thickened, distorting the sound. Darius’s figure flickered, like a lantern flame caught in a storm.

Then another voice which was faint but distinct came.

> “They’re gone, Commander! The west wing’s fallen!”

Kael took a step closer, boots sinking into nothing. “This isn’t real,” he whispered. “It hasn’t happened.”

He tried to move again, but the Rift held him in place. The air rippled, light bending into a thousand fractal lines.

Darius turned suddenly, shouting something at a soldier who wasn’t there. His expression was grim, eyes blazing.

Kael’s pulse hammered.

“Darius!”

For a second, the commander seemed to hear him. His head tilted not directly at Kael, but close.

And then it came:

> “The truth isn’t outside,” Darius’s voice echoed through the collapsing scene, deeper than Kael had ever heard it. “It’s above.”

Kael froze.

“What does that mean?”

But the Rift didn’t answer.

The light fractured completely. Darius vanished, replaced by the burning skyline. The Academy tower crumbled in slow motion, pieces of it suspended midair like shattered glass caught between seconds.

Kael fell backwards, or forwards...he couldn’t tell which.

When the world snapped back, he was on the floor of the training hall, breath ragged. His nose bled freely, the copper taste sharp on his tongue.

The lamps overhead flickered, then steadied. Time had righted itself barely.

He pushed himself up, palms shaking. “He spoke,” he muttered. “He spoke.”

The door opened behind him.

Reyna stepped in, her expression hard until she saw his face. “You’re bleeding again.”

“I saw him.”

“Who?”

“Darius. But not… him. It was through the Rift.”

Reyna frowned, crossing the hall quickly. “You opened it again? Kael—”

“It opened me.” He wiped the blood with the back of his hand. “The Academy—everything was burning. He was shouting orders. Then he said something.”

Reyna crouched beside him. “What did he say?”

Kael hesitated. “The truth isn’t outside. It’s above.”

Her brow furrowed. “Above? You mean… the Council? Velreth?”

“I don’t know. But he said it like it was a warning.”

Reyna looked at him a long moment, then sighed. “You realise how this sounds, right?”

Kael gave a tired laugh. “Like a man who’s losing his mind? Yeah.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Reyna reached out and touched his arm lightly. “You’re not crazy. The Rift’s changing. I can feel it too. The air around you hums when you’re near.”

Kael met her eyes. “That’s not comforting.”

“It’s not meant to be. It’s reality.”

He stared down at the floor, the faint shimmer still fading where the Rift had opened. “He looked older,” Kael murmured. “Like years had passed. Like I was seeing something that hasn’t happened yet.”

Reyna’s grip on his arm tightened. “Then whatever’s coming… we stop it before it happens.”

“How?”

“By not letting Archon or anyone else use you.”

Kael blinked. “You think Archon’s involved?”

“I think everyone’s involved,” she said. “You’ve seen too much. And if Darius is warning you from the other side of time, then the problem’s bigger than either of us.”

Kael nodded slowly. “He mentioned the truth being above. Maybe it’s the throne.”

Reyna exhaled. “That would mean—”

“That Velreth’s not the one pulling the strings.”

Silence.

Reyna stood. “We tell Kyna. She’s got her mother’s network, maybe she can trace who Archon’s really reporting to.”

Kael rose shakily. “If I can hold the Rift steady next time, I might see more.”

“Or it might kill you,” Reyna said flatly.

“Then I’ll die knowing why.”

Reyna’s voice softened. “Don’t say that.”

He met her gaze. “You’ve seen what’s coming. You really think any of us get out clean?”

Reyna looked away. “No,” she admitted. “But maybe that’s not the point.”

They found Kyna in the eastern courtyard, sitting cross-legged under the old clocktower.

She glanced up as they approached. “You both look like you’ve been chewed up by ghosts.”

“Not far off,” Reyna said.

Kael told her what he’d seen.

When he finished, Kyna went quiet. Her usual sharp tone softened. “The Rift’s showing you what’s being hidden. Darius’s warning means the conspiracy isn’t underground. It’s in plain sight. Above.”

“You think it’s the throne?” Reyna asked.

Kyna nodded slowly. “Veridale’s royal council has always used the Corps to clean their wars. If Archon’s feeding them power, he’s doing it for a price.”

“And the price?” Kael asked.

“Control,” Kyna said. “Always control.”

Kael paced. “If that’s true, Darius must already know. He’s part of it.”

“Or fighting it quietly,” Reyna countered.

Kyna sighed. “You realise if you’re right, Kael, the moment you tell anyone about this vision, you’ll be marked.”

“Then I’ll stay quiet,” he said.

Reyna shot him a glare. “You? Stay quiet? That’ll be the day.”

Kael almost smiled. “You’ve been spending too much time around me.”

“Someone has to keep you alive.”

The three of them shared a faint laugh.

Kyna stood. “If the truth’s above, we start looking up. There are records in the central tower, sealed by royal decree. If Darius’s warning is about the throne, that’s where the proof lies.”

Kael’s voice dropped. “And Archon?”

Kyna’s expression darkened. “He’s the gatekeeper.”

Hours later, Kael returned to his quarters. The moon had climbed high, washing the floor in pale light.

He opened his journal and began to write, hands still trembling.

> “The Rift showed me fire. Darius alive, shouting orders. His words: The truth isn’t outside, it’s above. If he’s right, everything we’ve been taught is a lie.”

He paused, then added another line.

> “The throne hides the answer. Archon is the key.”

The ink bled slightly on the paper, spreading like veins.

Kael stared at it for a long time before closing the book.

Outside, the wind shifted. Bells tolled from the upper spire: three long notes, a signal for incoming orders.

He didn’t need to read them to know what they’d say.

Another mission. Another lie.

Kael looked toward the ceiling, toward the direction of the capital palace beyond the mountains, and whispered to no one:

> “Then I’m coming for the truth myself.”