The King's Guard

Chapter 98

The morning mist clung low to the pines surrounding the cabin.

Kael woke to silence: no crackle of fire, no sound of Reyna’s father sharpening blades. Only the faint whisper of wind against the shutters.

He dressed quietly, the ache in his ribs dull but steady. His body healed faster now; whether that was Elara’s doing or the Rift’s, he wasn’t sure. What he did know was that the woman who had taken them in watched him too closely. Too knowingly.

When he stepped outside, she was already waiting near the forge, hair tied back, sleeves rolled. She was hammering something small: metal on metal, slow, deliberate strikes that made the air hum.

“You’re up early,” she said without looking.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Dreams again?”

He hesitated. “Something like that.”

She nodded once and placed the tongs aside. “You dream because you fight sleep. You fight sleep because you fear memory. It’s all the same wound.”

Kael leaned against a post, watching her hands. “You speak like you’ve known it.”

“I’ve seen it. On men who carried too much too young. You have that look.”

He almost smiled. “So did my mother.”

That made her pause. The hammer hovered, then lowered. “Rhea,” she said softly.

He blinked. “You knew her?”

Elara straightened, face calm but eyes sharp. “Of course I did. Everyone in the valley knew Rhea Estaran. She brought light to dull men and peace to her husband. And then she died far too soon.”

He stepped forward. “You said that like you knew her well.”

“I did.”

“How well?”

Her lips thinned. “Enough to grieve her properly.”

Kael frowned. “Then why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I didn’t know it was you.” She turned fully now, wiping her hands on a cloth. “Not until I saw your eyes. You look like her when you’re angry. Like him when you’re silent.”

“Like my father?”

“Yes.”

Something cold rippled through him. “Who are you, Elara?”

The air between them held. The hammering stopped. For the first time since he’d met her, she looked uncertain, human in a way that unsettled him.

“I knew this would come,” she murmured. “But I’d hoped it would come later.”

“Elara,” Kael said, stepping closer. “I need the truth.”

She studied him a long time, then nodded faintly. “Then you’ll have it.”

Inside the cabin, she poured tea into two small cups and set one before him. The room smelled of pine and old parchment. A fire whispered low in the grate.

She said, “Your mother wasn’t just a metalsmith’s wife. She was part of something older, something most of Veridale forgot after the first Rift Wars.”

Kael’s grip tightened around the cup. “Mother never spoke of it.”

“She couldn’t. It would’ve endangered you.”

“What do you mean?”

Elara reached for a small chest beneath the table and drew out a folded cloth. Inside lay a sigil etched on bronze, faded but distinct. A spiral of light bound by an unbroken circle.

Kael leaned forward, breath shallow. “That’s the same mark… on the documents Darius kept.”

Elara nodded. “The mark of the Lumin Order. Founded before the Corps existed. Guardians of the Rift. Keepers of balance.”

“My mother was part of that?”

“Not just part,” Elara said quietly. “She was born into it. And so were you.”

He sat back, pulse quickening. “Born into it? What are you saying?”

She hesitated, then, with visible effort, spoke the words. “Rhea was my daughter.”

The world seemed to tilt.

Kael stared at her, the crackle of the fire blurring into a hollow sound in his ears. “No.”

“Yes.” Her eyes shimmered, but her tone didn’t waver. “You were six when she died. You know the story. What you didn't know was that I saw your father once after that, at her burial. He asked me to stay away. Said he couldn’t raise you with ghosts lingering around.”

Kael’s hands trembled slightly. “You…you’re my grandmother.”

Elara exhaled, the tension in her shoulders finally dropping. “I am.”

He rose abruptly, pacing toward the wall. “All these years, why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t know if I should. I wasn’t sure you’d want to hear it.”

“You watched us struggle,” he said, voice low but shaking. “You could have helped him. Helped me.”

“I tried!” she snapped. “Every letter I sent came back unopened. Your father shut the door on everything Rhea was. On me. He blamed her death on what she carried.”

Kael turned sharply. “What she carried?”

“The Rift.”

He froze.

Elara stepped forward slowly. “It’s in the bloodline, Kael. The Rift isn’t just a power, it’s a calling. Some are chosen by it; others are born tethered to it. Rhea was one of the latter. So are you.”

He tried to steady his breathing. “That’s not possible. Darius said it came from exposure, from the anomalies during training.”

“Darius only knew half the truth. The Corps built its empire on what they stole from the Lumin Order. They taught you control, but not origin. The Rift runs through your veins.”

Kael looked down at his hands, the faint flicker of distortion beneath his skin. “So everything I’ve done, everything I’ve learned, it’s been leading back to this?”

“Yes. And to her.”

He met her gaze again. “To my mother?”

Elara nodded. “Rhea never mastered the Rift’s balance. It consumed her slowly, burned her from within. That’s why your father hid you from it. He thought he could break the bloodline by denying it.”

Kael’s voice was quiet. “He couldn’t.”

“No.” Elara’s tone softened. “Because it chose again. Through you.”

Silence lingered. The fire popped once.

Kael sat again, staring at the sigil. “Darius knew something. That’s why he protected me.”

“I believe so,” she said. “He must have seen what you carried, but he didn’t betray it. He saw potential, not danger.”

He rubbed his temples, exhaling slowly. “And Archon?”

Her eyes darkened. “Archon hunted the Lumin Order before he ever led the Corps. He called them relics, heretics, said they hoarded power. He’ll destroy you if he learns what you are.”

Kael looked up sharply. “Then he already suspects.”

“Perhaps. But he doesn’t know you’ve found me.”

He leaned forward. “And the Queen? Darius once said she owed him her life. Does she know any of this?”

Elara’s gaze flickered. “Lauren Xenon was a friend to Rhea. She knew the truth once. Whether she remembers it now, whether she’s even alive, is uncertain.”

Kael’s throat tightened. “Then everything Darius fought for… it wasn’t just loyalty. It was to protect what’s left of the Order.”

Elara gave a faint, proud smile. “He was a better man than most kings.”

Kael’s voice cracked slightly. “He died because of me.”

“No,” she said firmly. “He died because of Archon. Don’t let his sacrifice become another silence.”

He met her eyes again, so similar to his mother’s, he realised now. “What do I do?”

“Learn,” she said. “Listen to the Rift, not command it. When the time comes, it will answer.”

“And you?”

“I will keep you safe for as long as I can.”

“You’ve already done that,” Kael said quietly.

Elara smiled faintly. “Then let me do it again for Rhea’s sake.”

Later that night, he sat outside the cabin, the sigil in his palm. The stars hung sharp and distant, the forest breathing around him.

He whispered, “Mother…”

For a moment, the bronze warmed in his hand. A ripple passed through the air, faint but real,vlike a heartbeat against the world’s skin. He thought he heard her voice, soft and distant.

“Keep walking, my son.”

He closed his eyes, letting the sound fade. When he opened them again, the sigil was cool. The wind shifted, carrying the faint scent of forge smoke and pine.

Elara’s voice came from the doorway. “You’re not alone, Kael.”

He looked over his shoulder. “No,” he said. “But it feels that way.”

“It always does, at the start.”

He gave a faint nod. “You said the Rift chose again. Why?”

“Because the world has forgotten how to balance light and shadow,” she replied softly. “And it never chooses without reason.”

Kael turned the sigil in his hand. “Then I’ll find that reason.”

“You will,” she said. “But be ready, the ones who fear you will call it treason.”

He met her gaze, the firelight flickering between them. “Let them.”