Kael stepped beyond the ruin.
His legs were steady. His breath calm. But the world ahead was anything but.
Elira watched from the archway, one twin in each arm. She didn't stop him.
She knew he had to walk this part alone.
The mist greeted him like an old friend, cool, coiling, thick with memory. He followed no road, no trail. Only instinct.
And the thread.
He felt it inside him now. Not pulling. Guiding.
It led him to a break in the trees. A hollow carved into the forest floor, rimmed by stones covered in runes he could not read, but somehow understood.
He stepped inside.
The air shifted. Time stilled.
The realm whispered, not in words, but pressure.
Kael fell to his knees.
He saw fire. Thunder. Ice. Thought.
He saw the twins, older, divided.
One leading armies. One wandering ruins.
He saw Elira weeping.
He saw himself, both crowned and broken.
And then the hollow released him.
He gasped.
The runes beneath his hands no longer glowed.
But something within him did.
Kael rose slowly.
Not with certainty.
But with direction.