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The crimson moon hung low over the Blackreach Mountains, casting an eerie glow on the shattered ruins of the ancient fortress. Kael stood at the edge of a cliff, his cloak billowing behind him, eyes fixed on the glowing mark that had appeared on the back of his hand—an eclipse-shaped sigil that pulsed faintly with dark red light.
His heart pounded, but not from fear. It was something deeper—an awakening.
> "You've crossed the threshold, Kael Ardyn," a deep voice echoed from the shadows. "You are no longer of the world you once knew."
Kael turned. Behind him stood the same old man from the dungeon—the one who had set him free, and vanished before Kael could even ask his name. Now, under the open sky, the old man's presence felt different. Darker. Older.
Kael clenched his fists. "Who are you?"
The old man's smile did not reach his eyes. "I am the one who remembered you when the world forgot. The one who preserved the last fragment of your lineage."
Kael stepped forward. "My lineage? You knew my family?"
"More than you know," the man replied. "But this is not the time for answers. You are being hunted. They have sensed the mark."
As if on cue, a sharp whistle pierced the silence. Figures in black cloaks emerged from the darkness—six of them, wielding jagged blades, faces hidden behind bone-white masks. Their presence sent a chill down Kael's spine.
The old man didn't flinch. "Shadowbound Assassins. Sent by the Eclipse Order."
Kael drew a rusty sword he had taken from the dungeon armory. It was old, unbalanced, and barely sharp, but it was better than nothing.
One of the assassins lunged.
Steel met steel, and Kael was forced back by the sheer force of the blow. Another came from his side—he ducked, barely avoiding a lethal strike. His body moved on instinct, as if something deep within guided his reactions.
The old man merely watched.
"You hold the blood of the Shadowblood Sovereign," he said calmly. "Awaken it."
Kael gritted his teeth. Another assassin slashed, cutting through his shoulder. Blood sprayed across the ground.
Then… something snapped.
The mark on his hand burned crimson. The world slowed.
He could hear the heartbeat of every assassin around him. The pulse of their movements. Their fear.
A dark mist erupted from his body. The sword in his hand shattered, but he no longer needed it. With a cry that echoed across the cliffs, Kael's hand lashed forward—pure shadow energy surged, obliterating two assassins instantly.
The others hesitated. One turned to run.
Kael raised his hand again. A tendril of blackness shot out and impaled the fleeing assassin through the chest. The body dropped without a sound.
The final two charged together.
But Kael was already behind them. In a blur of darkness, he moved like a wraith, striking with inhuman precision. The assassins crumbled before they could react.
Silence fell.
Kael's breathing was heavy. His body trembled, and the red glow slowly faded from his hand.
"What… what was that?"
The old man approached. "That was only a glimpse. The power sealed in your blood… is not meant for mortals."
Kael looked at his hand, then at the fallen assassins. "I don't understand. Why are they after me? Why now?"
"Because the Bloodmoon has risen," the old man replied grimly. "And with it, the ancient prophecy begins to stir. The Sovereigns are awakening. And you, Kael Ardyn, are one of them."