The silence after Darius's words was heavier than the rubble around them.
Kieran stared at the spiral on his arm, its faint glow pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat. He wanted to claw it away, to scrape it from his skin until nothing remained, but deep down he knew the truth. The mark wasn't on him. It was in him.
The mage lowered her staff slowly, though her gaze never softened. "Older," she murmured, her voice tense. "That's what terrifies me."
Kieran hugged his arms tight, shivering. "I didn't ask for this."
"No one ever does," Darius replied. His hand rested on Kieran's shoulder, heavy and grounding. "What matters is what you do with it."
The girl who had held his hand earlier leaned closer, her voice barely a whisper. "You saved us. That has to mean something."
Kieran didn't answer. He could still feel the whisper echoing in the back of his mind:
"Survive… Struggle… Awaken."
The words wrapped around him like a shadow, as much a warning as a promise.
---
They couldn't stay among the ruins. The Thasaract would come again. Darius made the call quickly.
"We head east," he said, his voice clipped. "There's a network of old merchant tunnels under the quarter. If they're still standing, we can reach the inner city before dawn."
The mage frowned. "And if they've collapsed?"
"Then we find another way," Darius said. His eyes flicked to Kieran briefly. "But we move. Now."
The survivors gathered what they could—a water flask, half a loaf of bread wrapped in ash‑stained cloth, and a lantern that sputtered but still gave light. Kieran forced himself to stand, his legs trembling with every step. The girl kept close, gripping his sleeve like she feared the shadows might take him if she let go.
They moved through the ruined streets, boots crunching over shattered stone and broken glass. Smoke still hung thick, clinging to their throats. The distant fires painted the night in shades of orange and red, but the silence between the bursts of flame was worse. Too quiet. Too expectant.
Every distant echo set Kieran's nerves on edge. Sometimes it was a falling stone. Other times, it sounded like footsteps.
At one point, the boy with the spear—bandaged now, but pale—leaned close to Darius. "Do you… think more of them will come?"
Darius didn't look back. "Count on it."
That was all he said.
The mage muttered softly, a protective charm spilling from her lips, and the faint shimmer of mana spread around the group like a thin cloak. It didn't make Kieran feel safer.
---
As they turned down a narrow street, the girl whispered, "Kieran… what was it like? When you… you know."
He stiffened. The spiral pulsed faintly, as if listening. He shook his head. "I… I don't know. It felt like falling into… nothing. Like the world was gone, and only the voice was left."
Her eyes widened. "A voice?"
He hesitated, then nodded. "It said… it said I had to survive."
The mage, overhearing, turned sharply. "You heard a voice?"
Kieran bit his lip, wishing he hadn't spoken.
Darius slowed, watching the boy carefully. "Whose voice?"
Kieran swallowed hard. He couldn't bring himself to say the name. Saying it aloud felt dangerous, like it would summon the shadow back into the street.
"I… I don't know," he lied.
The mage's eyes narrowed. "Then whatever it was, it isn't done with you."
Kieran lowered his gaze, shame twisting in his chest. He didn't need her to remind him. He could still feel it—coiled in the spiral, waiting.
---
The city stretched around them like a graveyard. They passed a collapsed bakery, its broken sign swaying in the wind. The smell of burnt bread lingered faintly, mingling with the stench of ash. A dog barked once in the distance, then silence swallowed it.
Every now and then, Kieran thought he saw movement in the shadows—shapes watching, waiting. But when he blinked, they were gone.
And yet… he couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Not just by enemies. By something else. Something vast.
---
Elsewhere in Kaelith
Far from the group, Selene moved swiftly through the shattered streets, her emerald mark glowing faintly in the dark. The words of her goddess still echoed in her ears:
"Watch for the boy. Through him, Euphoria's fate shall be forged."
She felt the pulse of Chaos in the distance, heavy and undeniable. It called like a dark star, pulling her closer. Her heart ached with fear—not for herself, but for the child who bore such a burden.
She whispered a prayer under her breath as she hurried. "Let me find him before the shadows do."
---
Back with Kieran
By the time they reached the merchant quarter, Kieran's legs were ready to give out. The lantern flickered weakly, casting long shadows against the crumbling walls.
"There." Darius pointed to a half‑collapsed archway leading into a slope of rubble. "The tunnel entrance. If it hasn't caved in, we'll be safe for the night."
The mage raised her staff, casting light ahead. Dust floated in the air, thick as mist. The tunnel mouth yawned like a beast waiting to swallow them.
Kieran hesitated. The spiral throbbed again, harder this time. The voice whispered faintly at the edge of his mind:
"Deeper. Walk deeper. In darkness, strength awaits."
He stumbled, clutching his arm.
"You all right?" the girl asked softly.
Kieran forced a nod. "Yeah… just tired."
But the truth coiled in his chest: he wasn't tired. He was afraid of what waited if he listened.
And more afraid of what would happen if he didn't.
---
As they disappeared into the tunnel, the ruins of Kaelith fell silent once more. But far above, the black leviathans prowled the sky, their crimson veins pulsing in time with the spiral on Kieran's arm—as though the invaders could feel the awakening of something older than themselves.
And in the distance, Selene's hurried steps drew her closer to the boy who carried both the world's salvation and its ruin.