The morning after Kaien's death was quiet—but not the kind of quiet that brought peace.
It was the kind of silence that sat like a bruise on the soul. The kind that made soldiers clean blood from their boots slower than usual. The kind that made even the wind hesitate before howling again.
Ezrah stood at the edge of the broken east wall, arms crossed, eyes locked on the charred horizon. The Hollowborn were still out there. Always watching. Always waiting.
Behind him, murmurs spread like smoke.
"Kaien's dead. Who leads us now?"
"Ezrah's just a kid too."
"What about that demon girl—Aira? She was close to him, wasn't she?
He heard them all. Pretended not to. But inside, Ezrah's chest burned. Not from doubt—no, from something older. A promise he hadn't even made aloud yet.
Protect everyone left.
It wasn't about becoming Kaien. Ezrah didn't want to be another symbol that broke under pressure. He wanted to be something sharper. Something necessary
Aira hadn't spoken all morning.
She sat alone near the collapsed infirmary, a jagged blade across her lap. Her hands hadn't moved in hours. Her demon eyes—one violet, one dimmed gold—stared at nothing.
A single memory played on loop:
"If anyone hurts you, I'll go first," Kaien had joked, half-laughing, half-serious.
"That's not funny," she'd replied, but a part of her had felt safe for the first time.
And now he was gone.
Ezrah approached, slow.
"Aira."
She didn't turn. But he saw the flick of her finger across the blade. Just once.
"I'm going back out tonight," she said, voice low. "Alone."
Ezrah sat beside her on the scorched wood. "You're not going alone."
She looked at him then, finally. "This isn't about revenge anymore, Ezrah. It's about purpose. Mine."
"You think Kaien would've wanted that?" he asked.
"No. But I do."
The moment hung heavy.
Then, Ezrah nodded. "Then I'll follow you. Just don't expect me to stay behind while you die."
For the first time in hours, a flicker of something passed through her eyes. Not warmth. Not peace.
But respect
Later that Night
The two moved beyond the wall's edge under the cloak of darkness. They said nothing to the others. No goodbyes.
The Hollowborn were nesting deep in the collapsed city ruins ahead.
And deep within those ruins, something old stirred—something with eyes like mirrors and bones made of glass.
Ezrah didn't know what was waiting. But he could feel the weight of the story turning.
Kaien's death was not the end.
It was the ignition