Chapter 22 — Flame and Oath
—Kael Saint Vent...
The name hung for an instant in the cold air of darkness. Elyndra let it drift away and kept that syllable deep in her chest; it didn't matter that no one else had heard it. What mattered was what was happening now: Kael, surrounded by shadows swelling like hungry smoke, reacted without thinking.
With a visceral motion —the urgency born only from years of restrained rage— Kael lunged at the darkness.
It wasn't a slow fight; it was sharp, instinctive, and precise. His hands opened, and against all reason, the shadows began to flow toward his palms as if the darkness itself sought to be absorbed by him. Kael caught it between his hands; for a moment, the blackness seemed solid, and then it compressed, dissolving like smoke turning into light.
In that moment, it seemed as though Kael had begun to absorb the darkness around him— the shadows being drawn in, while the light of his aura merged with them. The fusion wasn't harmonious; it was violent, like two oceans colliding. And the price came immediately: searing pain shot through him from his hands to his spine. He bent over, screaming without a sound. Every fiber of his being burned with memories that gave no warning— the flames, the screams, the loneliness— and the darkness tore at him, dragging out visions that scorched his soul.
Yet amid that agony, something unexpected bloomed within him: an indescribable peace.
It wasn't the absence of pain, but a warm calm that softened the destruction.
It was like a sheet gently placed over an open wound— not closing it, but embracing it.
The fury still raged, but there was now a quiet corner where his anger could rest.
When he regained consciousness, Kael found himself in Elyndra's arms.
She held him firmly, with the patient tenderness of someone who had kept vigil through countless nights.
Elyndra smiled —that same mixture of mother and mentor he had known since his first days under her care.
—Kael, you did it —she said softly—. But you're still not strong enough. You can't bear all that power yet. I'll keep it sealed with my own strength until you grow capable of handling it.
Her voice was not reproach, but promise.
Exhausted, Kael let his head rest on the shoulder of the woman who had saved him more times than he could count. His heart still pounded from the battle, but against Elyndra's heartbeat, he found a rhythm that calmed him. The sweat on his forehead cooled. His breathing steadied.
—Thank you, Master —he murmured, voice trembling.
Elyndra met his gaze, and with a tenderness that felt almost maternal, replied:
—Thank you, my little one.
A hush fell between them, broken only by the whisper of the wind weaving through the darkness.
Elyndra leaned forward with deliberate gentleness, and like someone performing an ancient rite, kissed his cheek. The gesture was brief but warm, and Kael flushed immediately; the closeness tensed his shoulders, and color rose to his face before he could stop it.
—Wh-what are you doing, Master? —he stammered nervously.
Elyndra smiled, amused by the awkwardness of a boy who couldn't hide his emotions.
—My innocent child… —she said softly—. I've just transferred to you the Ancient Will of the Elves. You're the one best suited to carry it, even if you're not one of them. And I trust you with it.
The weight of her words fell on Kael like a truth that lit him from within. He barely had time to process the responsibility before another question escaped his lips —the one that had haunted his thoughts:
—Wouldn't it have been better to give it to Selene? She's your daughter…
Elyndra pressed her lips together; her answer came firm and unwavering.
—There's no need. Within her dwells the demonic will of her father. He passed it on to her before he died.
The simplicity of the explanation did not lessen its weight.
Selene, bearer of another will, couldn't hold a second one without breaking.
Kael nodded slowly. At last, the puzzle of his allies and his master began to take shape, revealing a truth he had only glimpsed in fragments.
He rose solemnly, as if about to make a knight's vow.
With a clear, unwavering voice, he accepted the Elven Will with honor.
Elyndra stood as well, gifting him a smile that blended pride and relief.
—Are you ready to return? —she asked.
Before Kael could respond, she stepped closer again. With a mixture of affection and command, she asked him to deliver a message to Selene. Then, half teasing and half ceremonial, she kissed his cheek once more. Kael blushed again, the discomfort strangely human in him. Elyndra laughed softly and, with the same gentle warmth that always surrounded her, gave him a push.
It was soft, but absolute.
Kael felt the void open beneath him —and the falling sensation jolted him fully awake.
Disoriented, he sat up sharply, consciousness emerging like from a cold pond.
—What happened? What am I doing here? Where is everyone? —he asked aloud, heart racing.
A sound at the door pulled him from confusion.
The real world returned in the form of hurried footsteps; the wood creaked, and the door burst open.
Selene rushed into the room, urgency in her movements. The moment she saw him, all restraint vanished. She threw herself into his arms, clutching him tightly, tears streaming down her face.
—Thank the gods you're awake, Kael! —she cried, holding him as if afraid he might vanish again.
Kael looked at her, still dazed, his voice cold and mechanical, a thin shield over the turmoil inside.
—Calm down. It was only a few hours.
Selene's reply hit like an explosion.
—A few hours? —she gasped, pulling back to meet his eyes—. Kael, it's been two weeks!
The words struck him like a cutting wind.
Two weeks.
The lost time burned like a fresh wound. His voice came out sharp, urgent:
—Two weeks? I was asleep that long? What about the others? The Master? Lyra?
Selene choked back a sob, hugging herself as if to contain the pain.
—I'm sorry, Kael. I tried everything to stop them from taking her, but I couldn't. They were too strong...
The words pierced him.
Kael released her abruptly and finally saw her clearly—bruises across her face, bandages on her arms, one foot she held gingerly off the ground. Every mark told a story of battle and defiance.
With the icy tone he wore like armor —and the fury burning beneath it— he demanded:
—Who did this to you? Who took Lyra?
Selene lowered her gaze; her voice came out barely above a whisper.
—It was the Kingdom of the East. They attacked to capture Lyra. We fought her brother… but we couldn't defeat him.
The revelation struck like lightning through still air. Hatred surged within Kael, solidifying into a promise.
—Get ready, Selene —he said, his voice sharp as steel—. We're going to kill that bastard who hit you and took Lyra.
At that instant, the door opened again. Abel, the guild master, stood in the doorway, his face lined with exhaustion and the weight of responsibility.
—You can't, Kael —he said firmly.
Kael didn't hesitate, didn't ask for reasons.
—I'm going. I'll make him pay —he growled—. No matter what it takes.
Abel's gaze hardened. His words fell like stones.
—You fool… Do you even understand what that means? The consequences of what you're planning?
The warning lingered in the room like a prophecy.
Kael, resolute, didn't flinch.
—I don't care —he said. —I'm going to rescue Lyra.
Selene, still holding onto him, added with desperate conviction:
—That's right, Master. We're going to save her. Why won't you let us?
Abel took a long breath and spoke like a man who feared not for himself, but for those he loved.
—Do you realize the war you'd start between the Kingdom of the East and the Dawn City? We don't have the military strength to stand against them...
The truth was heavy—an empire and its church stood behind that kingdom, power enough to crush villages and burn lands. But Kael's reply was short and absolute.
From within him, a green breeze began to stir —the sealed power Elyndra had left. A calm yet deadly wind aura enveloped him.
—I don't care what war it brings —he said coldly—. I won't let anyone touch my friends. I'll crush anyone who gets in my way. Anyone.
Abel hesitated. Experience, affection, and dread warred in his eyes.
At last, resignation won. He sighed deeply.
—Fine —he said quietly—. I can't stop you. Do what you will.
That was all Kael needed.
Selene's spirit flared back to life; she shouted so loud the ceiling might've trembled.
—We're going to rescue Lyraaa!
Kael, as always, replied in his usual calm tone—though a layer of warmth hid beneath it.
—First, I'll heal you.
As Kael's hands began to glow, his focus turned to Selene's bandages and bruised skin. The magic Elyndra had entrusted to him flowed with quiet precision; Selene gasped in relief as the pain faded.
In that tense calm, the door opened once more.
Arthus entered, battered and poorly bandaged, standing tall despite his wounds.
—Kael —he said—, let me go with you to rescue Lyra.
Kael looked up and, seeing Arthus's condition, didn't hesitate.
—Of course. You're coming.
Then the rest of Arthus's group appeared —bloodied, exhausted, but with the fierce resolve of those who refuse to give up.
—We're coming too! —they said together.
Kael looked at them all and gave a single condition, his voice cold but steady:
—Fine. But wait until I finish healing Selene. I'll heal you all next.
Abel, watching from his chair, couldn't hide the mix of frustration and affection on his face.
—You're all fools —he muttered—. You have no idea what you're walking into.
Kael answered without hesitation, eyes burning with quiet certainty.
—No matter who it is… we'll crush them.
Abel sighed, defeated by the inevitability in Kael's eyes. His hand rested on the table, his gaze softening as it passed over each of them —a blend of pride and fear.
—Very well —he said at last—. But first… let me tell you everything that happened.....