The fires of the siege still smoldered in the mountain stronghold. The courtyard was littered with broken stone, scorched weapons, and the bodies of Varrow's hunters dissolving into nothingness. The Keepers moved among the wounded, chanting healing rites as the dawn bled across the sky.
Kael stood apart, the Moonsilver Sword planted into the ground before him. He leaned on it like a pillar, his jaw tight. Every strike of the siege replayed in his mind—the warlord's strength, the shadows' endless tide, the cost of every life lost.
Lady Elira approached, her silver braid streaked with soot, her armor dented. "You fought well, Prince. But you see now—this fortress will not withstand another assault. Varrow will return with more. And next time, not even the flame may hold him back."
Kael lifted his gaze, his eyes like steel. "Then we don't wait for him. We strike first. We march to the Hollow and end this war before it consumes the kingdom."
Elira studied him, the weight of centuries in her silence. At last, she nodded. "A bold path. Perhaps the only path."
---
Isolde sat within the Hall of Ash, the Crown of Dawn resting before her on its stone pedestal. Its light pulsed faintly, as though breathing. She reached out, her hand trembling, and for a moment she heard them again—the voices of the first warriors, bound to the crown.
Stand firm, flame. Bind the shadow. Carry our oath.
But beneath their voices lurked another, darker, colder.
Carry my chains. Every oath you keep is a link that binds you to me.
She flinched back, clutching her chest. The mark on her hand burned hotter than ever, veins of golden fire spreading faintly up her arm. She pulled her sleeve down quickly as Kael entered, though his sharp eyes missed little.
"You heard him again, didn't you?" he asked.
Isolde's silence was answer enough.
Kael knelt before her, taking her hands. "We'll end this before he breaks you. I swear it."
Her eyes lifted to his, filled with fear and fire both. "And if it's already too late?"
"Then I'll fight him for you," Kael said fiercely. "Even if I have to fight you to save you."
Her breath caught, but instead of fear, something steadier bloomed within her chest. Trust. She leaned her forehead against his. "Then we fight together."
---
The Keepers assembled in the courtyard by nightfall, their gray cloaks billowing like storm clouds. Elira raised her staff, her voice carrying across the mountain.
"Brothers, sisters. For centuries we have guarded the oaths of the first war. Now the Shadow King stirs, his chains breaking, his servants walking free once more. No fortress, no ward, no waiting will save us. We march to the Hollow. We march to bind him again—or fall as the first did."
The Keepers struck their weapons against the stone in thunderous rhythm, a vow of steel and fire.
Kael fastened the Moonsilver Sword at his side, the blade humming like a heartbeat. Isolde lifted the Crown of Dawn, its glow spilling across the courtyard, mingling with her own light. Together, they stood at the center of the oath renewed.
Far below, in the Hollow's depths, the chains groaned louder, another link fracturing. The Shadow King's laughter echoed in the dark, eager, certain.
The flame and the blade were coming to him.
And he was waiting.