The ruins of Elgrath lay silent beneath a veil of fog. What had once been a proud city now stood as broken stone and twisted iron, a graveyard for dreams that had burned away long before my second life began. I dismounted at the edge of the crumbling gate, leaving my cloak drawn tight around me. The air smelled of ash and old rain.
Every step I took echoed faintly against the stone. The ghosts of memory stirred with each sound. I had fought here once, years ago, when I was still human. I remembered the clash of steel, the roar of fire, the cries of soldiers who had followed me without question. Now, I returned as something else entirely.
The letter had said to come alone. I kept my hand close to my sword all the same. Shadows moved between the fallen arches, and I could feel eyes on me long before I saw anyone.
"You came," a voice called out from the mist. It was rough, familiar. A figure emerged from the shadows : a man in worn armor, his once-bright crest now dulled by time and blood. My heart clenched. I knew that face.
"Lareth," I breathed. "You're alive."
He stepped closer, disbelief flickering in his eyes. "I could say the same, if I believed it. You died. I saw your body with my own eyes. Yet here you stand, wearing the face of a demon prince."
I lowered my hood. His hand went instantly to his blade, rage twisting his features.
"Don't," I said quietly. "I didn't choose this."
"Didn't choose?" He laughed bitterly. "The hero who saved us becomes the monster we swore to destroy, and you call that fate? Do you have any idea what your disappearance did to the world? The kingdoms fell into chaos. The wars began again. People died believing you would return."
His words struck harder than any sword. "I didn't abandon them," I said, forcing the truth past the knot in my throat. "I was taken. Reborn. I didn't ask for this life."
"Then why live it?" he snapped. "You could have ended it. Instead, you wear their crown. You lead their armies. You kill our kind."
I felt the fire rise inside me, that same dangerous pulse of demon magic I struggled to control. "I've killed to stop a greater war," I said. "To keep both sides from tearing the world apart. You think I enjoy it?"
He hesitated, the anger in his eyes flickering into something else : doubt, perhaps even pity. Then his gaze hardened again. "You can say whatever you like. But to the world, you're a traitor. A ghost wearing a demon's skin. And now that I've seen you, others will know too."
He turned to leave, but I stepped forward, catching his arm. "Wait. If you tell them, it will destroy everything I'm trying to do. The demons will see it as betrayal, the humans as heresy. The war will never end."
He looked back at me, his jaw tight. "Then give me one reason not to expose you."
For a long moment, we stood there, surrounded by the quiet ruins of a dead city. I could see the pain in his eyes : not hatred, but grief. The grief of someone who had believed in me once.
"Because I'm still fighting for them," I said softly. "Even if they never know it. I'm still fighting for the same world we both wanted."
Lareth said nothing. The wind carried the sound of his breath, uneven and heavy. Then, slowly, he sheathed his sword.
"I'll give you time," he said at last. "But one day, Aren, or whatever you've become, you'll have to choose. You can't save both sides forever."
He disappeared into the mist, leaving me alone with the silence.
When I finally returned to my horse, the fog had begun to lift. In the distance, I saw the faint outline of the rising sun. It was small, almost fragile, yet warm enough to pierce the gray.
As I rode back toward the capital, the words he'd left behind stayed with me. He was right. I could not live between two worlds forever. Sooner or later, I would have to decide which side of the fire I belonged to.