Kaylin awoke in the dark.Not the comfortable kind of dark that hinted at sleep or the gentle closing of eyes. This was a dark that breathed. It pulsed like a thing alive, curling around his limbs, sinking into his lungs. It reeked of iron and scorched stone.
He sat up too fast. The pain arrived late, like a poor excuse, stabbing through his temples and chest. His hands trembled against the black stone floor as he looked around.
There was no ceiling.No stars.Just a cracked sky above him, glowing faintly like cooling embers. A landscape stretched out beyond the ledge where he lay, jagged and impossible. Mountains like teeth. Rivers that glowed red. And high above, circling in silence, were shadows shaped like wings.
He had never seen this place before.
But he knew it.
Something in his chest told him this was his.
A name formed behind his eyes. He didn't speak it. It would have sounded wrong in this place, too soft. But the memory of it made his breath hitch.
Emres.
He didn't know who she was. Not really. Just a face without shape. A warmth. A laugh that felt like light through stained glass. Something had been torn away from him, and in its place was this emptiness.
A voice cut through the quiet.
"You've returned, my Lord."
Kaylin turned. A figure kneeled beside the edge of the stone platform. She was tall, her eyes glowing faintly in the gloom. Armor wrapped around her like molten rock, and in her hand she held a war banner. His banner, apparently. Her voice shook with reverence.
"You fell in battle, but the Black Flame carried your soul back."
He stared at her like she was speaking a language he hadn't learned yet. Maybe she was. His own voice felt foreign in his throat when he spoke.
"What… am I?"
She looked up at him. Her expression didn't change.
"You are the Lord of the Seventh Gate. Breaker of Oaths. Flame-born. The one who will lead us into the last war."
Kaylin swallowed, throat dry as ash. The title tasted bitter. Like someone had shoved a crown in his mouth and told him to smile.
He stood slowly. The dark didn't pull him down. It moved with him. Folded around him like smoke that knew his name.
Somewhere deep in his bones, it felt natural.
He hated that.
Far above, in a sky that burned blue instead of red, Emres dreamed of fire.She stood in a field of glass, watching a man she did not know die again and again.She reached for him every time.And every time, she woke before her fingers touched his.
She sat upright in bed, breath sharp, golden light bleeding from her skin like sweat. The cathedral walls around her hummed with power. Incense smoldered. Choirs whispered her name.
High Commander. Sword of Morning. Herald of the First Dawn.
She pressed a hand to her chest. Her heart wouldn't stop racing.
She didn't know who she was running from.Only that she had once been someone else.Someone who had loved.