Ever since they had left Velmont, Kael had been feeling something strange coiling in her chest. It wasn't sharp or overwhelming—it was quiet, like a whisper at the back of her mind—but persistent. At first, she thought it was excitement. Then perhaps fear, or anger. Maybe even anticipation. But none of those emotions ever fully settled into place. It gnawed at her subtly, like an old wound beneath armor.
And now, as the grand green doors opened with a regal creak, and her eyes fell upon the figure standing just beyond, the emotion hit her like a tidal wave.
Guilt.
There he stood.
No longer the small boy with a voice too loud for his frame and eyes that twinkled with mischief—Elias had grown into a handsome, composed young man. His fiery red hair fell around his shoulders, not unlike their mother's, and his pale orange eyes shimmered with recognition. He looked like Sereïna. It made her heart twist.
Kael froze.
For a moment, she forgot how to breathe. The guilt she'd buried deep for years surfaced, raw and unforgiving. The guilt of having survived that night. Of having run while her family was torn apart. Of growing older while believing he never would. That guilt had followed her like a shadow she pretended not to see.
And now it towered over her.
She clenched her fists at her sides, nails biting into her palms. Her throat felt tight.
He remembered me.
"It has been a while, sister," Elias said softly, his voice a warm, trembling thread. His smile was more genuine than anything Kael had seen in years. There were tears in his eyes—tears he didn't try to hide.
The king, standing at his side along with the elven princess, made a quiet gesture to excuse themselves. They left without a word, followed by Riven, closing the door gently behind them.
Kael still stood motionless. Her legs felt heavy, her heart even more so.
He remembers me.
A sob escaped her lips before she could stop it. Her body moved before her mind could catch up. And then she was in his arms.
She broke.
Fifteen years of silence shattered in that embrace. The weight she had carried—the sleepless nights, the hopeless days, the unspoken agony—melted away under the warmth of her brother's arms.
"It sure has," she whispered back, voice cracked, breath trembling.
She clutched the fabric of his robes, unable to contain the flood.
"I should have—hic—I should have looked for you. Even if—hic—even if the chances were low... I should have..."
Her voice broke again, choked by sobs.
Elias held her tighter.
"You were just a child, sister," he said, voice shaking. "Just like me. What could you have done? You ran. You survived. That alone... that's enough."
He pulled back slightly to look at her, his hands holding her shoulders. His eyes were red, but his smile held steady.
"I'm not mad. I never was. How could I ever resent you? You're here. You're alive. That's more than I ever dared hope for. I thought I'd never see you again, and now... gods, I'm so happy I could die from it."
Kael couldn't reply. She just cried harder.
Elias guided her gently to the couch. She collapsed into it like someone whose strings had finally been cut.
He sat beside her, still holding her hand.
"I used to think you were a dream," he said quietly. "I remembered your voice, but some days, I couldn't remember your face. I would get angry with myself for forgetting. I thought maybe it was punishment."
Kael turned her head slowly, eyes still wet. "I remembered most of them. Every laugh. Every stupid argument. I carried all of it. I kept going because if I stopped... I would've drowned in it."
There was a silence between them, but it wasn't hollow. It was full of memories. Of lives lost and found again.
"I'm sorry," Kael whispered.
Elias leaned his head against hers. "Don't be. You came back. That's all that matters now."
Kael closed her eyes, letting his presence anchor her. She felt like Kael again—not Solis, not a fugitive, not a survivor, not the archer of Ravaryn. Just Kael. A sister reunited with the only family she had left.
And she wept—not out of guilt or fear, but out of overwhelming, shattering relief.