The fire had long since burned down to glowing embers, barely casting light beneath the pale morning sky. Kaelen sat upright, his back straight, as if sleep hadn't claimed him at all. His eyes reflected the red glow like coals themselves, unmoving and unreadable.
The forest was silent. Not even birdsong stirred.
He looked down at his weapon Hollow Spine coiled beside him like a dead serpent. Its edge was dulled from the last battle, the bone ridges weathered from wear. He'd tried sharpening it last night, scraping it against rock until his fingers bled. But by morning, the whip had reverted. As if it resisted change. As if it mocked him.
Kaelen stood, picking it up slowly .
"…Even my weapon refuses to change," he muttered. "But I will."
He wrapped the whip at his hip, slung his ragged cloak over his shoulders, and started walking.
The woods thickened as he headed east, branches clawing at him. The trees whispered memories and doubts clinging to the edges of thought but he ignored them. Emotion was a weight he'd burned away. Or so he told himself.
Hours passed. The light shifted. And then, voices.
Low. Cautious. Slurred.
He ducked low behind a thicket, narrowing his eyes toward the clearing ahead. Half a dozen men stood around a caged cart. The cart rattled as something or someone struggled inside. Shackles. Cloth muffled cries. Human trafficking.
Kaelen exhaled quietly. No hesitation. He stepped into view.
The closest man blinked. "Oi who the hell are y-"
A flicker of bone and wind.
Snap.
Crack.
Scream.
The first man's throat opened in a streak of red before he hit the ground. Chaos erupted. Steel scraped from sheaths. Orders were shouted. But Kaelen was already moving.
He danced through them, The weapon shifted in his hands bones locking, straightening.
It was now a blade.
Steel met 'steel' as the third man swung an axe. Kaelen parried, then stepped in and ran the sword through his gut. A twist. A pull. The man collapsed.
A fourth tried to run. Hollow Spine unwound mid-motion, curling around the man's leg. Kaelen yanked back with brutal strength, sending him crashing to the earth with a crunch.
Only one remained, backed against the wreckage of the caravan, trembling.
"P-please," the man begged. "I didn't know. I didn't know! God… please… have mercy."
Kaelen walked toward him, eyes like as still as stone. Hollow Spine rested at his side, slack.
He said nothing at first. Then, calmly and emotionlesly:
"Every breath you still take in my presence… is a sign of his mercy."
And then, with finality, Hollow Spine struck.
Silence again. Only the wind moved.
Kaelen stood over the corpse, letting the weight of the moment pass through him. Not into him. Just through.
He turned to the cart. The captives inside stared with a mix of awe and terror.
"Go," Kaelen said simply, cutting the locks. "Find somewhere safe."
They ran. But one boy hesitated eyes wide, whispering a prayer not of fear, but reverence.
Kaelen didn't hear it. He was already walking east, toward whatever version of himself he had become. the forest swallowing his silhouette.