Morning arrived in silence. The dew clung to every surface, and the mist hung thick in the air, curling like living smoke around Kaen's boots. The Shrouded Peak towered above him, wreathed in fog, its presence ancient—almost sentient. It felt less like a mountain and more like a memory carved into the sky.
Kaen tightened the straps on his pack and began his ascent. The trail was narrow, slick with moisture, and barely visible beneath the ever-thickening mist. Each step was a leap of faith, driven by instinct more than sight. Something unseen called to him, like an invisible thread pulling him upward.
Time lost meaning.
The mist whispered around him. Not words—impressions. Feelings. Echoes of something old. He heard his name.
Once.
Then again.
"Kaen…"
He stopped. "Who's there?"
No answer. Only the rustle of mist through rock and the echo of his breath. And then—humming. Faint, melodic. A lullaby?
Ahead, the fog parted. A figure stood in the distance—tall, cloaked in white, face hidden beneath a hood. Silent.
Kaen's hand moved to his sword. "Show yourself."
The figure did not respond. The humming grew louder, then… silence. The figure dissolved into the mist.
Kaen surged forward, but the path had changed. No longer jagged stone, but smooth steps carved into the mountain—ancient, deliberate. Strange runes glowed faintly along the edges, matching those on his map.
His pulse quickened. "This place… it remembers."
As he climbed, the air grew heavier. The whispers became voices. Names. Places. Secrets.
Then—visions.
They struck like lightning.
A woman with silver hair, standing atop a burning battlefield. Her eyes radiated the same flame that Kaen had come to fear within himself.
A shadowed man wielding a sword that bled darkness, standing against glowing beasts beneath a dying sun.
A child—hidden in the arms of a dying guardian as the world crumbled around them.
Kaen staggered to his knees, breath caught in his throat. The power within him surged, not with violence—but with resonance. The mountain wasn't just showing him memories.
It was remembering through him.
Suddenly, the world shifted.
He stood in a chamber—not real, not physical. A vision. Runes lined the walls. At its center stood a pedestal, and on it, a glowing orb. The chamber hummed like a heartbeat.
A voice echoed—not spoken, but felt.
"You were never meant to awaken alone."
Then, it was gone. He was back on the mountain.
The mist had grown colder.
He reached the summit.
The peak stretched flat before him—a plateau encircled by jagged stone pillars. At the center lay an ancient seal, etched deep into the rock. Around it stood remnants of a ruined structure, thrumming faintly with dormant energy. The same symbol from his map—circle with an X—burned at its heart.
Kaen stepped onto the seal.
The earth trembled.
Above, the sky darkened, and the mist rose, coalescing into a vast, spectral face—its eyes twin suns, staring through him.
"You carry a legacy not only of power," it said, "but of war."
Kaen's hands shook, but he stood firm.
"The world remembers. Do you?"
The seal pulsed beneath his feet. His sword trembled at his side. And then—clarity.
A flood of truth burst within him.
His mother—a warrior, a guardian of the Veilbound Pact, a secret order that sealed away gods no one dared to name. His father—not of this world. Not truly human.
Kaen's voice cracked. "Then… what am I?"
The spectral face faded. In its place, a glyph on the seal began to glow. From it, a pendant rose—silver, engraved with the circle-X.
Kaen took it.
The moment his fingers closed around the metal, something inside him unlocked. Not a power—an understanding. The whispers became words. The fog in his mind lifted.
And with that clarity came a single, chilling warning:
"She is coming."
Kaen looked up. Dark clouds gathered. A storm loomed.
He now had answers. But far more questions followed.
He wasn't just a remnant of a forgotten bloodline.
He was the final thread between a sealed past… and an awakening future.
To be continued…