The last remnants of darkness in Kael's mind began to thin, but in their place came an overwhelming weight. It wasn't pain—he'd long become familiar with pain—it was dread, pure and choking. His fingers flew to the burning mark on his chest. The soul imprint, usually dormant, now pulsed violently, as if beating to the rhythm of something ancient, something angry.
She's coming.
The voice didn't belong to him. It was a whisper from the imprint, sharper than ever before. Female, melodic, but laced with a coldness that scraped against his mind. Kael staggered slightly, clenching his teeth as the heat intensified beneath his skin. His knees almost buckled, but a firm hand steadied him.
Saria was at his side in a flash, her expression tense. "Kael," she said sharply, scanning his face. "What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."
Kael forced himself upright, the burning pain simmering into a dull throb. "Not a ghost," he muttered, eyes darting around the forest clearing. "Something worse."
The wind shifted unnaturally. Leaves rustled in a strange rhythm, like whispers threading through the trees. Saria turned her head slightly, her instincts kicking in. "Tell me what you felt."
"The imprint," Kael said, gripping his sword. "It's reacting. Like it knows who's coming."
Saria's brows furrowed. "Who?"
Kael hesitated. His voice dropped to a whisper. "I don't know. But she's close—and it's not going to be pretty."
As if summoned by the weight of his words, a wave of chilling wind swept through the clearing, unnaturally cold. The trees bent slightly toward a single direction, their branches swaying as though bowing in fear. The earth itself seemed to vibrate—subtle, but undeniable.
Saria unsheathed her twin daggers in one fluid motion, sliding into a defensive stance. "We need to move."
But Kael didn't. He couldn't. The imprint throbbed against his chest like a heartbeat—her heartbeat. It was pulling him toward the darkened woods at the edge of the clearing, guiding him like a compass.
He barely whispered the words: "She's already here."
And then they saw her.
From the shadows between the trees emerged a figure cloaked in black. Her movements were impossibly smooth, as though she floated rather than walked. The moment she crossed the threshold into moonlight, the air thickened. The surrounding space dimmed slightly, as if even light was wary of her.
Her hood obscured her face, but her presence said more than features ever could. Raw, unrestrained power clung to her like a second skin, and Kael instinctively knew—this was no ordinary enemy. She was tied to the imprint. She was the imprint. Or its creator.
"You've come far," the woman said, her voice as smooth as polished obsidian. "But the tether you carry was never meant for you."
Saria stepped forward, standing slightly in front of Kael. "Who are you?" she demanded, her voice firm. "What do you want with him?"
The woman tilted her head slightly. "I want what was taken. What never should've left me."
Her gaze locked on Kael, and the imprint flared so violently that he stumbled, clutching his chest.
"Stop it!" Saria snapped, lunging forward.
With a lazy flick of her hand, the woman sent Saria flying backward as if struck by an invisible wall. She slammed into a tree, the impact cracking its bark. Kael's eyes widened. "Saria!"
She groaned, already trying to push herself up, but the air around her shimmered—an invisible force holding her in place like gravity had tripled in strength.
Kael turned toward the cloaked figure, fury rising in his throat. "Let her go!"
"Or what?" the woman purred. "You'll strike me down? You can't even withstand my presence without falling to your knees."
Kael gritted his teeth, his grip tightening around his sword. "Try me."
The woman chuckled—a sound that was neither mocking nor amused, but curious, like she was watching a cub attempt to roar. "Very well, let's see what you've become."
With a single motion, she flung her cloak aside. Her face was still shrouded in shadow, but the air around her crackled with energy—raw spiritual force, dense enough to make Kael's skin prickle.
She raised a hand, and black tendrils of energy surged toward him.
Kael moved, drawing his sword with a smooth flourish. His feet shifted into a stance Saria had drilled into him during sparring sessions. The first tendril came fast, but Kael ducked under it, pivoting, slicing through the second with a burst of silver spiritual energy.
The air exploded with sound. The clash echoed through the trees like a thunderclap.
Kael's mind raced. Every movement drained his stamina, and the imprint didn't help—it pulled at his essence like a parasite, feeding off the proximity to its origin.
"She's not just powerful," Kael muttered through gritted teeth. "She's linked to the damn thing."
The woman moved with terrifying grace, her hand weaving sigils Kael didn't recognize. Symbols formed midair—ancient, glowing red, like molten script.
Kael lunged before she could finish. His sword ignited with white flame, his spirit energy surging into the blade. He slashed diagonally, aiming for her chest.
She caught the blade between two fingers.
Kael's eyes widened in disbelief.
She met his gaze. "Pathetic."
Then she unleashed a shockwave from her palm. The force blasted him across the clearing like a ragdoll. He hit the ground hard, tumbling through brush and rock, until he lay breathless and stunned.
The imprint flared again. But this time… something changed.
A second voice echoed within it—familiar, warm, buried under layers of shadow.
Fight her, Kael. She doesn't own you.
The voice didn't belong to the woman. It was someone else.
Kael's fingers curled into the dirt.
Saria struggled to her feet, her breath ragged, blood dripping from a gash on her forehead. "You're not taking him," she growled.
The woman raised a brow. "You're brave for someone so… disposable."
She lifted a hand again—but this time, Kael rose.
Silver light burst from his body, the soul imprint glowing like a second sun beneath his shirt. He shouted as the energy surged through his limbs, painful but empowering.
The woman paused.
Kael stood firm, his body shaking. "You don't own me. You never did."
He thrust his palm forward, releasing a blast of spirit energy so condensed that it tore a crater in the ground.
The woman slid back for the first time.
Her smile vanished.
Kael breathed heavily, blood trailing from the corner of his mouth. "Yeah, that's right. I've got sarcasm and explosions. Bad combo for you."
Saria hobbled toward him, breathing hard. "Still think we can't beat her?"
"Nope," Kael grinned through the pain. "But we're going to be annoying as hell trying."
The woman's cloak billowed as she stepped back into the shadows.
"This isn't over," she said coolly. "I'll return when the tether is weak again. And when I do, no amount of sarcasm will save you."
And then she vanished—like a breath in the wind.
The forest fell still.
Kael dropped to one knee, gasping. Saria fell beside him, panting. "We're so screwed."
"Yup," Kael muttered. "Totally. Let's enjoy the five seconds we have left of life before she comes back."
They both lay back in the grass.
Silence.
Then Kael asked, "Do you think she's into me?"
Saria slapped his shoulder without looking.
"Worth a shot," he muttered, closing his eyes.