Kael lay sprawled across the cold stone floor, the lingering taste of iron thick in his mouth. Every breath came with a searing twinge in his ribs, but he welcomed the pain—it reminded him he was still alive, still fighting. His cough echoed through the chamber, and blood splattered across the dusty ground. The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the sound of his ragged breathing.
"Let them come," he muttered hoarsely, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His voice was raw, but his eyes blazed with unbroken defiance.
The trial had left its mark—not just on his body but deeper, somewhere in the chaotic swirl of energy that now pulsed faintly in his core. The soul imprint, always a whisper at the edge of his mind, now hummed with unsettling clarity, as if it had awoken alongside him.
His hands trembled as he pushed himself upright. Pain radiated from his chest, but he grit his teeth and forced himself to stand. Falling down was fine—staying down wasn't an option.
The door creaked open behind him.
"Kael!"
Saria's voice carried a rare sharpness, a tremble beneath the usual calm. She hurried to his side, catching him just as his balance faltered. Her arms wrapped around his waist, her spiritual energy instinctively flowing into him in a gentle wave. Her warmth steadied him more than he wanted to admit.
"You're bleeding again," she whispered, inspecting the reopened wound beneath his robes.
"Yeah, well, apparently I forgot to read the part in the manual that said 'don't get impaled by your own soul imprint.' My bad," Kael rasped, managing a crooked smile.
Saria gave him a look—equal parts exasperated and concerned. "You should be resting, not... whatever this is."
"This?" Kael gestured vaguely. "This is me embracing my natural magnetism for disaster. Comes with the charm package."
She didn't smile.
Instead, her fingers lingered on his arm, her brows furrowing. "What happened in there? You weren't supposed to push your body like that. I could feel the backlash from outside the trial chamber."
Kael leaned against the nearest wall, his expression sobering. "It wasn't just the trial, Saria. Something... reacted inside me. The imprint wasn't just guiding me. It was testing me. Like it wanted to see how far I'd go before breaking."
Saria's eyes widened. "You think it's sentient?"
"I think it's bored," he replied dryly. "And it enjoys watching me bleed."
Her lips parted as if to protest, but then they both felt it—the shift in the air.
The chamber darkened slightly, shadows curling at the edges unnaturally. A presence entered the room, so silent and smooth it was like a breeze cutting through fog. Kael's eyes flicked toward the doorway—and there she stood.
Aeryn.
She wore a high-collared black robe trimmed with silver thread that shimmered faintly like moonlight. Her long hair, braided into intricate cords, framed a face that was both youthful and ageless—sharp cheekbones, cold gray eyes, and lips set in a line of detached elegance.
Her aura didn't scream power. It whispered it, insidiously. Quiet, calculated, absolute.
Saria instinctively stepped in front of Kael, her stance protective.
"You're not supposed to be here," she said, voice cautious but firm.
Aeryn stepped forward, utterly unconcerned. "And yet, here I am."
Kael pushed off the wall with a grunt. "Great. Another vague entrance. Do I need a secret password to understand what's going on today?"
Aeryn's gaze slid to him. Her eyes were like polished silver—beautiful, but unreadable.
"You're stronger than I expected," she said after a long pause. "Most would have died during that trial. Or gone mad."
"Well, I've always had a talent for disappointing people's expectations," Kael replied. "It's practically a family trait."
Her expression didn't shift, but something flickered behind her eyes. Interest, maybe. Or recognition.
"You joke to mask the confusion," she said.
"No, I joke because everything else is too exhausting," Kael shot back. "And I don't like being stared at like a puzzle box with teeth."
Aeryn tilted her head slightly. "Perhaps because that's exactly what you are."
Kael frowned. "Oh good, another enigmatic weirdo with secrets. Just what I needed. Tell me—are you here to recruit me, threaten me, or give me an unsolicited life lesson?"
Saria looked between the two, a crease forming between her brows. "Kael, be careful—"
"I am careful," he interrupted, not taking his eyes off Aeryn. "I'm just also incredibly irritating when I'm in pain."
Aeryn finally moved closer, her steps light but measured. She stopped a few paces away and studied him like one might examine a rare artifact—valuable, dangerous, and possibly cursed.
"You're bound to something ancient," she said softly. "Something even you don't understand. But it's watching. And it remembers."
Kael's humor faltered.
He took a slow breath. "You've seen it?"
"No. But I've felt it. Your imprint hums with echoes of a deeper presence. One that shouldn't exist anymore."
Saria stepped forward. "What are you saying?"
"That Kael's soul imprint is not just a power—it's a tether. Something is connected to him through it, and it's awake."
A silence stretched between them, tense and uneasy.
Kael finally broke it. "So let me guess—you're here to help me unlock its full potential, train me, guide me through some secret ancient ritual that requires me to scream dramatically at the sky while thunder cracks behind me?"
Aeryn's lips curved slightly. Not a smile—more a suggestion of one.
"You're amusing," she said. "But dangerously naive."
Kael shrugged. "Naive is better than dead."
"No," she corrected, "naive gets you killed."
The weight of her words dropped like a stone into the room. Even Saria looked shaken.
Kael narrowed his eyes. "Then tell me what you do want. I don't have time for dramatic pauses and riddles."
Aeryn studied him for a moment longer, then turned toward the door. "You'll find out soon enough. Just know this—if you survive what's coming, seek me out. I'm not your enemy. But I'm not your savior, either."
And just like that, she vanished—one step into the hallway, and her presence dissolved like smoke.
Kael stared after her, pulse thundering in his ears.
"Was that... normal?" he asked weakly.
"No," Saria said, stepping close again. Her fingers grazed his hand without thought. "And I don't like that she knew so much about your imprint."
Kael didn't answer immediately. His thoughts churned—Aeryn's words had struck something deeper than fear. They'd awakened something old and cold within the imprint, and he could feel it now, pulsing quietly like a second heartbeat.
He looked at Saria, her eyes still filled with worry, her touch steady on his wrist. In that moment, the chaos dulled. She was the anchor in the storm.
"Thank you," he murmured.
Saria blinked. "For what?"
"For being here. Even when I'm bleeding, sarcastic, and apparently housing some ancient cosmic ghost."
She smiled faintly. "Someone has to keep you in one piece."
Kael leaned his head back against the wall, exhaling long and slow. "Let's hope that someone doesn't have to carry me next time."
"Next time?" she echoed, eyebrow raised.
"Yeah." He smirked, eyes narrowing. "Because apparently the real trials are just beginning."