The rain hadn't stopped for three days.
It poured over the broken stone pillars, the crumbled arches, and the scorched remains of the Riven estate — once the proud home of the noblest bloodline in the southern Mortalis province. Now, it was nothing more than blackened rubble.
Kael Riven stood alone in the center of the ruins, rain cascading down his ash-covered coat, his obsidian-black eyes staring into the heart of a burned memory. In his right hand, he clutched a silver locket — the last relic of his mother. Inside it was a painting: his family, smiling… whole… before they were slaughtered.
Before Damon Rhys — his best friend — betrayed him.
Before Lyra Hale, the girl he had once believed was his entire world, turned her back on him and walked into Damon's arms.
And before Lucien Drax, the shadow-cloaked monster of Elyndor, unleashed his flame-born beasts upon them all.
"I will burn it all down," Kael whispered, voice tight and hollow. "For every breath you stole from them… I will return a thousand screams."
Lightning cracked above the heavens. A flicker of Aether — the energy only few could wield — surged in his fingertips.
Kael had not always been like this.
He had once been kind. Naive, maybe. But filled with purpose. He studied at the House of Flame & Frost, Mortalis' greatest academy for elemental channelers. He had dreamed of becoming a protector of the realm — a Sentinel, defender of the innocent.
But that dream died the day Lucien Drax stepped out of the Veil.
---
Three Years Ago
Kael had been training when the ground split open beneath the academy. Shadows spilled from beneath, too cold and too alive to be human. Lucien Drax — immortal, ageless, marked by a deep scar across his chest — had crossed into Mortalis from Elyndor, the immortal realm long sealed by the Ancients.
Kael's father, General Therin Riven, led the fight to repel him.
He never returned.
Rumors said Lucien wasn't just seeking power — he was seeking something lost. A curse that bound him to both realms… and the Riven bloodline held the key.
Kael's entire family — mother, sister, uncle — gone in one night.
And Kael?
Betrayed.
It was Damon Rhys who opened the gate that allowed Lucien in.
And Lyra Hale — the girl Kael loved — handed over the coordinates of the Riven stronghold, in exchange for Damon's life.
---
Present Day – A New Name, A New Scar
Kael tightened the locket and slipped it into his coat.
He wasn't just a channeler anymore. Not after what he had endured.
He was marked — touched by Aetherion, a forbidden power whispered of in immortal lore. Power too chaotic to tame, and too deadly to ignore. It coursed through him like liquid fire, carving glowing lines into his skin when he used it.
Mortals feared him.
Immortals wanted to kill him.
He no longer belonged to either world.
Kael turned to leave the ruins, his boots sinking into the mud. He didn't care where he went. All that mattered was the next name on his list.
He would find Damon.
And Lyra.
And after that… Lucien.
---
A Strange Encounter
Hours passed. The rain became mist. Kael made his way through the wild forests beyond Blackvale, the edge of Mortalis where only rogues and banished souls wandered.
That's when he felt it — a flicker of energy behind him.
Someone was watching.
He spun, summoning Aetherion into his palm, lightning dancing around his fingers.
"Show yourself," he warned.
A silhouette stepped from the shadows — graceful, calm, not afraid. A woman cloaked in midnight blue, with raven-black hair and sharp eyes that gleamed with calculation.
"I would lower your hand," she said softly. "Unless you enjoy setting fire to the forest."
Kael narrowed his eyes. "Who are you?"
She gave him a faint smirk. "Someone who knows what you're hunting. And maybe why you're losing."
He stepped closer, energy still crackling. "Speak. Or I won't hesitate."
"I'm Elira Veyne," she said, tossing him a small crystal. "And if you want to get to Damon Rhys before he ascends to the Elyndor High Table… you'll need my help."
Kael caught the crystal mid-air. It pulsed faintly — not just a locator crystal, but a memory shard. Only high-ranked spies carried such.
He studied her carefully. Beautiful, elegant, but dangerous.
"What's in it for you?" he asked.
Her smile widened. "Revenge. Just like you."
---
To Be Continued…