Sanctum Arclight pulsed with quiet purpose now. Its once-growing bones were now fortified, classrooms buzzing, sparring halls alive with voices of discipline and hope, and the corridors alight with the new generation of Awakened.
The dream Arasha fought for had, at last, taken shape.
And yet, beneath the surface, something felt wrong.
Not in the structure. Not in the people. But in the rhythm of her circle—especially him.
Kael.
He was offbeat. He smiled still. Spoke clearly. Did his duty. But Arasha could see the shadow behind his eyes when he thought no one was looking.
But she hadn't acted. Not yet. She'd had too many fires to put out. Too many lives to stabilize. Until…
The sun was just cresting over the horizon when Leta stormed into Arasha's private war chamber.
"You need to stop ignoring Kael."
Arasha, halfway through briefing a courier, blinked. "He's handling the South Marsh settlement situation—"
"That's not what I meant." Leta's voice was sharper than usual. "He hasn't spoken more than five words to anyone unless it's about duty for the past three weeks."
"He's always quiet when he's focused—"
"No. He's not quiet. There's something wrong, Commander. He's withdrawn and distant."
That stilled her.
"He's withdrawing, he's just keeping things to himself. Dark lonely things," Leta said, softer now. "And you're the only one he listens to. The only one he might still open up to. If you don't see that—then you're as blind as the nobles you keep fighting."
There was silence. Arasha's fingers clenched around her briefing parchment.
Is there something wrong with Kael? Was I too complacent in thinking he's fine, even with all the tasks I gave him?
"Where is he?"
"The northern wall. He goes there when he doesn't want to be found."
****
Arasha found Kael perched on the ramparts of the fortress' northern perimeter. His cloak fluttered in the dusk breeze, and his gaze was fixed on the distant scar of a rift glowing dimly on the horizon.
She didn't announce herself. Just stood beside him until he finally spoke.
"It wasn't supposed to be like this."
His voice was brittle, like something breaking behind it.
"You said that before. You've said it a few times. But now…" she paused, "I think you need to tell me what you really mean."
He didn't look at her. Not at first.
"When I first came here… I thought I had an advantage. My awakened skill—it mapped out this world, this war, your role… everything."
"And now?"
He laughed softly, bitterly.
"Now I don't know where we are. The rift events are accelerating. Entire factions that didn't exist in the early arcs are here. Some of the gods weren't even part of the game. There was no Sanctum Arclight. No informed awakening system…and you were supposed to die in the next Culling event…"
That last line hit harder than it should have.
Arasha turned slowly. "What do you mean?"
Kael finally looked at her, his expression stricken.
"You were supposed to die first before the gods call the awakened to enhance their blessing with a price…but you're still alive."
Silence stretched between them like a blade.
"So you think this is wrong? That you change the path?" she asked, voice unreadable.
Kael ran a hand through his hair. "I thought I was helping. But what if I disrupted too much? What if me pushing for the sanctuary… for all these reforms… brought things early? What if I'm making it worse?"
His voice cracked.
"I was so sure I could help. That I should help. But what if all I've done is corrupt the system this world was built on? What if I'm the reason we're not ready for what's coming?"
Arasha stepped forward.
"Kael. Look at me."
He did.
"You may have brought change. But you didn't do it alone. You didn't force my hand. You didn't drag this kingdom forward. We walked it together. And every life saved because of it, every Awakened given choice, every family protected—that is not corruption."
"But the timeline—"
"To hell with timelines!" she snapped. "This isn't a 'what if' scenario that your foresight portrayed. This is our reality. People bleed. People love. People choose here."
She reached out and pressed a hand to his chest, right over his heart.
"And you? You're more than just a man with a blessing. You've become part of the Scion Order. You've earned the loyalty of our people. The trust of my knights. Of me. That doesn't come from a gift, a blessing, or foresight. That comes from your soul."
Kael's breath caught. His eyes burned.
"What if we still fail?"
Arasha's expression softened.
"Then we fail together. But not because you didn't try."
She stepped back, her voice gentle now.
"Come back to us, Kael. We need you. I need you."
And for the first time in weeks, he nodded—slowly, hesitantly, but truly.
"Okay… I'll try."
The wind had grown colder. The world beyond the fortress wall stretched in silence, yet Arasha and Kael stood still, suspended in the fragile aftermath of confession.
Neither spoke for a long while.
But the tension in the air hadn't quite left.
Arasha's gaze drifted from the horizon to Kael's posture—still taut, coiled like a spring, despite the vulnerability he'd just offered her.
"You always do that," she said quietly.
Kaelen blinked. "Do what?"
"Hold it all in until you're close to shattering."
He let out a dry laugh. "Says the woman who collapsed from divine exhaustion while yelling orders mid-battle."
That earned a small, almost surprised chuckle from her.
"Point taken," she admitted. "We really are alike in that way… Making people worry without meaning to."
Their eyes met, a silent understanding passing between them.
Then Arasha stretched her arms overhead and rotated her shoulders with a soft sigh. "Come."
Kael arched an eyebrow. "Where?"
"To the west training yard. I want to spar."
He stared at her. "You just recovered."
"Exactly. I'm cleared. And you—" her eyes narrowed with playful challenge, "—have too much tension bottled up. It's time you let it out."
****
The training yard was quiet, save for the distant clinking of armor and torches dancing against the stone.
Arasha had removed her outer uniform, dressed now in a simpler tunic and reinforced gloves. Kael followed suit, stepping into the ring barefoot, eyes warily on her.
"You sure this isn't a trap to make me eat dirt for questioning you earlier?"
"You wouldn't be wrong to worry."
She smirked and then lunged.
Steel wasn't involved. Only the fast rhythm of hand-to-hand—fluid strikes, counters, and footwork echoing in the dirt.
Kael was agile. Smarter with each round. But Arasha, despite her healing body, was a predator trained by war itself. She flowed like lightning, never once overextending but always pushing.
Minutes bled into more, until both were panting, their clothes clinging to sweat-slicked skin.
Kaelen dropped to his back, breath ragged, chest heaving.
"Alright… I yield. My pride is shattered, Commander."
Arasha, standing over him, hands on her hips, let out a laugh.
"Good. Now maybe you'll stop clenching your jaw every time someone breathes wrong."
Kael turned his head to the side, looking up at the stars. "Was that your plan all along?"
"Partly. I also needed to remind myself that I have people to rely on and not to be complacent."
She sat beside him, breathing slowing.
And then, in the quiet that followed, Arasha looked at him—really looked.
His face, flushed from exertion, still carried the softness of youth. A young man trying too hard to shoulder a future that didn't belong to him. Eyes too tired for someone his age. Shoulders too burdened.
And it hit her, like a whisper in the back of her mind.
"You're still young," she said softly. "Even with all your strength, your clarity… you're still just a boy. A boy thrown into a war you didn't choose."
Kael turned his head toward her again, something flickering in his gaze.
"I forget that sometimes," she murmured. "That you've done so much—too much—for someone your age. I forget… because I relied on you."
There was no accusation in her voice. Only guilt. And awe.
"You amaze me, Kael. You truly do."
Kael's throat worked around a lump. "You're the first person who's ever said that to me without expecting me to live up to it."
Arasha looked away briefly, watching a pair of fireflies dance near the outer wall.
"Then it's long overdue."
A few seconds passed before she added, almost to herself:
"I should protect that spark in you. Not keep fanning it into a flame until you burn out."
Kael smiled faintly, closing his eyes.
"Too late for that, Commander."
"Then I'll just have to make sure it never dies."
Kael smiled, a boyish and innocent smile.