Cael stood at the threshold of the enclave, boots sinking slightly into the moss-covered stones that ringed the outer path. Vines, heavy with dew, crawled up the walls of the old outpost like time itself had tried to claim it. Cracked archways, overgrown with flowering ivy, framed doorways of weathered wood and stone. The place felt suspended in a fragile bubble of silence ancient, solemn, and sacred.
The enclave, once a sanctuary of Ashwalkers and Emberborn alike, was built in a crescent formation around a central wellspring. The air shimmered faintly above the basin, essence rising from the depths in tendrils of soft white light. Around it, a ring of structures part barracks, part meditation chambers formed the heart of the enclave. Etchings, old runes of protection and remembrance, had been carved into every surface, some glowing faintly, others nearly erased by time and weather.
Korr led Cael and Darian to a low stone building closest to the wellspring. "This was the healer's hall," Korr murmured, his voice hushed as though not to disturb something sleeping. "They'll be safest here."
Inside, the air was cool, tinged with herbs and old incense. Cael helped lower Darian onto a narrow cot, the elder's breaths shallow and uneven. Korr activated the internal wards with a quiet chant, and the runes flared briefly with pale blue light.
There were only two residents left in the enclave: Old Maret, the last surviving Ashwalker of his generation, and his grandson, Fen. Maret was gaunt and white-bearded, with deep-set eyes that had seen too many winters. His back was bent, but his gaze was sharp as ever. He greeted Korr with a tired nod and studied Cael like one might a storm cloud: with wary respect.
Fen, by contrast, was barely older than Cael. Seventeen, maybe eighteen. Lithe and wiry, with sharp cheekbones, dark bronze skin, and eyes like molten silver. His hair was bound in braids threaded with bone and obsidian, markers of his training. He moved like a shadow quiet, precise, always watching.
That first night, after tending to his father and exchanging few words with Korr, Cael stepped out beneath the stars. The sky was clear and wide, an ocean of black pierced by silver. He couldn't sleep. His cores still hadn't returned, and the weight of that silence gnawed at him like a parasite. So he walked.
The forest around the enclave pulsed with quiet life. Distant cries, rustling branches, the low growl of something far off. Cael gritted his teeth, adjusted the grip on his daggers, and moved through the undergrowth like a wraith.
His first encounter was with a stray marrowcat a long, skeletal feline beast with a skull-like face and spines down its back. He evaded its pounce, slashed twice across its ribs, and finished it with a clean strike to the throat. It dissolved into black smoke. No core hum. Just silence.
The second was harder. A bramblewretch, all thorns and sinew, cornered him near the edge of a ravine. Its vines lashed at him, drawing blood from his arms. He barely managed to bait it over the ledge, sending it crashing down into the chasm below.
Every night for four nights, Cael hunted. Never too far. Never more than one creature. Korr watched from afar each time, unseen, his sword always at the ready, his presence like a ghostly guardian. But Cael never saw him.
The fifth day dawned gray and bitter.
Mist hung low over the enclave like a shroud, clinging to the stones, veiling the sky. The air was thick with the kind of silence that made Cael's bones ache. He hadn't slept. Not really. The hunts had left his body tired, but the grief the fear kept him awake.
Inside the healer's hall, Darian lay still.
Too still.
Cael sat beside him, one hand gripping the old man's, the other resting lightly on his father's chest, as if trying to keep the breath inside with touch alone.
The air was cold against his skin.
Darian's eyes fluttered open for the first time in a day. His chest rattled, his breath shallow like leaves skittering across stone. Cael leaned in, heart lurching in his throat.
"Dad?" he whispered. "I'm here. I'm right here."
Darian's lips cracked into a faint, pained smile. His eyes dim now, glassy with the end found Cael's, and something like peace drifted into them. He coughed, a weak rasp that drew a thread of blood from his lips. Cael wiped it away with shaking hands.
"I… I heard you," Darian whispered. "Out there. Fighting."
"I had to," Cael said, voice cracking. "You weren't waking up and the cores were gone and I... I didn't know what else to do."
"You… did good." His voice was barely more than breath. "Korr… he always said you'd be… fire and storm. That you'd fight for something… not just against it."
Tears streamed down Cael's cheeks now, hot and relentless.
"You're going to be fine," he lied. "You'll get better. We'll get you to the mountains, or the coast. Somewhere clean. We'll find someone"
"No," Darian interrupted softly. "Don't… don't waste time on me."
His hand, dry and shaking, closed weakly around Cael's. "You've got light inside you, son. And shadow, too. That's not a curse. It's a bridge. You can be what I never was."
"Don't say that," Cael choked. "You were everything to me."
"I was just a tired old man," Darian whispered. "But you… you're just full of life."
The stillness grew louder.
A final breath.
And then
A pause.
Darian's lips moved once more, barely forming the word.
"Live."
His eyes closed.
The grip on Cael's hand loosened.
And then his world shattered.
Cael let out a sound that didn't feel human part scream, part sob, part something hollow being torn wide. He fell forward, forehead against his father's chest, clutching at the cooling body like maybe he could anchor the soul back into it.
But the light was gone.
And in that exact moment
A bloom of heat.
And cold.
Twin flames, one gold, one void-dark, ignited deep in Cael's chest.
His breath hitched. His fingers spasmed. The light flared down his arms, curling over his skin in glowing veins, wrapping him in shadow and radiance alike.
The cores.
They were back.
Not a flicker.
Not a whisper.
They came back roaring.
His grief had woken them. Or maybe… they had waited until he truly needed them. Until something inside him broke wide open and could carry them again.
Cael gasped, stumbling back from the cot, staring at his hands. Light and shadow rippled over his skin like silk caught in wind.
"Dad…" he whispered again, a prayer now. "You didn't get to see it."
The door creaked.
Fen stood there, silent, watching. Not intruding. Not speaking.
Cael turned, face streaked with tears, and said, "He's gone."
Fen only nodded once, solemn and slow. "I know."
And then, without a word, he stepped inside and helped Cael lift the body.
But it was over.
When Korr reached him. He placed a hand on Cael's shoulder but said nothing. Just stood there, solid and silent as a mountain.
Fen wanted to say something but he couldn't find the words, he was remembering his own parents death and imagining what would happen to his grandpa while he is gone. So he waited to say something, after the rites had been done, when the pyre still smoked and the morning mist hadn't yet lifted.
Then he talk of the subject he knew the best:"I watched you fight," Fen said, his voice quiet. "You're reckless."
Cael looked up, his face hollow. "Yeah. I know."
"You're also not afraid," Fen added. "That's rarer."
They sat in silence not knowing what to talk about. Cael hoped that his father was at peace now, that he might be in heaven if such a place existed. He wanted to think that it was better this way, because he wasn't in pain anymore, and that now he was reunited with his mother but in reality Cael only felt despair. He was scared of the futur and angry about the past, he didn't know what he was going to do with his life.
And that's when Fin said: " I'm sorry Cael but the date when I leave for my trial is geting closer, so I have to train."
Cael blinked. "You're going alone?"
Fen nodded. "Do you see any other people in this ruin?."
Cael turned toward the smoldering pyre. His fingers flexed. His cores pulsed softly.
"Take me with you."
Fen tilted his head. "You seem like a good fighter but I don't trust you yet. We've only known each other for five days."
"I vouch for him." said Korr with a solemn tone
Cael looked at him with eyes full of emotion and thanked him. That's when Korr added:" Be carefull, the road kills the unready."
Cael looked back at him. "Then let it try."
Korr stared for a long moment, then nodded once.
And just like that, the next journey began.