—The Door That Bleeds—
The doors of Stormhold groaned shut behind them, sealing Kael, Lysara, and Dain in darkness. The air was thick with the scent of wet stone and something older—*something alive*.
Kael's pendant burned against his skin.
Dain flicked a spark from his flint, lighting a torch. The flame sputtered, casting jagged shadows across the walls. "Cheery place."
Lysara stepped forward, her boots crunching on brittle bones. "This wasn't just a fortress. It was a *tomb*."
Kael's pulse pounded in his ears. The walls were carved with faded murals—figures wreathed in lightning, a king holding a sword aloft, a city drowning in blood.
*His ancestors.*
Then—
A whisper.
*"Kael."*
The voice came from everywhere. From the stones. From the air itself.
Dain raised his torch higher. "Anyone else hearing things?"
A gust of wind howled through the corridor—*impossible*, this deep underground—and the torch snuffed out.
Darkness swallowed them whole.
Then, light.
Ahead, a blade hovered midair, its edge crackling with blue-white energy.
The Stormblade.
And it was *singing*.
Kael reached for it—
The sword *moved*, slicing toward his throat.
He barely dodged.
Dain cursed. "It's got a *mind*?"
Lysara's breath hitched. "It's testing you."
The blade circled Kael like a predator.
His father's words echoed in his skull: *"Power demands sacrifice."*
Kael dropped his own sword.
The Stormblade stopped.
Then it *plunged*—
Straight into his chest.
Pain exploded—
But there was no blood. No wound.
Only *fire* in his veins.
The sword *melted* into him, its power searing through muscle and bone.
Kael gasped as lightning erupted from his fingertips, illuminating the chamber in a blinding flash.
When the light faded, the blade was *gone*.
But he could *feel* it.
*Inside him.*
Dain's grin was savage. "Well. That's new."
Lysara's eyes widened. "Kael, your *eyes*—"
A reflection in a broken shield showed the truth:
His irises now glowed with storm-light.
The Stormblade had chosen its heir.
And the Empire would *burn* for what they'd done.
The ground trembled.
Dust rained from the ceiling as a distant *boom* echoed through the ruins.
Lysara paled. "They're here."
Empire soldiers.
And they weren't alone.
A voice, amplified by magic, shook the walls:
*"Kael Aranthos! You are surrounded! Surrender, or die where you stand!"*
Kael knew that voice.
*Commander Rykel.*
The man who had slaughtered his family.
Dain cracked his knuckles. "I *hate* that guy."
Kael flexed his hands, feeling the Stormblade's power coil beneath his skin.
"Good."
He smiled.
"Then let's give him a reason."
They fought their way to the surface, Kael's lightning carving through soldiers like a scythe. Lysara moved like a shadow, her dagger finding throats. Dain? He just *laughed*, his curved blade drinking deep.
But when they burst into the courtyard—
They froze.
A dozen crossbows aimed at their hearts.
And at the center, Commander Rykel, his armor gleaming, his smile cruel.
"Kael Aranthos." He spread his arms. "You've been *missed*."
Kael's lightning crackled. "I'll kill you."
Rykel sighed. "Always so dramatic." He snapped his fingers.
Soldiers dragged forward a prisoner—
Kael's breath stopped.
*Mira.*
Alive. Beaten. But alive.
Her eyes met his, filled with tears.
Then Rykel pressed a dagger to her throat.
"Drop your weapons," he said softly. "Or she dies *now*."
Kael's hands shook.
He couldn't risk her. *Not again.*
He started to lower his arms—
Then—
*"NO!"*
A blur of motion. A scream.
Lysara *lunged*, her dagger aimed at Rykel's heart—
But Dain moved faster.
His sword *pierced* her side.
Lysara collapsed, blood pooling beneath her.
Kael's world *shattered*.
Dain wiped his blade, his expression cold.
"Sorry, Stormblood." He shrugged. "But the bounty on your head was too good to pass up."