"Sit."
Kael obeyed. In front of him, Ilya sat cross-legged on the cold stone floor, seemingly unfazed by the biting air. The afternoon light crept through the window, casting a silhouette on her face that Kael still couldn't quite read.
"From now on, I'll teach you about the Mark. But remember this. The Mark is not a tool. Nor a blessing. It is… an unavoidable lie."
"But you said it was the truth," Kael said.
Ilya nodded. "It is. But understand: truth, when you're unprepared, always feels like a lie."
Kael stayed silent. The warmth from the Mark on his chest pulsed again.
Ilya took a deep breath.
"There are two kinds of Marks. The Outer Mark—and the Inner Mark. You already have the latter. That means you're not borrowing power from something. You are the power."
"What about the Outer Mark?"
"They're the ones who climb the Ladder. The ones who perform rituals, the ones who 'Ascend'. But they are always… bound. You are not. That's why they will fear you."
Kael felt his heart tremble.
"What is the Ladder?" he asked.
Ilya looked into his eyes. "The Ladder is a path built from Shadows, toward Light. But only those willing to lose themselves can climb it."
"So… they give something up?"
"They give up everything."
Kael didn't speak again.
But inside him, something was forming.
Not like a seed in soil—more like something growing out of the cracks in the world.