Kaelen saw them too late.
Movement in the smoke—shapes where there shouldn't be any. Not scattered like before. Not rushing.
Waiting.
"Elira. Finn. Down."
They dropped instantly, pressing into the cold, torn earth. Kaelen crouched low, eyes straining through the gray haze. His heartbeat slowed—not from calm, but from something sharper. Focus.
A figure stepped forward.
Armor.
Not like the others.
Cleaner. Heavier. The plates caught what little light broke through the smoke, dull but solid. A long cloak hung from his shoulders, streaked with ash but still marked—purple and white.
A knight.
He didn't rush.
He walked.
Each step steady, deliberate, like he had already decided how this would end.
Kaelen felt it in his chest.
Run.
But his legs didn't move.
The knight's head tilted slightly, as if listening. Then he turned—directly toward them.
"Up," Kaelen whispered. "Now."
They scrambled to their feet.
"Run!"
They broke across the field.
The ground was uneven, churned and torn. Kaelen pulled Elira forward, Finn stumbling beside them, breath coming fast and panicked.
Behind them—
No shouting.
No orders.
Just footsteps.
Heavy.
Unhurried.
Closer.
Kaelen didn't look back.
"Faster!" he said, his voice breaking.
Finn tried.
His foot caught in a deep rut—
—and he went down hard.
A sharp cry tore from him.
Kaelen skidded to a stop. "Finn!"
"My leg—" Finn gasped, clutching it. "I can't—"
The sound came behind them.
Closer now.
Kaelen turned.
The knight was there.
Too close.
Sword already in hand.
Kaelen's breath caught.
He stepped in front of them without thinking, his hands empty, his body shaking.
"Don't—" he started.
The knight didn't speak.
He raised the blade.
Kaelen moved.
He didn't know why. Didn't think.
He grabbed a broken length of wood from the ground and swung it wildly.
The strike glanced off the knight's armor with a hollow crack.
Useless.
The knight didn't even stagger.
The sword came down.
Kaelen barely managed to throw himself sideways. The blade slammed into the ground where he had been, biting deep into the dirt.
Too slow.
Too strong.
He scrambled back, heart hammering, lungs burning.
This was it.
He couldn't stop this.
Couldn't protect them.
The knight pulled the blade free.
Raised it again—
A shout cut through the air.
"Get away from them!"
Kaelen's head snapped up.
His father.
Darrin came from the smoke like something torn out of it—hammer in hand, blood streaking his arms, his chest heaving. His eyes locked onto the knight, burning with something Kaelen had never seen before.
Rage.
Pure and unbroken.
The hammer swung.
It crashed into the knight's side with a heavy, ringing impact. The force staggered him half a step—just enough.
Darrin didn't stop.
He struck again.
And again.
Each blow heavier than the last.
The knight raised his arm, blocking one strike, then another. The impact echoed, metal against metal, sparks flashing briefly in the gray air.
"Take them and go!" Darrin shouted.
Kaelen didn't move.
He couldn't.
The fight was too close. Too fast.
Too real.
The knight shifted suddenly.
His blade came up—not wide, not wild—precise.
It slipped past Darrin's guard.
Kaelen saw it happen.
Too clearly.
The steel drove forward—
and through.
Darrin's body jerked.
The hammer slipped from his hand.
For a moment, nothing moved.
No sound.
Then the blade pulled free.
Blood followed.
Dark.
Heavy.
Darrin staggered back a step, his breath catching, his eyes flicking—just once—toward Kaelen.
There was something there.
Not fear.
Not even pain.
Just—
go.
He collapsed.
Kaelen didn't realize he was moving until he was already screaming.
"No—!"
The knight turned.
That was all it took.
More soldiers emerged from the smoke, spreading out, cutting off every path. Hands grabbed Kaelen from behind, slamming him to the ground. The air left his lungs in a sharp burst.
"Elira!" he shouted.
She fought.
Kicked.
Screamed.
It didn't matter.
A soldier struck her across the face, hard enough to send her to the ground. She didn't get back up right away.
"Finn!" Kaelen twisted, trying to reach him.
Finn was dragged through the dirt, clutching his leg, crying out in pain.
"Stop—!" Kaelen tried.
A boot slammed into his ribs.
Pain exploded through his side, stealing the rest of his breath. He choked, curling in on himself as hands forced his arms behind his back.
"Enough," a voice said.
The knight.
Calm.
Unmoved.
Kaelen forced his head up.
Darrin lay still in the dirt.
He didn't move.
Didn't breathe.
Didn't—
Kaelen's vision blurred.
Something inside him twisted, sharp and tearing.
He tried to speak.
Nothing came out.
"Take them," the knight said.
They were dragged back through Brennfall.
What was left of it.
Kaelen stumbled more than he walked, his arms bound tight, wrists burning against the rope. Every step sent pain through his ribs. He barely felt it.
His eyes searched.
Everywhere.
Every street.
Every corner.
But his father was gone.
Elira walked ahead of him, silent now, her face pale and streaked with blood where she'd been struck. Finn limped beside a soldier, barely able to stand, his injured leg dragging with each step.
They weren't the only ones.
Children.
Dozens of them.
Some crying. Some screaming. Some too quiet.
All being pushed the same direction.
The square.
Kaelen's chest tightened.
No.
Not there.
Not again.
But they didn't stop.
They were forced into the center, shoved forward until they stood among the others. The market was unrecognizable now—stalls burned to black frames, the ground stained dark.
Bodies still lay where they had fallen.
No one had moved them.
Kaelen's stomach turned.
A soldier cut the rope from his wrists.
"Stay," he said flatly.
Kaelen didn't move.
Didn't speak.
The knight stepped forward.
Now everyone could see him.
The murmuring died.
Fear settled heavy over the square.
The knight removed his helmet.
His face was older than Kaelen expected. Scarred. Cold. Uninterested.
"These lands now belong to House Veyrath," he said.
His voice carried easily.
Controlled.
"You have two choices."
No one spoke.
"You serve," he continued, his eyes sweeping over the children. "Or you die."
A sob broke somewhere in the crowd.
Kaelen's hands curled into fists.
He didn't look at Elira.
Didn't look at Finn.
He kept his eyes forward.
On the man who killed his father.
And for the first time—
the fear inside him began to change
Kaelen saw them too late.
Movement in the smoke—shapes where there shouldn't be any. Not scattered like before. Not rushing.
Waiting.
"Elira. Finn. Down."
They dropped instantly, pressing into the cold, torn earth. Kaelen crouched low, eyes straining through the gray haze. His heartbeat slowed—not from calm, but from something sharper. Focus.
A figure stepped forward.
Armor.
Not like the others.
Cleaner. Heavier. The plates caught what little light broke through the smoke, dull but solid. A long cloak hung from his shoulders, streaked with ash but still marked—purple and white.
A knight.
He didn't rush.
He walked.
Each step steady, deliberate, like he had already decided how this would end.
Kaelen felt it in his chest.
Run.
But his legs didn't move.
The knight's head tilted slightly, as if listening. Then he turned—directly toward them.
"Up," Kaelen whispered. "Now."
They scrambled to their feet.
"Run!"
They broke across the field.
The ground was uneven, churned and torn. Kaelen pulled Elira forward, Finn stumbling beside them, breath coming fast and panicked.
Behind them—
No shouting.
No orders.
Just footsteps.
Heavy.
Unhurried.
Closer.
Kaelen didn't look back.
"Faster!" he said, his voice breaking.
Finn tried.
His foot caught in a deep rut—
—and he went down hard.
A sharp cry tore from him.
Kaelen skidded to a stop. "Finn!"
"My leg—" Finn gasped, clutching it. "I can't—"
The sound came behind them.
Closer now.
Kaelen turned.
The knight was there.
Too close.
Sword already in hand.
Kaelen's breath caught.
He stepped in front of them without thinking, his hands empty, his body shaking.
"Don't—" he started.
The knight didn't speak.
He raised the blade.
Kaelen moved.
He didn't know why. Didn't think.
He grabbed a broken length of wood from the ground and swung it wildly.
The strike glanced off the knight's armor with a hollow crack.
Useless.
The knight didn't even stagger.
The sword came down.
Kaelen barely managed to throw himself sideways. The blade slammed into the ground where he had been, biting deep into the dirt.
Too slow.
Too strong.
He scrambled back, heart hammering, lungs burning.
This was it.
He couldn't stop this.
Couldn't protect them.
The knight pulled the blade free.
Raised it again—
A shout cut through the air.
"Get away from them!"
Kaelen's head snapped up.
His father.
Darrin came from the smoke like something torn out of it—hammer in hand, blood streaking his arms, his chest heaving. His eyes locked onto the knight, burning with something Kaelen had never seen before.
Rage.
Pure and unbroken.
The hammer swung.
It crashed into the knight's side with a heavy, ringing impact. The force staggered him half a step—just enough.
Darrin didn't stop.
He struck again.
And again.
Each blow heavier than the last.
The knight raised his arm, blocking one strike, then another. The impact echoed, metal against metal, sparks flashing briefly in the gray air.
"Take them and go!" Darrin shouted.
Kaelen didn't move.
He couldn't.
The fight was too close. Too fast.
Too real.
The knight shifted suddenly.
His blade came up—not wide, not wild—precise.
It slipped past Darrin's guard.
Kaelen saw it happen.
Too clearly.
The steel drove forward—
and through.
Darrin's body jerked.
The hammer slipped from his hand.
For a moment, nothing moved.
No sound.
Then the blade pulled free.
Blood followed.
Dark.
Heavy.
Darrin staggered back a step, his breath catching, his eyes flicking—just once—toward Kaelen.
There was something there.
Not fear.
Not even pain.
Just—
go.
He collapsed.
Kaelen didn't realize he was moving until he was already screaming.
"No—!"
The knight turned.
That was all it took.
More soldiers emerged from the smoke, spreading out, cutting off every path. Hands grabbed Kaelen from behind, slamming him to the ground. The air left his lungs in a sharp burst.
"Elira!" he shouted.
She fought.
Kicked.
Screamed.
It didn't matter.
A soldier struck her across the face, hard enough to send her to the ground. She didn't get back up right away.
"Finn!" Kaelen twisted, trying to reach him.
Finn was dragged through the dirt, clutching his leg, crying out in pain.
"Stop—!" Kaelen tried.
A boot slammed into his ribs.
Pain exploded through his side, stealing the rest of his breath. He choked, curling in on himself as hands forced his arms behind his back.
"Enough," a voice said.
The knight.
Calm.
Unmoved.
Kaelen forced his head up.
Darrin lay still in the dirt.
He didn't move.
Didn't breathe.
Didn't—
Kaelen's vision blurred.
Something inside him twisted, sharp and tearing.
He tried to speak.
Nothing came out.
"Take them," the knight said.
They were dragged back through Brennfall.
What was left of it.
Kaelen stumbled more than he walked, his arms bound tight, wrists burning against the rope. Every step sent pain through his ribs. He barely felt it.
His eyes searched.
Everywhere.
Every street.
Every corner.
But his father was gone.
Elira walked ahead of him, silent now, her face pale and streaked with blood where she'd been struck. Finn limped beside a soldier, barely able to stand, his injured leg dragging with each step.
They weren't the only ones.
Children.
Dozens of them.
Some crying. Some screaming. Some too quiet.
All being pushed the same direction.
The square.
Kaelen's chest tightened.
No.
Not there.
Not again.
But they didn't stop.
They were forced into the center, shoved forward until they stood among the others. The market was unrecognizable now—stalls burned to black frames, the ground stained dark.
Bodies still lay where they had fallen.
No one had moved them.
Kaelen's stomach turned.
A soldier cut the rope from his wrists.
"Stay," he said flatly.
Kaelen didn't move.
Didn't speak.
The knight stepped forward.
Now everyone could see him.
The murmuring died.
Fear settled heavy over the square.
The knight removed his helmet.
His face was older than Kaelen expected. Scarred. Cold. Uninterested.
"These lands now belong to House Veyrath," he said.
His voice carried easily.
Controlled.
"You have two choices."
No one spoke.
"You serve," he continued, his eyes sweeping over the children. "Or you die."
A sob broke somewhere in the crowd.
Kaelen's hands curled into fists.
He didn't look at Elira.
Didn't look at Finn.
He kept his eyes forward.
On the man who killed his father.
And for the first time—
the fear inside him began to change