The valley narrowed.
Mist turned to smoke. The air changed—dry, then wet, then… wrong. The world felt tilted, like reality buckled under some ancient weight.
Kael stopped.
Too late.
The chains came first.
They exploded from the rocks, coiling like serpents, lashing toward Sarya's throat. Kael grabbed her and twisted just in time—one chain sliced across his back, blood hissing into the cold air.
Nerra vanished into shadow, striking from the side with blades flashing. But her attack passed through empty air.
The Harbinger appeared behind her.
Chains spiraled outward like black wings. Its face was still—a smooth iron mask, eyeless, mouth sewn with wire. Flames leaked from the cracks in its skin, a mockery of Kael's own fire.
Kael roared and struck.
His fire collided with the Harbinger's chest, but it didn't scream. It absorbed the blow, skin glowing red-hot, then surged forward with inhuman grace.
Kael blocked its strike—barely—and was thrown back against a cliff wall.
"What the hell is that?!" Sarya screamed.
"A mistake I made," Kael spat, wiping blood from his lip.
The Harbinger raised both arms.
Chains shot forward like fangs.
Kael dove—grabbed Sarya—and shouted, "Nerra, now!"
The assassin threw a black crystal to the ground.
Shadow erupted.
In that instant, they vanished—into the cliffside, through an illusion Kael had etched long ago. Behind them, the Harbinger screamed for the first time.
It was not a sound of pain.
It was rage.
Below, the tunnel spiraled downward, carved into volcanic stone. Old runes flickered as Kael passed, awakening after years of silence.
Sarya gasped. "This place… it remembers you."
Kael didn't respond. His breath was shaky. His flame flickered in the dark.
They reached a wide chamber. A dais. A single stone tomb, black and cracked.
Etched into it: Kael's old sigil. The Phoenix Crest.
Kael stepped forward. A memory rose—not a vision, but a pull.
His hand touched the seal—and the world broke open.
A flood of memory
A temple burning. His lovers dead. His most trusted councilor—Vaelen—kneeling beside him as poison laced his veins. Sarya's face—not her face now, but another lifetime. Eyes of gold. Wings of starlight.
And a voice.
"Rise, Kael. You are more than vengeance."
He staggered back.
Sarya caught him.
"What did you see?" she whispered.
Kael looked at her—really looked. And for the first time, he didn't see the girl who fled into his fire.
He saw the key.
"You were with me. Before. You died... because of me."
Sarya's breath caught.
Nerra watched in silence, unreadable.
Kael stood.
"I remember now. The Harbingers weren't soldiers." His voice hardened.
"They were punishment. I made them to destroy what I loved so I could never go back."
He turned toward the dark exit of the tomb.
"Well, I've come back."
And far above them, the Harbinger waited—its body cracked, leaking fire. Its head tilted again.
The Marked had entered the past.
Now the past would chase him.