The wind over the shattered cliffs howled like a dirge for forgotten kings.
Kael stood at the edge, his cloak torn by the chill, eyes fixed on the distant shimmer of Del'mor, where fog clung like secrets refusing to die. The mark beneath his skin pulsed faintly — not of pain, but of something deeper.
Identity.
For the first time in seventeen years, Kael knew who he was.
Ren Verradin — heir to a bloodline erased by fire and betrayal.
Behind him, Riven dropped a bundle of sticks with a grunt.
"You planning to stare at the horizon until the world ends, or do you actually sleep now?"
Kael didn't turn. "We leave at dawn."
Riven scoffed. "Sure, Ashen Prince. Should I find you a crown too?"
Kael's silence stretched long enough to make Riven pause. Then the mercenary stepped closer, serious for once.
"…You're different," he muttered. "Since that memory returned. It's like something else is walking in your skin."
Kael finally looked at him — not as the silent servant, but as the boy who had once stood beneath burning skies, watching his kingdom fall.
"I was never meant to survive," he said. "But I did. And now… I must find the one wearing my name."
---
Down near the base of the ravine, Lyra knelt over the small fire, humming softly as she prepared an herbal paste. She didn't look up as Kael approached.
"I saw the symbol on your chest," she said. "The one that burns with memory."
He sat beside her without a word.
"You were royalty once," she continued, voice low. "But not like the nobles of today. Yours was a name people whispered with reverence. The Ashen Sigil hasn't appeared in centuries."
Kael stared into the flames. "It's not power I seek. It's the truth. If the world called my bloodline a curse… I want to know why."
Lyra turned, pressing a cool hand to his. "Then I'll follow you into that curse."
---
📜 Somewhere Else — In the Shadows of Del'mor
Inside a broken temple deep beneath Del'mor, a figure stood before a cracked obsidian mirror.
"My liege," a hooded assassin whispered. "The Ashen Sigil has stirred."
The figure removed their mask, revealing a handsome, cruel smile.
"Then let the world prepare to kneel."
In their hand, a forged version of the Ashen Sigil glowed — a counterfeit, born of blood rituals and stolen memory.
"Let Ren Verradin come. Let him remember. And let him fall… again."
---
🛣️ Back at Camp – The Final Night Before Departure
Kael watched as Riven sharpened his blades and Lyra packed the last of her medicines.
He rolled up his sleeve. The Ashen Sigil shimmered faintly on his arm — not ink, not scar, but a living seal. Something inside the Shadow System had changed. The usual icy monotone voice had grown… quieter. Watching. Waiting.
> [System Notice: Shadow Evolution Pending…]
[Legacy Trait "Nameless Soul" adapting to Ashen Sigil…]
Kael muttered to himself, "So even you fear what I'm becoming…"
But the system did not answer.
He stood and faced the stars, wind brushing his face like the memory of another life.
Tomorrow, he would walk into a city where ghosts wore masks, where his name was both weapon and curse.
Tomorrow… the Ashen Prince would walk again.
---
End of Chapter 21
---