The scent of iron filled the air.
Kael Ardent stood in the center of the battlefield, his armor cracked, his blade dripping crimson. Around him lay the bodies of enemies and comrades alike—silent, cold, forgotten.
He breathed heavily, but his heart was calm.
The battle was won. The war was nearly over.
And yet... he felt no peace.
A rider approached through the smoke, clad in silver armor bearing the royal crest. A familiar face. His friend. His brother in arms.
"Kael," the knight called, dismounting quickly. "You must come with me. Now."
Kael frowned. "What is it? Has the king summoned me?"
The knight avoided his eyes. "Yes... and no. There are rumors. Dangerous ones. They say you plotted against the crown."
Kael's grip on his sword tightened.
"What madness is this?" he demanded. "After everything I've done for this kingdom? For him?"
But he already knew.
He'd seen it coming — the looks, the whispers, the growing distance from the court. A knight who rose too high. A servant who was no longer useful. A threat in the eyes of the throne.
The trap had been laid.
He sheathed his sword and stepped forward. "Very well. Let them hear me. I have nothing to fear."
The knight looked away. "You won't be taken to the palace."
Kael froze.
From behind, soldiers emerged — not enemy, but his own. Royal guards.
Steel rang out as they drew their weapons.
"This is the king's will," the knight whispered. "I'm sorry."
Kael didn't resist. He stared up at the burning sky — and for the first time in years, he felt cold.
They dragged him in chains to the cliffside — a secret execution.
No trial. No justice.
Just silence.
"Any last words?" one of the guards sneered.
Kael looked down at the abyss below, then at the sword still strapped to his side — the one gifted by the king himself.
He laughed softly.
"I gave my life to the crown," he said. "Now I give my death to vengeance."
And with that… they pushed him.
The fire below swallowed him whole.
But Kael Ardent did not die.
He burned.
And from the ashes... he would rise.