Dawn broke slowly over the Harthmoor expanse, seeping gold and silver through the mists that hung like ghosts over the valley floor. The trio moved in silence, their figures cutting through the thick fog, each step swallowed by the hush of dew-drenched grass.
Kael walked at the front, staff in hand. He could feel the land change beneath his feet—less stone, more pulse. As if the earth here remembered pain.
Arinya trailed behind him, eyes alert, lips pressed into a thin line. She kept stealing glances at Kael when she thought no one noticed. Doran noticed.
"So," Doran said suddenly, too loud for the quiet. "Where exactly are we going?"
Kael stopped.
"South of the moors. There's a ruin built into the cliffs. The Seer is said to live there."
Doran raised an eyebrow. "You speak like you've been there."
Kael tilted his head. "I haven't. But something in the relic... it knows."
Arinya stepped beside him. "More memories?"
"Something like that."
She didn't say it, but she could feel it too—an eerie thrum that stirred the edge of her aura. The relic was waking up.
Hours Later – Deeper in the Moors
The fog never fully lifted. Instead, it grew thicker the further they went, curling around their legs and waists like living strands of cloud. The sun had vanished behind gray.
Kael stopped abruptly. "We're not alone."
Doran unsheathed his blade. "Bandits?"
Kael shook his head. "No. Too quiet."
A soft whistle echoed from the mist ahead—slow, melodic, and unnatural.
Then came the first shape. Not a man. A creature—tall, draped in robes of mud and moss, with no face beneath its hood. It hovered, silent, as more emerged behind it. Half a dozen. Maybe more.
"The Harthwraiths," Arinya whispered. "Guardians of the old realm."
"They shouldn't be this far north," Doran hissed. "Not unless…"
"…they were drawn to something," Kael finished grimly.
One of the wraiths raised a hand, palm glowing with eerie violet light. It spoke in a voice like cracking ice.
"Relic-bearer. You carry what should not live."
Kael stepped forward. "Then come and take it."
Arinya sighed. "Every time…"
The wraiths struck fast—no sound, no warning.
Kael moved instinctively. The staff spun in his hands, a blur of silver and rune-fire. He deflected the first blast, ducked the second, then sent a pulse of energy that shattered one of the wraiths into mist.
Doran and Arinya moved as one. Arinya's blades sang, slicing through another wraith's chest. Doran slammed into a third with brute force, grunting as its claw raked across his shoulder.
Kael's staff connected with the ground—boom—sending a ripple that knocked two more spirits off balance.
But they kept coming.
Arinya landed beside Kael, panting. "We can't kill them all."
"We're not supposed to," he said. "They're not here to kill us."
Arinya stared. "You're joking."
Kael gritted his teeth. "They're here to test me."
He stepped forward again. "I know you," he said quietly. "Not from this life. But from before."
The wraiths hesitated. One stepped closer, whispering, "Then prove your memory is true."
The world bent.
For a split second, Kael was no longer in the moors—but somewhere else.
A battlefield.
Fire. Screams. A shattered sky.
A younger version of himself stood atop a mountain of stone, staff blazing with energy. Opposite him—a woman. Not Arinya. Someone else. Eyes burning with betrayal.
"You said you would protect us."
Kael blinked—and the vision was gone.
The wraiths had vanished.
He dropped to one knee, chest heaving.
Arinya was beside him in an instant, hand on his shoulder. "Kael?"
"I remember," he whispered. "Just a glimpse. But it was me. I failed them."
Arinya's hand tightened slightly, then pulled away.
"You're not that man anymore," she said. "Whoever he was."
Kael didn't respond. Doran stood nearby, watching them both. Silent.
Later That Night – Harthmoor Outskirts
They made camp on a cliff overlooking the valley. The fog rolled below like an endless ocean.
Kael sat with his back to a stone outcrop, staff across his knees. He'd barely touched his food. His vision had shaken him more than he let on.
Arinya approached with a fresh bowl. "Eat. Don't make me feed you."
He cracked a small smile. "Tempting."
She sat beside him, offering the food. Their fingers brushed. Both pretended not to notice.
"You don't have to carry it alone," she said softly.
Kael didn't answer right away.
Then, quietly, "You say that now. But what if what I carry... turns me into something else?"
She looked at him then—really looked.
"No relic controls you. You control it."
He turned toward her, expression unreadable.
"You speak like someone who's seen what relics can do."
Arinya's face shifted. "Maybe I have."
Before he could ask more, Doran called out. "Hey. Romantic hour's over. I hear hooves."
Both turned. Sure enough, the sound of galloping echoed from the eastern ridge.
A scout arrived, cloaked and bleeding, nearly collapsing off his horse.
"Urgent—message for Arinya."
Her heart clenched. She stepped forward, catching the scroll before the man fainted.
She read it quickly. Her face paled.
"What is it?" Kael asked.
Arinya didn't look at him.
"…My homeland. Under siege."