Chapter 1 – Ashes of Forever
Let me carry your pain… if that's the price for saving them."
Those were the words Kael had spoken a thousand years ago.
Words he would regret forever.
The village burned in the distance. Flames curled into the sky like fingers of an angry god. Kael stood at the edge of the firelight, untouched by time, untouched by heat.
He had stood here before.
Not in this exact place—but in fire, in ruins, with smoke in his lungs and ashes in his hands.
Always the same ending.
A Thousand Years Ago
She screamed his name as the soldiers came.
"Kael! Take her—run!"
But Kael wouldn't leave them. He was a knight. A healer. A husband. A father.
The war had come too fast.
His wife, Liora, held their daughter, Aiva, in her arms. Just a child. Just three years old.
Kael fought. He killed. He bled. But in the end, it wasn't enough.
By the time the swords stopped swinging, Liora was dying. Aiva was cold in his arms.
He screamed at the heavens, kneeling in blood and ash, holding their broken bodies. "Take me instead! Bring them back!"
And the world... answered.
The CurseA figure appeared. Cloaked in twilight. Neither god nor demon, but something older.
It offered a bargain.
"If you wish to carry the pain of all who suffer… so they do not have to... then live forever. And remember. You will walk across ages, never able to forget a single moment, never able to die, never able to save anyone again."
Kael didn't hesitate.
"Do it."
The figure smiled—a smile colder than any grave.
And Kael became what he is now: a vessel for grief, cursed to never die, and cursed to remember everything.
Present Day – 1,000 Years Later
The village was gone now. Not the first. Not the last.
Kael stood beneath a cherry tree that hadn't bloomed in centuries. He reached into his satchel and pulled out two tiny items:
A child's ribbon, faded pink.
A locket with Liora's name etched inside.
He dropped to one knee and whispered to the wind.
"I remember your laughter, Liora. I remember how Aiva tried to walk by copying your steps. I remember your last breath. I remember everything."
His voice cracked, but no tears came.
He hadn't cried in 700 years.
He tried once to end his own life—jumped from cliffs, drank poison, begged soldiers to strike him down. But the curse held him firm.
Death was no longer for him.
Only memories.
The Boy – RenA voice broke the silence.
"Mister… are you okay?"
Kael looked up.
A child stood before him. Dirty-faced, with soot-streaked cheeks, clutching a rusted pendant.
"You dropped this," the boy said.
Kael blinked. The pendant wasn't his. It was… Aiva's. But that was impossible. He lost it centuries ago.
He took it gently. "Thank you."
"Are you from the burning village?" the boy asked. "My mom told me to run. I think she didn't make it…"
Kael stared at him. The boy was maybe nine. Maybe younger. Brown hair, wild eyes. And innocence.
So much innocence.
"What's your name?" Kael asked.
"Ren," the boy smiled faintly. "You?"
Kael paused.
He hadn't spoken his name aloud in decades.
"…Kael."
Ren's stomach growled. He laughed, embarrassed.
Kael handed him a piece of old bread.
The boy ate eagerly, crumbs falling like snow. Then he sat beside Kael as if they'd always known each other.
"Can I come with you?" Ren asked.
Kael closed his eyes. He saw Liora. Aiva. Every person who had ever sat by his side.
And then faded into the earth.
He should have said no. He should have walked away.
But instead, he whispered:
"Come then. Walk with a ghost."
As they walked beneath the dead cherry trees, Ren's small hand slipped into Kael's.
And Kael, cursed with memory, knew:
This boy would also become a memory.
A name on the wind.
Another piece of sorrow.
But still... he walked forward.
Because grief was the only thing that kept him moving now.