The morning in Westbridge was not gentle, It peeled open like a wound, the sky was a sickly gray, low and heavy like it had something to hide. Kael stood on the edge of an abandoned rail track just beyond the station, a rusted path once used to ferry supplies into the heart of the city's underground, the place was forgotten now, like many things in his life, but still carried echoes that made his skin tighten,
Sai stood beside him, arms folded against the wind. She hadn't said much since they left the outskirts that morning. Her eyes had that glassy edge, like she was watching memories she wasn't ready to speak aloud. The only sound was the occasional rattle of a loose pipe and the distant call of a train that would never come, Kael took a breath. "Why does this place feel familiar?" Sai glanced at him. "Maybe because you were meant to come back."
She pulled out the journal, her grandfather's and flipped to the marked page where the phrase had been scribbled: "Westbridge holds the breath of kings. "He looked at it again, slower this time, as if trying to breathe the words into memory, They found the entrance buried behind a wall of ivy and cracked cement, partially concealed by a collapsed wooden fence. It didn't look like much just a rusted gate leading into a dark stairwell but Kael's chest pulled tight the moment they found it, like a string inside him had been tugged, Sai reached for his hand before he even realized she had. "You okay?" Kael nodded, even though he wasn't. "Let's find out what breathes down there.
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The Descent
The stairs were steep, damp, and long-forgotten. Their boots scraped against stone slick with age. The deeper they went, the more the light faded behind them. The narrow beam from Kael's torch danced along the walls, revealing murals long faded symbols, names, and crests that once meant something, Then they saw it.
At the bottom of the stairwell, carved deep into the wall like a signature to time itself, was the crown.
Three eyes. One closed, One wide open, One cracked.
Kael stepped closer, tracing it with his fingers. A chill ran down his spine. "Why does this feel like it's been waiting for me?" Sai whispered, "Because maybe it has."
The Chamber
The door wasn't locked. It simply knew. It gave way beneath Kael's hand, creaking inward to reveal a long rectangular room , lined with bookshelves, stone benches, and one raised platform in the middle. On it rested something he never expected to see.
A ledger.
Huge, ancient, bound in black leather with golden corners. The edges curled slightly, brittle from time but untouched by dust, He walked toward it, slowly, as though the ground beneath him might shatter from the weight of this moment. Sai stood back, breath caught in her throat, Kael opened the ledger.
The pages were thick, delicate, and covered in slanted writing. Line after line of names, dates, symbols—and then… His name, Kael Eron, Written in the same ink as the others, Sai stepped closer, peering over his shoulder. "You're in their records?"
"No," Kael whispered. "I'm in their bloodline."
He turned the page.
Then he saw it. His father's name. Not as a businessman. But as a Keeper. One of the chosen watchers of the ledger, the ones assigned to protect or destroy it, depending on who was in power, Sai's hand clutched the edge of the table. "Kael… you were never abandoned. You were hidden." A pause...
Kael let out a slow, broken breath. "Which is worse?
The Truth They Buried
The pages unfolded more than bloodlines.
They detailed betrayals. Power struggles. How certain heirs were made to vanish when they posed a threat to those in power. There were symbols of broken pacts, rituals undone, and at the center of it all, the pendant.
The ledger called it The Thread of Return. Said to pulse only in the presence of a rightful heir when his story had been severed but not yet forgotten, Kael leaned against the stone, eyes shut. The echoes in his chest weren't just his own anymore. They were inherited. Buried.
Stolen.. the Break in Him, later, they stepped outside the chamber, both of them changed.
Kael sat on the rail, legs dangling like he used to do as a boy in his mother's compound. But his gaze wasn't childlike anymore. Sai sat next to him, silence between them again, but not empty. Heavy. Real.
"I used to think," Kael began quietly, "that being left meant I wasn't good enough. That if my father loved me, he wouldn't have let me disappear, "He turned to her. "But maybe it wasn't love or hate. Maybe it was fear. Fear of what I carried."
Sai nodded. "I think they knew. And they tried to bury it. But… some threads, Kael… they never cut clean."
His gaze softened. "You stayed."
She smiled faintly. "I did." And then...without warning he kissed her.
It wasn't rushed. It wasn't desperate. It was slow, intentional, and honest. Like he was thanking her. Like he was apologizing. Like he was telling her he didn't want to be a story of loneliness anymore.
Sai kissed him back. And when they pulled away, their foreheads rested against each other.
"I think I've loved you," she whispered. "Since the day you fixed that broken teacup and said nothing about it."
Kael laughed under his breath. "I was scared your mom would throw me out." Sai smiled. "She might still."
And in that moment, despite the shadows beneath the city and the history resting heavy on their backs, they felt whole.
Aboveground
But peace is a fragile thing... As they walked back toward the city edge, a black car passed them slowly. Its windows tinted, its presence too intentional.
Kael's eyes narrowed. "We're being watched again."
Sai nodded, reaching for the pendant around her neck. "Let them watch."
Kael clenched his fists. "This time, I'm not hiding. Not from my father. Not from Elsie. Not from anyone who thought burying me would be enough."
"They tried to cut your story short," Sai said. "But we just found the pages they forgot to burn."
Kael turned to her, voice steadier than it had ever been.
"Then let's write the rest of it ourselves."