Chapter 2: Whispers of the Absolute
Kael Draven tightened the straps of his battered leather armor, his breath clouding in the early morning air. The city of Archeon loomed behind him, its crumbling spires clawing at the gray sky. He glanced back once more at the place he had called home—if it could be called that. Nothing but ruins now, broken streets littered with memories of loss and survival.
"Leaving already?" a voice drawled from the shadows.
Kael turned, his hand instinctively going to the hilt of his sword. From the alley emerged a man cloaked in black, his face hidden by a hood. The figure moved with unsettling grace, his boots silent against the cobblestones.
"I don't have time for riddles," Kael said, his voice sharp. "Who are you, and why are you following me?"
The figure chuckled, low and soft. "You've made quite a name for yourself, Kael. A wandering mercenary who fights without fear. But fear isn't your driving force, is it?"
Kael's grip on the hilt tightened. "Say what you want. I don't have anything to prove."
"Don't you?" The figure stepped closer, his face finally illuminated by the weak sunlight. He was older than Kael had expected, his skin pale and lined, his eyes sharp and unnervingly bright. "You're chasing something. Power, perhaps? Purpose? Maybe it's just an escape from the scars you carry."
Kael stiffened but said nothing. The stranger's words felt like a dagger piercing something he'd long buried.
"I have no time for your games," Kael said, turning away.
"But what if I told you there was a way to become more?" the man called after him. "More than human. More than mortal. A way to rise above your limits."
Kael stopped mid-step. He turned slowly, his eyes narrowing. "Keep talking."
The man smiled, his teeth white and sharp. "Ah, I knew I had your attention. You've heard the stories of the Absolutes, haven't you? Beings of untouchable power. Men and women who transcended mortality itself. What if I told you those weren't just stories?"
Kael said nothing, but the memory of the God-King's death flashed in his mind. He had been a boy then, standing among the terrified crowd as Eryon fell from the heavens, his once-glorious form reduced to ash and broken light. Even then, Kael had known: power like that wasn't divine. It was earned.
"You're lying," Kael said, though his voice lacked conviction. "The Absolutes are gone."
"Not all," the man replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "The Veil of Eternity remains. The path to Absolute power is still open—for those willing to pay the price."
Kael's heart raced. He had heard of the Veil only in hushed tones, buried in myths told around campfires. A realm beyond reality, where one could confront the truth of existence and rise above it.
"And what would you know about the Veil?" Kael asked.
The man's smile widened. He reached into his cloak and pulled out a worn, leather-bound journal. "This belonged to Eryon himself. His final words, his final map. Everything you need to find the Veil."
Kael stared at the journal, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. "What do you want in return?"
The man's smile faded, his expression turning serious. "Nothing. I give this to you freely. But understand, once you take it, there's no turning back. The path to the Absolute will demand everything from you—your strength, your mind, your soul. Few survive the journey."
Kael hesitated for only a moment before stepping forward and taking the journal. "I'm not afraid," he said.
"You should be," the man replied, his voice cold. "Fear is the only thing keeping you human."
With that, the man vanished into the shadows, leaving Kael alone with the journal in his hands. He opened it slowly, the brittle pages crackling under his fingertips. Inside, he found sketches of impossible landscapes, riddles scrawled in an ancient tongue, and diagrams that seemed to twist and shift as he stared at them.
At the bottom of the first page, a single phrase stood out, written in bold, jagged letters:
"The path lies within, but the cost is everything."
Kael's jaw tightened. He had always sought strength, a way to rise above the chaos and weakness of the world. Now, for the first time, he felt the weight of what he had chosen.
He closed the journal and turned toward the horizon.
The journey to the Absolute had begun.