Kael stumbled forward, enveloped in darkness. It was the kind of darkness that consumed not just the light, but every trace of existence. He couldn't see, couldn't feel, couldn't even hear anything. It was as if the world itself had ceased to exist. He reached out instinctively, but his hand was met with emptiness, a cold, void-like sensation that offered no sense of direction.
In desperation, he drew upon his mana, trying to create a spark—something to illuminate this abyss. He summoned a small flame, a fire that should have blazed brightly, but the moment it flickered to life, it seemed to lose its strength. The fire struggled to spread, as if the darkness itself was suffocating the light, smothering it until the warmth it should have provided was reduced to nothing more than a faint, weak glow.
The fire was dormant here, too weak to fight the overwhelming force of the darkness. Kael's chest tightened with unease. How could this be? His mana wasn't this weak. This place—this void—was doing something to him.
With no other choice, he began walking, his steps slow, as though his legs were moving of their own accord. His body, weak from hunger and exhaustion, pressed on against his will. He had no idea where he was going, or how long he had been walking. Time lost meaning here, and Kael could feel his sanity slipping as his mind drifted in and out of focus. He couldn't even track the passage of time—hours, days, months? Or was it years?
His feet were covered in blood now, each step sending a sharp pain through his body, but still, his legs carried him forward. His body was fragile, worn from the lack of food and water, but it didn't stop moving. He had thrown away his rations days ago, abandoning them in his flight from the beast that had pursued him. He had barely escaped with his life.
And yet, despite his agony, he couldn't stop moving.
It was then that a flicker of light pierced the oppressive darkness. But this wasn't a normal light—it wasn't the kind that illuminated everything in its path. No, this light was different. It was a strange, flickering mixture of fire and darkness, intertwining in a way that Kael had never seen before. It glowed faintly, yet the darkness seemed to bend around it, not fighting it, but dancing with it.
There was something beautiful about it, but also something dangerous. Instinctively, Kael's body recoiled. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to run, to get away from this light, but his legs moved on their own. He couldn't control it. He was being pulled toward it, as though the light itself was calling him, guiding him, and despite every instinct to the contrary, he found himself standing in front of it, feeling the heat emanating from the fire.
The moment he stood in its presence, the fire burned him.
Kael's body was consumed with pain. It was as if every part of him—every fiber of his being—was being scorched by an inferno. It wasn't just his skin; it was his very soul that felt as though it were being burned alive. The pain was so intense, so unbearable, that for a moment, Kael thought he would collapse into nothingness. But even then, he couldn't scream. His throat was dry, his body wracked with agony, and all he could do was endure.
He wanted it to stop.
The fire, this consuming, endless pain—it was too much. It was too intense. The desire to escape it, to end it, became overwhelming. His sword, always with him, was the only thing that remained in his grasp, and in the haze of pain and madness, Kael brought it up. He couldn't think clearly anymore, the only thought in his mind was to stop the pain, to end it once and for all.
The blade hovered just above his throat. He could feel the cool metal against his skin, the familiar weight of the sword that had always been by his side. He was going to do it. He was going to end his suffering, to end it all, and release himself from the inferno burning his soul.
And then, an image flashed in his mind—Liana.
Her tear-streaked face, eyes red from crying, her voice echoing in his ears. "I'm waiting for you, Kael. I'll wait for you no matter what. Please, come back..."
Her words, so simple, yet filled with so much emotion, struck Kael harder than anything else. Elira, too, her face from the past, her complex feelings for him, all tangled up in her hatred, love, and confusion. But it was Liana's face that haunted him the most. The promise he had made to her. The promise that he would return, that he would come back no matter what.
I can't do this to her... I can't be the cause of her sadness.
He gritted his teeth, his hand tightening around the hilt of the sword. The intense pain still raged within him, but his resolve hardened. The fire may have been burning him, but he would not let it consume him. Not like this. Not without fulfilling his promise.
With a final scream, he fought through the pain, his body trembling but standing strong against it. The fire that burned his soul was relentless, but so was Kael. He had promised Liana. He had promised.
And then, as if answering the resolve in his heart, something shifted.
The pain began to subside. The fire that had been consuming him slowly started to fade, its intensity diminishing bit by bit. The darkness around him remained, but the light—the strange, fire-like light—flickered weaker now, as if it had burned itself out.
Kael collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath, his sword slipping from his grip. His vision blurred, and he could feel his consciousness fading, slipping away into the darkness. But before everything went black, a voice spoke—deep, ancient, and so impossibly distant, it seemed to come from another world.
"A strange individual indeed..."
And then, everything went silent.