The cold was eating Kael as the night wore on. The settlement's shabby buildings offered no protection from the wind that howled through the alleys like a beast. His stolen cloak did nothing to keep him warm and he felt the chill seep into his bones.
As he walked through the dark streets he saw a faint orange light in the distance. It flickered in the darkness like a torch, calling to him. The source revealed itself as a small fire in a rusty old drum. A man and a woman sat huddled around it, their faces lined and worn from hardship.
The man looked up as Kael approached, his eyes narrowed for a moment before softening.
"You cold, stranger?" the man asked, his voice rough but not unfriendly. He nodded towards the fire. "Plenty of room here if you want to warm up."
Kael hesitated, looking at their faces. The man's hollow cheeks and patchy beard told of long nights and short rations. The woman beside him looked younger, her eyes bright but wary.
Her hands hovered near her lap where a crude glint lay half hidden under a thin blanket.
Kael weighed his choices. The fire was warm and the cloak wasn't doing the trick. He nodded and sat down on an upturned crate beside the drum.
"Thanks," he said and held out his hands to the fire. The warmth was lovely and chased the cold from his skin.
\—
They sat in silence for a moment, the only sound the crackle of the fire. Then Roran spoke.
"Name's Roran," he said, holding out his hand. Kael shook it, noting the callouses on his palm—marks of a worker or a fighter.
"This is Lira," Roran said, nodding towards the woman. She smiled faintly, but did not seem relaxed.
"Kael," he said.
Roran chuckled. "Not much for words, huh? Can't blame you. Place like this doesn't exactly encourage small talk."
Kael, as usual, didn't answer, he let the silence stretch. Roran shrugged and leaned back, his eyes on the fire.
—
"We came here two months ago," Roran said after a moment, his voice carrying a weight that seemed to settle over the fire they huddled around.
"From a little mining town on the edge of nowhere. Place was dead. Jobs had dried up, people were turning on each other. When the Nexus opened to our world, we thought… maybe this was our chance."
Lira, who had been quietly stirring the remnants of their meager meal, spoke up, her tone soft but filled with a distant hope.
"They said the higher Reaches were like heaven. A place where the strong could live like kings and queens. No hunger, no sickness… just endless Etherion and freedom. A paradise for those who could rise to claim it."
Roran snorted, his expression twisting into something bitter. "Guess we should have known better. The First Reach isn't a proving ground—it's a graveyard. If the Ravagers don't kill you, the people will. And the higher Reaches?" He shook his head, his gaze distant. "Maybe they are like heaven, but they're a long way from here. You don't just walk in. You fight for every inch, every breath, and most people don't make it. But we can't go back now."
Kael remained silent, his face unreadable.
The flickering firelight danced across his sharp features as he listened. They spoke of their world with a longing that didn't quite fit the grim reality surrounding them. Their words were like embers, struggling to stay alight against the cold winds of despair.
Lira continued, her voice quieter now, as if speaking the words made them harder to believe.
"Back home, there were stories—legends, really—about people who reached the higher Reaches. They said those places are like dreams made real. Fields of Etherion crystals as far as the eye can see. Cities built into the clouds, with rivers of light flowing through them. A world where even the air makes you stronger."
Roran barked a short, humorless laugh. "And yet, here we are, stuck in this frozen pit of misery. What's the point of paradise if it's locked behind walls no one can climb?"
Lira's eyes flicked to him, a hint of reproach in her gaze. "There's always a point, Roran. If there wasn't, why would anyone keep trying? Why would we?"
He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.
"Because hope's a hell of a drug. And because there's nothing left for us back there. Even if the Nexus is hell, it's better than starving in that town, watching everything crumble around us."
Kael's gaze remained fixed on the flames, but his mind was far away. What drove him through the Nexus was not dreams of paradise, it was a lust for blood...a burning desire to shed the crimson essence of as many gods and celestials it took to appease his vengeance.
However it seemed for most here, what drove them was hope.
Kael had seen enough to understand that hope was a fragile thing, especially in a place like this. And fragile things… they didn't last long.
But even as he dismissed their words, a small part of him knew, remembering flashes from his past life—of those same higher Reaches, of the kingdoms and powers that ruled them.
He shifted slightly, his voice low and deliberate as he spoke for the first time. "The higher Reaches aren't what you think."
Both Roran and Lira turned to him, surprised. Roran frowned. "What do you mean?"
Kael leaned back, his gaze steady but distant.
"They aren't heaven. They're just a whole other battleground. A place where power rules absolutely, and mercy is a rare luxury. You won't find freedom there—just a different kind of chain."
Lira frowned, her hope flickering. "How would you know?"
Kael's lips twitched, almost into a what might have been a smirk, but it faded just as quickly.
"I've heared whispers."
—
A while later.
As the conversation died down Kael finally spoke. "When were you going to do it?" he asked, his voice calm and casual.
Roran looked confused. "Do what?"
"Kill me," Kael said and looked between the two of them. "While I was sleeping? Or are you still trying to decide if I'm worth the risk?"
The air around the fire grew thick, the crackle of the flames the only sound. Roran and Lira looked at each other, their faces hardening.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Lira said, her voice sharp. "We're not that type of people."
Kael's hand raised, as if to wave them off.
"Save it. You've been too obvious."
Lira's hand tightened but she didn't speak. Roran's jaw clenched, his shoulders tensing as he shifted and his hand drifted towards his side.
Kael leaned back, his body relaxed despite the tension in the air. "Let me guess. You're wondering how I knew." He waved his hand towards the fire.
"For starters no one here trusts anyone that easily. Not in this place. The fact you invited me to sit without hesitation already tells me you've done this before."
Roran opened his mouth to argue but Kael held up a hand again. "Then there's your body language. The way you both have your weapons just out of sight but still within reach. And the way you've been looking at me—not like we're sharing a fire but with a more sinister glance."
He looked at Lira and she winced. "And finally… your story. Too smooth, too pitiful. You wanted me to relax, to see you as victims. But in a place like this innocence doesn't exist."
—
Roran exhaled slowly and his hand wrapped fully around the hatchet he concealed. "Okay," he said and his voice was low. "So you've figured us out. What now?"
Kael shrugged and his face was cold and empty. "I'm going to sleep."
Both of them looked at him in surprise. "What?" Lira asked and her voice was shaking.
"I'm done," Kael said and leaned against a nearby crate. "Whatever happens now is up to you."
He closed his eyes and his voice was soft.
"But before you do whatever it is you're going to do ask yourselves one question: Is whatever you think I have worth dying for?"
The fire crackled and that was the only answer. Kael didn't need to open his eyes to know they were still looking at him, their minds working overtime.
He allowed them think long and hard about it. To understand the next time they reach for those weapons will be the last.