The wind howled through the crumbling ruins of Blackthorn Keep, carrying the echoes of long-forgotten souls.Kieran stood at the edge of the precipice, his breath ragged and his sword heavy in his grip. The moon was low in the sky as the remnants of his army made their last stand against the relentless tide of the Silent King's soldiers , the battlefield below is surrounded by tall shadows.
Blood dripped from a deep gash on his forehead, blurring his vision, but his mind remained sharp. He could not afford to falter. Not now. Not when everything he had fought for was in jeopardy."Kieran!"A voice called from behind him.Turning, he saw Nyx, her black dress billowing like a dragon's fur. His silver eyes bore the weight of a thousand unspoken words,and in her hands, she held a sealed parchment, the wax bearing the mark of the Silent King.Kieran's lips twitched.
"They've surrounded us," she said in a firm but urgent tone."We have one chance. The tunnels beneath the keep—""No," Kieran interrupted softly. "We have to stand here. The prophecy mentions five who must endure.If we run now, we lose our chance to uncover the truth."
Nyx hesitated, looking up at his face with hers. "The prophecy… does not guarantee our survival, Kieran. You know that."
Kieran's eyes darkened. "It doesn't have to. We just needs to hold them off long enough for Alaris to find the Heartstone. If he fails…" He paused as he looked at the approaching army. A sea of flames flickered in the darkness, their light revealing armor-clad figures moving like waves of death.
Nyx moved closer. "There's another way."
"The one who stands in defiance of fate shall fall, but in his fall, the path shall be revealed."A cold lump formed in his body. "So it's me, then," he whispered. "I'm the sacrifice."
Nyx reached out and squeezed his hand tightly. "Not if we find another way. Kieran, I can't—"
"You can, Nyx," he forced out a smile. "Besides, you're always the smarter one. I'm just a sword."
Before he could protest, the gates of Blackthorn Keep shook from the impact of a charging ram. The sound echoed through the night, a sobering reminder that time was running out.
Kieran turned to the rest of his crew – weakened, wounded, but not broken. "Hold your position," he ordered. "We don't have to win. We just need to have time."
His words were followed by a chorus of determined nods. These men and women have followed him through countless battles, and tonight they will fight to the end.
---
The rain became a thunderstorm, and the sound of wheels on chainsaws filled the air. Kieran was fighting with the fury of a man who had nothing left to lose. His blade danced in the moonlight, slashing wildly through the enemies' muscles.
But as he fought, a strange feeling of déjà vu came over him. The movement of the enemy, the patterns of his blows – it was as if he had seen this battle before, in the nightmares that haunted him since he was a child . A disturbing thought entered his mind: Was he simply playing the role predestined for him by forces beyond his control?
Then he saw him in the midst of silence.
A figure dressed in black, his face hidden under a hood, crossed the battlefield with impossible precision. The King's Shadow.
Kieran's blood ran cold. The assassin flashed his twin dragger with killing intent. Kieran knew that facing him would mean death. But he had no choice.
He charged with a roar, meeting Shadow's blade with his own. The world spun with the clash of their weapons, striking each one in a precise and calculated manner. The figure was fast – faster than any opponent Kieran had faced.
But Kieran fought with experience and determination, not speed. Blow by blow he pushed the assassin back, but deep down he knew he was outmatched.
A sharp pain shot through his side. He stumbled, and at the same time, the figure whispered, "The prophecy is over with you."
Kieran gritted his teeth and used his remaining strength to slam his sword forward. The figure moved away, but did not move completely. The sword cut into his side, drawing blood.
A look of surprise mig flashed across the assassin's face before he disappeared into the shadows.
Kieran sank to one knee, blood dripping from his armor. Nyx appeared beside him, fear written on her face. "We have to go!"
"No," Kieran said. "Take the others. Go."
"I'm not leaving you," she whispered.
Kieran laughed weakly. "You have to, take the map. Find Alaris. The truth lies in Solmara."
Nyx had tears in her eyes, but she nodded. "I'll find him." I swear."
With one last glance, he vanished into the night, leading the survivors through the secret tunnels beneath the fortress.
As the enemy approached, Kieran stood back up, holding his sword tightly. He would not die of fright. He will die as he lived – he will die in defiance.
And somewhere, in the depths of his mind, he heard a whisper.
"The heart remembers what the mind forgets... and the end is only the beginning."A knowing look crossed his lips.
As the flames approached, Kieran raised his sword and attacked.
---
Miles away in the royal chambers of Umbren, the Silent King stares at the flame of his furnace, his silver mask reflecting the glow of the flames .
"It has begun," he murmured.His guard was bowing deeply. "Kieran fought well, sir. But he's only a human being. The real game is still ahead of us."
The Silent King groaned silently. "Indeed. The Heartstone is awakening… and the darkness within it is awakening."
Outside the castle walls, the winds carry messages of things to come, secrets waiting to be revealed, destinies yet to be fulfilled.
And far to the east, in the ancient city of Solmara, Alaris woke up, her heart pounding in her chest.
He could hear it – a distant heartbeat getting louder and louder.