Thirty Years Earlier
Kael was born in the Ironspire Mountains, bastion of the Blades Clan, where the air reeked of molten metal and the only language respected was the clang of steel. His father, Haldor, was a warlord who carved his name into history with a axe. From birth, Kael was taught that strength was purity, and purity was survival.
"The elements are weapons, boy," Haldor growled, tossing him a smoldering blade. "Fire burns, earth shatters. Mix them, and you get mud—weak, useless, doomed to erode."
At ten, Kael killed his first enemy—a mixed-born raider who'd strayed into Blades territory. His father's approving nod was all the validation he needed.
The Storm's Whisper
Twenty Years Earlier
During a raid on an Air Kingdom outpost, Kael found himself cornered by a storm-caller named Lyra, her eyes the color of monsoons. She fought like a tempest, her winds disarming his warriors, but Kael's axe found her throat.
As she fell, she laughed, blood flecking her lips. "You fear what you don't understand… Bladespawn."
He carried her words like a burr in his boot, sharp and unshakable.
The Fault Line
Fifteen Years Earlier
The Blades Clan's defining battle came at Ravenscar Pass, where mixed-born rebels ambushed their ranks. Kael, now a lieutenant, led the countercharge. Amid the chaos, a rebel child—no older than twelve, with fire in one hand and earth in the other—shattered his helmet with a stone.
The scar came later, carved by a traitor within his own ranks: Verek, his blood-brother, who'd secretly fathered a mixed-born son.
"You'd kill a child for existing?" Verek hissed, dagger pressing into Kael's cheek.
"For weakness," Kael spat, twisting the blade back into Verek's heart.
The scar became his creed.
The Exile
Twelve Years Earlier
Lyra's sister, Aelara, found him years later, her belly swollen with his child. "She'll be powerful," Aelara pleaded. "Fire and air—alive, like a storm."
Kael's hand trembled on his axe. Clan law demanded purity. But Aelara's eyes, so like Lyra's, stirred something buried.
He let her flee.
When the clan discovered the child's existence, Kael did what he must: he branded Aelara a traitor and burned her hut. Lira's screams haunted his dreams, but he buried them beneath the clang of steel.
The Loyalty Pact
Kael's rise to Blades Clan leader was cemented when he pledged fealty to Tucan during the Time-Wielder's rebellion.
"You value strength," Tucan said, eyeing Kael's scar. "I value loyalty. Serve me, and your clan will never kneel."
For years, it was enough.
The Cracks
Present Day
Lira's rebellion forced Kael to face the fault lines in his soul. He stood in the armory, polishing a dagger—the twin of the one he'd driven into Verek's heart.
"General."
He turned. Tucan stood in the doorway, silver blood staining his sleeve.
"The girl—Lira," Kael said, the name ash in his mouth. "She's… mine."
Tucan's gaze softened, a crack in eternity. "And?"
Kael's hand tightened on the dagger. "What would you have me do?"
"What you've always done," Tucan said. "Choose strength."
But as Tucan left, Kael stared at his reflection in the blade—and saw the boy he'd killed at Ravenscar, the daughter he'd exiled, the brother he'd betrayed.
Strength, he realized, had always been his cage.