Kael stood at the edge of the broken cliffs, the wind whipping against his cloak, his sword heavy in his grip. From this vantage point, he could see everything.
The battlefield stretched below him—a ruin of shattered ground and lingering Riftlight. The noble armies were still scattered and disorganized. Some had fled entirely. Others stood in dazed, uneasy silence, watching the Riftborn with the same terror Kael felt twisting in his gut.
And at the center of it all—
Aelthar.
Standing before the kneeling Riftborn.
Not commanding them.
Not controlling them.
But being recognized by them.
Kael's breath was slow. Measured.
Because this—this was the moment he had been dreading.
For weeks, he had tried to convince himself that Aelthar was still Aric. That he was still the same man he had fought beside, had bled for, had trusted when the rest of the world turned against them.
But looking at him now—Kael finally saw it.
Aelthar was no longer his friend.
He was something else.
Something Kael could no longer pretend to understand.
His fingers curled around the hilt of his sword.
Because soon—he would have to decide.
Would he stay?
Or would he be the one to end this before it was too late?
----
The ascent felt longer than it should have.
Kael climbed the ruined stone steps of Velmiris's tallest tower, his breath steady, his heart pounding.
He was not afraid.
Not of Aelthar.
But of what he might hear.
When he reached the top, the air was different.
Not cold. Not warm. Just wrong.
Aelthar stood at the edge of the open balcony, gazing over his reclaimed city, his hands clasped behind his back. He did not turn as Kael approached.
"You saw them kneel," Aelthar said, voice calm.
Kael exhaled. "I saw them recognize you."
Finally, Aelthar turned.
And when he did—Kael nearly took a step back.
His eyes.
They were still Aelthar's eyes. Still human.
But there was something else beneath them now.
A flicker of something deep, something vast—something not entirely his.
Kael didn't speak.
Because, for the first time, he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.
But he asked anyway.
"What are you?"
Aelthar did not hesitate.
"What I have always been."
Kael hated that answer.
Because it meant the Rift had always been waiting.
It meant this had never been a war of men.
It meant Kael had been fighting alongside something that should never have existed.
And it meant he had never noticed.
His grip on his sword tightened.
He wanted to fight.
He wanted to argue.
But most of all—he wanted Aelthar to lie to him.
To tell him this was still about their people. About Eldermere. About anything but what they both knew was true.
But Aelthar did not lie.
And that—that was worse.
----
Kael took a slow step forward.
Aelthar didn't move.
"You remember them," Kael said. Not a question. A fact.
Aelthar nodded. "Yes."
The air was too still.
The wind had died.
Kael's pulse hammered in his ears.
"So tell me," he said, his voice barely steady, "when did you stop pretending to be Aric?"
Aelthar tilted his head.
"That name was never mine to keep."
Kael exhaled through his nose.
"You used to be a better liar."
Aelthar smiled.
Not with amusement. Not with cruelty.
With understanding.
And that—that was the worst part.
Because it meant Aelthar knew exactly what this conversation was.
It wasn't an argument.
It wasn't even a betrayal.
It was a reckoning.
Kael felt his grip on his sword shake.
"Do you even care?" he muttered. "That we followed you because we believed in you? That Lira—"
"Lira made her choice," Aelthar said simply. "And so will you."
Kael laughed.
A sharp, bitter sound.
"You really think it's that easy?"
Aelthar stepped forward.
And for the first time—Kael felt something shift.
The Rift was watching.
And it was waiting for him.
Aelthar looked him in the eyes.
And then—he said something that broke him.
"You were never free from this, Kael."
Kael's breath hitched.
Aelthar held his gaze.
"The Rift already knows your name."
Kael's entire body went cold.
Because that—that was not possible.
He had never touched the Rift.
Never accepted its call.
Never followed its whispers.
But Aelthar had just spoken like it was already too late.
And Kael felt it.
Not loudly.
Not in words.
But in a whisper just beyond hearing.
A name.
His name.
And the moment he heard it—
Kael knew.
He had never been free from it.
Not since the beginning.
Not since he had chosen to follow Aric.
Because Aelthar had never been the only one the Rift had been watching.
Kael had just never noticed.
Until now.
----
The Rift pulsed.
Kael felt it, even though it wasn't touching him.
But something was.
His breath came too sharp, too fast. His fingers trembled against the hilt of his sword. Not from exhaustion. Not from fear.
From something else.
Something deeper.
Aelthar watched him without moving, his expression unreadable.
"You feel it," Aelthar murmured. Not a question. A fact.
Kael's mouth was dry. "You did something to me."
Aelthar didn't answer.
Because he didn't have to.
Kael's vision blurred.
It happened in an instant—one moment, he was standing in the tower of Velmiris.
The next—
He wasn't.
The city was different.
The stone was polished. Whole. The banners above the towers were not noble sigils. They were something older.
Something he recognized.
But had never seen before.
Kael's pulse pounded in his ears.
Because this wasn't a dream.
It wasn't an illusion.
It was a memory.
And it was his.
----
Kael's breath shuddered as the vision faded.
He was back in Velmiris.
Back in the tower.
But his hands were shaking.
Aelthar hadn't moved.
Because he had been waiting.
Kael forced himself to step back.
"No."
Aelthar exhaled slowly. "You already know the answer, Kael."
Kael's hands curled into fists. "I don't want it."
Aelthar tilted his head. "Then leave."
Kael froze.
Aelthar didn't stop him.
He didn't command him to stay. Didn't try to force the Rift on him.
He simply gave him the choice.
Stay and accept it.
Or walk away.
But Kael wasn't stupid.
Aelthar never gave choices that didn't already have answers.
And the Rift—
The Rift had already decided for him.
Kael's throat tightened.
Because he didn't know which part of him still belonged to himself.
And which part had never been his at all.
----
Kael didn't run.
He should have.
He should have turned and left. Should have drawn his blade. Should have done anything but stand there, shaking.
But then—
It whispered.
Not Aelthar.
Not the Riftborn.
The Rift itself.
"Kael."
It was so soft.
So quiet.
But he felt it beneath his skin.
And he knew.
He had never been free from this.
Not since the moment he had chosen to follow Aric.
Not since before that.
Because this was never a beginning.
It was a return.
The Rift pulsed again.
And Kael heard it.
Not just his name.
But a command.
A truth he had been running from all along.
And now—
He could not run anymore.