Caden remained in the clearing long after the mysterious woman had vanished. The wind carried the scent of scorched earth where his power had struck, but the coldness in his chest would not fade.
He knelt beside the broken form of the Hekar. Its jagged limbs were still, the dark magic that had animated it now gone. And yet, as his fingers brushed its cracked surface, he felt a faint hum—like an echo of something vast and unseen.
Why had the Hekar come now? And why here, so close to Grayholt?
His thoughts churned as he rose to his feet.
The woman's words clung to him like frost: The Nexus does not allow such things to exist.
If she was right, then the power inside him was more than just a strange gift—it was a threat to the very order of the world.
A sharp gust of wind swept through the trees, and with it came the distant sound of voices.
Caden stiffened. Patrols rarely ventured this deep into the forest. If they found the Hekar's remains—if they sensed his magic—he had no doubt word would reach the Nexus.
He wiped the blood from his cheek and turned toward the village. Whatever answers he sought would not be found lingering in the woods.
The path home twisted through towering black pines, their gnarled roots curling like serpents beneath his boots.
As he walked, Caden tried to summon the power again, focusing on the memory of that pulse of energy. His hand warmed, but nothing came. Not even a spark.
By the time he reached Grayholt, the sun hung low over the jagged peaks beyond. The village itself was little more than a scattering of stone cottages, their roofs thick with moss.
Smoke curled from chimneys, and the air was thick with the scent of iron and char.
Caden slipped through the narrow streets, keeping his head down. His father would be waiting.
The house was a squat, weathered thing at the village's edge. As he pushed open the door, the warmth of the hearth washed over him. Ladris stood at the workbench, sharpening a curved Drakari blade.
His crimson hair gleamed in the firelight, and his golden eyes flicked toward Caden immediately.
"Late again," Ladris said, his voice like distant thunder.
Caden hesitated in the doorway. He had never known his father to be anything but severe.
A warrior first. A father second.
"I was training," he said carefully.
Ladris set the blade aside.
"You waste your time with that spear. Without the flame, you will never stand among our kind." His eyes narrowed. "Or do you think the Sylphs will claim you instead?"
The words stung, but Caden bit back his anger. You are not meant to be. The woman's warning gnawed at the edge of his thoughts.
"I faced something in the woods today," he said at last. "A Hekar."
Ladris stilled. For a heartbeat, the air itself seemed to grow heavier. "Do not joke about such things," he said.
"I'm not joking." Caden stepped forward, his pulse quickening. "It was real. I killed it."
A flicker of disbelief crossed Ladris's face, but it was gone as quickly as it came. "If what you say is true, the forest is no longer safe. But a Hekar—that should not be possible."
"I didn't use fire," Caden admitted, the words tasting foreign. "It was something else. I don't know how, but I destroyed it."
For once, his father did not answer immediately. Ladris crossed the room, his expression unreadable. "Describe it," he said finally.
Caden hesitated, then recounted everything—the shadow in the trees, the battle, the power that had burst from him like a storm. He left nothing out.
When he finished, Ladris exhaled slowly. "You are certain?"
"Yes."
His father turned toward the hearth, the fire casting deep lines across his face. "Your mother feared this might happen," he murmured, more to himself than to Caden.
Caden's breath caught. His mother. A Sylph who had vanished when he was a child. Ladris never spoke of her.
"She knew?" he pressed. "Knew what?"
For a long moment, his father said nothing. When he finally spoke, his voice was lower.
"There are powers beyond the Nexus's reach—things the system cannot control. Your mother believed those powers were stirring again."
Caden's heart pounded in his ears. "And you didn't tell me?"
Ladris turned, his gaze heavy with a weight Caden could not name.
"Because knowledge will not protect you," he said. "If the Nexus learns what you are, they will come for you. And they will not be merciful."
The words hung between them like an unspoken curse. Caden clenched his fists at his sides, his thoughts a tangled storm. Whatever had awakened in him was no accident—and it was no gift.
It was a danger.
Yet beneath the fear, something else stirred. A flicker of defiance.
For his entire life, he had been nothing more than an outcast, caught between two worlds that would never claim him.
But now?
Now he had a power of his own.
And no matter what the Nexus wanted, he would not let them take it from him.