The underground battlefield faded behind them, swallowed by the dark as Aldric followed Isolde through the winding stone corridors. The air here was thick with something unnatural—old magic, buried secrets, the weight of too many souls lost to time.
Aldric kept his steps measured, his gaze fixed ahead. His body moved with an ease that unsettled him, like he was lighter than he should be, like the world around him no longer carried the same weight. His heartbeat was absent, but the cold fire within him—the power of the Oath—was undeniable.
The corridor opened into a vast chamber, where a massive gate of blackened iron stood sealed with chains thick as a man's arm. Isolde raised a hand, murmuring words in a tongue that did not belong to this world. The chains groaned, twisting like living things, then unraveled.
Beyond the gate, moonlight spilled across jagged cliffs. A cold wind rushed in, carrying the scent of pine and distant storms. Aldric stepped forward, his boots crunching against the frost-laced earth.
They stood at the mouth of a forgotten valley, surrounded by towering peaks that reached toward the heavens like the broken ribs of some long-dead god. Below, a narrow road wound through a dense forest, its path barely visible beneath the creeping mist.
Aldric scanned the horizon. "Where are we?"
"The Ruined Pass," Isolde said. "A place lost to time, much like you."
Aldric let his fingers brush the hilt of his sword. "And where are we going?"
She pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders. "West. To the Free Cities."
Aldric turned to face her fully. "You mean to raise an army."
"Yes."
"And you expect me to fight for it."
Isolde met his gaze, unflinching. "I expect you to lead it."
Aldric scoffed, shaking his head. "I was a knight, not a general."
"You were more than that," she said. "You were the King's Blade. You commanded legions, won wars with your sword alone."
"And look where that got me."
Isolde stepped closer, her voice lowering. "You have been given a second chance, Aldric. A rare thing, in a world that swallows men whole. You can let your anger consume you, let the Oath hollow you out until nothing remains but a weapon to be wielded…" She tilted her head slightly. "Or you can take control of your fate."
Aldric exhaled slowly, turning his gaze back to the road. The world he had once known was gone. He had no home, no banner to fight for.
But vengeance? That remained.
He adjusted the sword at his hip. "Then we ride west."
Isolde smiled faintly, a glimmer of something unreadable in her eyes.
"The road is long," she murmured. "And war is waiting."
Aldric stepped forward, leaving the ruins behind.
Let it come.