Kael couldn't sleep at night.
He drifted.
In that thin, cruel space between waking and rest, where the body lay exhausted but the mind refused mercy. His breath came shallow, chest rising and falling unevenly as the fire beneath his skin cooled in restless waves.
Every time his eyes closed, the road returned.
The hunters' faces calm, professional.The chains hungry, reaching.The moment the world bent when he raised his hands.
He flinched awake with a sharp inhale, fingers curling into the blanket as if it was a stone.
His eyes stared into darkness, wide and reflective. For a heartbeat, he didn't know where he was.
Then the smells grounded him.
Smoke from a low fire. Dry grass. Leather and oil. Night air tinged with distant rain.
A camp.
Kael turned his head slowly.
Seris sat across the fire, her silhouette sharp against the glow. She was cleaning her pistol with practiced precision, movements steady despite the long day. Firelight danced across her face, softening its angles but not erasing the tension etched there.
She noticed him watching.
"You're not asleep," she said to him quietly.
"I was," Kael replied, his voice rough. "I think."
She snorted faintly. "That's not how sleep works."
Kael pushed himself upright, wincing as stiffness spread through his limbs. he rubbed at his face. He felt older than he had any right to bones heavy, thoughts heavier.
"How long?" he asked.
"An hour," Seris said. "Maybe two."
He nodded, though the information barely registered.
The fire popped, sending sparks spiraling upward into the night. Beyond the small circle of light, the world felt vast and watchful too quiet, as if listening.
Kael swallowed.
"I almost lost control," he said suddenly.
Seris paused, looking up from her weapon.
"Almost," she echoed.
"I felt it," Kael continued, his gaze fixed on the flames. "How easy it would've been to just… let go. To stop caring what happened to them."
His jaw tightened. His youthful face twisted with something raw and ashamed.
"That scares me," he admitted.
Seris studied him for a long moment, her gray eyes unreadable. Then she set the pistol aside and leaned back on her hands.
"Good," she said.
Kael blinked. "Good?"
"If it didn't scare you," she said evenly, "then that would be the problem."
The words settled into him slowly like water.
Kael exhaled, shoulders sagging. "I didn't ask for this."
"No," Seris agreed. "But neither did the people who'll suffer if you don't figure it out."
That stung him like a pin but it rang true.
The dragon stirred faintly, not intruding, merely present.
Power does not corrupt, It reveals.
Kael squeezed his eyes shut.
"I don't want to be revealed," he whispered.
The dragon did not answer.
Later, when sleep finally claimed him, it was not gentle.
The dream began with heat.
Kael stood barefoot on scorched stone beneath a sky split by fire. The air tasted of ash and metal, burning his lungs with every breath. His reflection stared back at him from the blackened ground older, harder, his eyes glowing like an open flame.
Chains stretched across the horizon.
Thousands of them.
Each one bound to a dragon.
Their faces blurred together vast, ancient, furious but their voices were clear.
You let this happen.You will end this.You will replace it.
Kael staggered back, clutching his head. "No...this isn't..."
The ground cracked.
Fire surged upward, swallowing his legs, his chest, his throat. He screamed as heat tore through him not burning flesh, but choice, responsibility, inevitability.
Then he saw it.
A throne of bone and iron.
And himself upon it.
Kael woke up with a cry, bolting upright, sweat soaking his clothes. His chest heaved violently, heart slamming against his ribs as if trying to escape.
"Kael!"
Seris was at his side instantly, gripping his shoulders. Her face was pale, eyes wide with concern.
"You were screaming," she said. "I couldn't wake you"
He shook his head, gasping. "I saw...."
His voice broke.
He dragged a hand down his face, fingers trembling. When he looked up, his eyes were wet, terrified in a way no battlefield could produce.
"I don't want that future," he said hoarsely.
Seris held his gaze firmly. "Then don't walk toward it."
"I don't know how to walk away," Kael whispered.
She was silent for a moment.
Then she said, "That's why we're going to the academy."
The word lingered between them.
Lorri's Arch Academy.
A place of knowledge. Of restraint. Of people who asked why before how.
"People there will try to use you," Seris added. "Some will try to control you. Some will fear you."
Kael laughed weakly. "Sounds familiar."
"But some," she continued, "might teach you how not to lose yourself."
That mattered more than anything.
Dawn came slowly.
The sky lightened from black to gray, the horizon bleeding color as the world woke. Kael stood at the edge of their camp, staring eastward as the sun crested distant hills.
Morning light caught his face, revealing exhaustion etched deep into his features but also something new.
Resolve.
His hair stirred in the breeze. His eyes reflected the rising sun, steady despite the fear that still lingered in him.
You are afraid, the dragon said quietly. That means you still choose.
Kael nodded once.
"I won't be your weapon," he said under his breath. "But I won't be their fuel either."
The dragon's presence warmed, not approval, but understanding.
They broke camp in silence.
As they walked east, heading for Lorri's Arch academy and the future waiting there for Kael, he felt the world shift again not violently, not dramatically.
Like a breath drawn before a storm.
Behind him, hunters watched from afar.
Ahead of him, towers would rise.
And somewhere in the world, chains would continue to strain aware now that someone had finally begun to listen.