⚔️ **CHAPTER 11 — The Weight of What Was Taken**
Night fell over Valenhold like a closing eye.
Kael stood alone at the edge of the western rampart, the academy lights flickering below like distant stars. The sword at his side—*not his, never truly his*—felt heavier than ever. Since the trial in the Hall of Echoes, something had changed. Not in the world.
In him.
Whispers followed him now. Cadets stopped talking when he passed. Instructors watched with unreadable expressions. Kael didn't need to hear the rumors to know them.
*Borrowed strength.*
*False legacy.*
*A mistake dressed as a knight.*
He tightened his grip on the stone railing.
Below the rampart, the city slept peacefully, unaware of the cracks forming beneath its golden banners. Valenhold had always believed in heroes born from prophecy, bloodlines, and divine favor. Kael was none of those things.
And yet… he was still standing.
Footsteps echoed behind him.
"You're hard to find these days," said **Liora**.
Kael didn't turn. "Didn't know anyone was looking."
She joined him at the railing, moonlight catching in her silver hair. Unlike the others, she didn't look at him with doubt. She looked at him with concern—and something closer to fear.
"They're accelerating the Ascension Trials," she said quietly. "Earlier than planned."
Kael's brow furrowed. "That makes no sense. The trials aren't ready."
"They are—for you."
He finally looked at her.
"The High Council believes if your power is exposed under pressure," Liora continued, "they'll learn where it truly comes from. Or who it belongs to."
A cold realization settled in Kael's chest.
"I'm bait," he said.
Liora didn't deny it.
Silence stretched between them, broken only by the wind.
"Do you ever wish," Kael asked softly, "that you'd never met me?"
Her answer came instantly. "No."
That surprised him more than anything else.
Before he could respond, a sharp bell rang across the academy—once, twice, then three times.
An emergency signal.
Liora stiffened. "That bell isn't for drills."
They rushed down from the rampart, boots striking stone as the academy burst into motion. Knights armored in white flooded the courtyards. Magic flared. Commands were shouted.
At the center of the chaos stood **Master Aurelion**, his expression grim.
"The eastern seal has fractured," he announced. "Something old has awakened."
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
Aurelion's gaze locked onto Kael.
"And it's calling to *you*."
The ground trembled—just slightly, but enough.
Kael felt it then.
A pull.
A memory that wasn't his.
A dream reaching back to claim what was stolen.
His vision blurred, and for a moment he saw another boy—someone who looked like him, yet not—standing in a burning field, screaming as light was torn from his chest.
Kael staggered.
Liora caught him. "Kael!"
He steadied himself, breath shaking.
"It knows," he said. "Whoever I took this power from… they're not gone."
Aurelion's voice was low. "No. And if they return—"
The master paused, choosing his words carefully.
"—the world will demand a price."
Kael looked at the sword, then at the academy, at the people who had given him a place he never deserved.
If his dreams were borrowed…
Then the debt was coming due.
And this time, he wouldn't run.
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