The dawn arrived slowly over the black-stone plain. A soft mist crawled along the cracks in the ground, hiding them, smoothing the edges, but not hiding the tension. Kael and Ravik packed their few belongings in silence. Neither spoke much; both knew the world had changed overnight. Vryllos Belyx had left, but its presence lingered like a shadow across the land.
"Do you feel it?" Ravik finally asked, eyes scanning the horizon.
Kael nodded. "Something is coming. Something hidden. And it watches every step we take."
The air felt different. Heavy. Pressed down with expectation. Kael's sword hummed faintly at his side, as if sensing the danger. Even the guardians—phoenix, pride-dragon, and echo-wolf—moved carefully, alert, shifting their weight, eyes narrow and sharp.
Ravik's voice lowered: "The Klyn has begun to stir. I warned you they would not wait for your arrival. They are already shaping events from the shadows."
Kael's hands clenched. "Then we have no time."
THE WHISPERING PATH
The road they took twisted between broken pillars and patches of living forest. The mist thickened with every step. Shadows moved in it, but when Kael looked closely, they vanished.
A low whisper followed them: "He thinks he can walk the sky… but he is grounded."
Kael stopped. "Who's there?" His voice was calm but firm.
No answer came. Only the mist curled around the trees, carrying the sound of something unseen.
Ravik stepped closer. "This is how the Klyn works. They strike through doubt and fear, not with blades or fire."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "Then we will not let doubt touch us."
The path opened onto a clearing. In the center lay a shallow pool of water. Smooth. Clear. Perfect.
Kael approached. The pool reflected not the sky, but himself—Kael, older, worn, surrounded by shadows that moved like hands, like claws. His eyes in the reflection glowed faintly golden.
Ravik spoke softly: "It shows what may come if you fail."
Kael's reflection did not move with him. Instead, it raised one hand, pointing directly at his chest. The air around the pool rippled.
"Do you fear the name you carry?" the reflection asked.
Kael did not flinch. He looked into the reflection's eyes. "No. I carry it because it has to be answered, not feared."
The reflection's hand disappeared. The pool became still again.
THE FIRST STRIKE
Kael barely noticed the wind pick up until it cut across his face like a blade. Then a figure emerged from the mist—a man cloaked in black, with sharp movements, steps silent, shadow blending into shadow.
Ravik whispered, "The Klyn has sent a scout."
Kael drew Oath-Render, the sword glowing faintly silver and gold. "Then let's answer its question."
The man lunged. Fast. Too fast to track with the eye alone. Kael swung, but the attack passed through empty air. Another strike. Kael blocked this one, sparks flying, the sound echoing in the silent forest.
The strike forced Kael back several steps. The Klyn scout circled him, eyes glowing faintly red under the hood. "You think you can face the shadows of the Klyn, boy?"
"I do not face shadows," Kael said, advancing. "I answer them."
With a sudden movement, Kael leapt forward, sword slicing through the mist. His strike met resistance. The scout's blade clanged against Oath-Render, and for the first time Kael felt pressure—an unnatural weight, as if fighting not only the scout, but the mist itself.
Ravik called out: "Kael! It bends reality—its strikes are more than force!"
Kael gritted his teeth. "Then we bend reality back."
ANSWERING SHADOW WITH LIGHT
Kael's mind cleared. He remembered the city, the arena, Vryllos Belyx. Impact alone is nothing. Answer matters.
He raised Oath-Render high. The sword's light flared, silver and gold spilling into the mist. The shadow recoiled, hissing, but did not vanish.
Kael's voice rang loud: "I am Kael Varros. I do not fear the unseen. I answer what watches!"
The sword struck forward again. This time, the light cut through the mist. The scout's form shattered, falling backward, dissolving like smoke into the ground.
The mist thinned. The air grew clear. The forest no longer whispered.
Ravik approached slowly. "You did it. You answered without hesitation."
Kael did not smile. His eyes scanned the horizon. "It was only a scout. The Klyn watches still."
A PROMISE IN THE SKY
High above, the pride-dragon circled once, wings wide, eyes glowing like gold lanterns. The phoenix perched on a nearby tree, flames dimmed but steady. Even the echo-wolf sniffed the air, sensing the same distant threat.
Kael sheathed Oath-Render. "We move at dawn. We find the Klyn before it moves us."
Ravik shook his head. "You cannot force it, Kael. The Klyn chooses when and where."
Kael looked up at the sky. Through the clouds, a faint shimmer formed—the shape of a hand, almost invisible, stretching across the horizon. He clenched his fist.
"Then we will make ourselves ready," he said. "It may choose the moment, but we choose how we stand."
The night passed quietly. No shadows approached, no whispers spoke, but Kael felt the presence of eyes—ancient, patient, and calculating—watching every move he made.
By morning, the mist had cleared. The forest was alive again, birds singing, wind soft. But Kael knew it would not last. Somewhere, the Klyn moved in silence, and the next strike would come without warning.
He tightened his armor straps. He felt the pulse of the guardians around him. He felt the weight of his name.
And he knew that when the Klyn struck, the answer would have to be faster, stronger, and clearer than any sword.
Kael took a deep breath. His journey was no longer about survival. It was about presence.
The world waited for him. And the shadows waited too.
The Klyn watches. Its shadows strike unseen. Kael must answer not with force, but with courage and presence.