Heat still rolled through the ruined depths.
Molten stone crawled slowly across the shattered floor, casting a dull red glow against the broken ridges of what had once been the corridor. Steam rose in uneven columns, twisting toward a ceiling that no longer fully existed. The air tasted of scorched mineral and spent force.
Indura stood amid it with his hands still clasped behind his back, golden eyes moving across the destruction.
"Strange," he said. "With a blast like that, the ground above should have collapsed."
Shadow stepped up beside him, silver eyes narrowed against the haze. His gaze was not fixed on the molten rock or the missing walls, but on the faint light lingering in the air itself.
Lines of pale green luminescence hung suspended above the wreckage — thin, intricate, and still intact despite the devastation. More of them traced across the remaining surfaces of stone, etched into the rock in patterns too precise to be natural. They pulsed softly, like something breathing at a very slow pace.
"There," Shadow said. "Reinforcement seals."
Indura followed his line of sight.
"Seals?"
Shadow nodded once.
"They are woven through the structure of this place. Not as decoration. As support. The seals are binding the stone above and around us, holding the weight of the forest and the mountain layers even when the foundation beneath them is destroyed. Without them, everything overhead would have come down the moment the corridor was erased."
Indura studied the floating runes with quiet interest. The light reflected faintly in his eyes.
"So the land itself was prepared for something like this," he said. "Impressive. Whoever set these did not intend for their domain to fall easily."
He started to say more.
A voice cut across the ruined space.
It came from the far side of the destruction — beyond the rivers of molten rock and the drifting steam — yet it carried clearly through the heat-distorted air. A man's voice. Steady. Controlled. And marked by something that almost resembled recognition.
"Is it really you?"
Both of them turned toward the sound.
The glowing runes continued to pulse in the silence that followed.
Indura's eyes narrowed.
Through the drifting steam and heat haze, a figure took shape. It advanced at a steady pace, using a long staff — taller than its bearer — to mark each step. The molten ground should have swallowed any ordinary tread. Instead, pale constructs of hardened energy formed beneath each footfall, held for a single step, then dissolved the moment weight left them.
The figure emerged fully from the steam.
He had the bearing of a high elf, though age had carved itself deeply into him. A long gray beard fell over his chest. His hair, once a deep green, now carried heavy streaks of ash-gray and hung past his shoulders. His left arm was thin and darkened, the flesh scorched not by fire but by something colder and more precise. Dark, vein-like lines climbed from that arm across his shoulder and up the side of his neck, ending at his left eye. That eye shone purple. The right remained a clear, sharp green.
He stopped before Indura and looked at him with open astonishment — but no fear.
"I cannot believe it," the elf said. His voice was roughened by age, yet steady. "It has been so long."
He inclined his head slightly.
"Welcome back to Chaos."
Indura raised an eyebrow. He did not know this elf. Yet the lack of surprise, the ease with which the name of this world left the old man's mouth, told him enough. This one knew the True Self.
Rhelga's gaze drifted across the molten ruin.
"Are you proud of the reinforcement?" A dry chuckle followed. "I strengthened the ground myself after what you did to it years ago. It seems the work held... Although the flames still melted off some parts."
Shadow watched him in silence.
This is... the King of the Elves!... I thought he was dead!
The Elf's attention shifted, settling briefly on the dark figure at Indura's side.
"And you brought a new friend."
The heat between them filled the pause that followed.
Indura spoke first.
"Who are you?"
The Elf's expression changed. Surprise flickered across his features. He tilted his head, as if the question itself did not make sense.
"I do not understand... This is no time for your jokes, Dragon King."
Indura glanced once at Shadow, then back to the old elf.
The Elf stepped closer. The purple and green eyes searched Indura's face with sudden intensity — first the eyes, then the line of the jaw, the stillness of his presence. After a long moment he drew back, nodding slowly to himself.
"Rhelga," he said. "My name is Rhelga."
Silence settled hard around the name.
Then the staff slipped from his fingers and struck the cracked stone with a sharp report. Shock broke openly across his face.
"Oh no… Did it fail?"
Indura exhaled through his nose.
"Rhe… lga." He tested the name once, imperfectly, then continued. "Listen, old elf. The fact that you recognize me and show no surprise requires explanation."
Rhelga did not answer at once. He looked again at Indura's face, at his hands, at the quiet weight in his golden eyes. Something in his expression settled into grim understanding.
"No," he murmured. "It worked."
Indura frowned slightly.
"What worked?"
Rhelga's mouth curved into a thin smile.
"To think that you were actually reborn, but…" He paused, studying Indura as if confirming a final detail. "You are the Dragon King. Yet you are different."
A sudden sound cracked through the air behind them — a sharp pop, followed by the brief hiss of displaced pressure. Rhelga did not turn. He only exhaled, the look on his face that of a man who had already expected the noise.
"This is bad," he said quietly. Then, more clearly: "You are a different soul. You are Indura… and yet not the same. Are you not?"
Indura's eyes narrowed.
That was answer enough.
Rhelga let out a short, rough laugh.
"In all the years of my work, I did not expect the Dragon King's rebirth to settle like this." He leaned in slightly, green-and-purple gaze sharp with interest. "You are so young. You still carry the old presence… but compared to him, you are—"
He cleared his throat and straightened.
Indura glanced toward Shadow, confusion flickering briefly across his face, then returned his attention to Rhelga.
"You do not need to explain further," Rhelga said. "I understand the shape of this situation."
He retrieved his staff, planted it against the stone, and looked directly into Indura's eyes.
"He is in there, isn't he?"
Indura's eyes widened a fraction.
Then, slowly, a smile formed.
"You," he said, "are an interesting old one."
"Just... follow me inside. I cannot stand this heat."
---------------
The chamber opened around them like a buried world.
Green veins of living light ran through the vast stone walls and ceiling, pulsing in slow, steady rhythms. Their glow washed over everything beneath — wide stretches of moss-covered ground, clusters of luminous flowers that opened toward the light, and clouds of pale fireflies drifting in lazy currents through the air. The space was enormous, its far edges lost in soft emerald haze. Water traced thin channels between the roots that broke through the floor, and the air carried the clean scent of deep earth and growing things.
Indura stood near one of the larger veins. He lifted a hand and brushed his fingers along its surface. Mana moved beneath the light, thick and continuous, like a river sealed inside crystal. Shadow remained farther back, silver eyes moving across the chamber's height and breadth, taking in every detail without comment.
Not too bad, not too bad.
Rhelga planted his staff against the soft ground.
"Get comfortable," he said. "This place has not changed."
Indura withdrew his hand from the vein.
"Did you send those trees after us?"
Rhelga shook his head.
"I did not send them. They are part of this domain's defenses. They act on their own when the seals are disturbed." He inclined his head slightly. "You have my apology. I was not guiding them."
Indura's mouth curved.
"How long has it been?" Rhelga asked.
Indura glanced at him.
"How long? As in… since I returned?"
"No. How long have you been awake? How long since you first opened your eyes?"
Indura's expression shifted — not to alarm, but to a quieter calculation.
"Around six hundred years."
Rhelga pulled slowly at his beard, gaze lowering.
"Six hundred years… How strange." He looked up again. "You should have woken far earlier. Still. This is not the worst outcome."
Shadow continued along the wall, fingers trailing lightly across one of the glowing veins. At a distance, he glanced toward Rhelga, then away again.
This will be Interesting.
Indura spoke.
"Do you know how I came to be?"
Rhelga nodded once.
"I think I do."
A thin smile touched his mouth as he stepped closer, still studying Indura with open interest.
"It is amazing. Despite how young you look, you carry that old, tremendous power… though it is weaker than it once was."
He began to walk a slow circle around Indura.
"Where have you been these past six hundred years?"
Indura's eyes followed him.
"In Varta."
Rhelga tugged at his beard again.
"Varta… the lower realm. But why there?"
He continued his circuit, steps unhurried.
"And your cores? Do you have them all?"
"I do."
Rhelga's finger touched the center of Indura's back. The contact was brief, precise. The old elf's mismatched eyes narrowed as if looking through flesh and into something deeper.
"You have them," he said. "But only one is pulsing."
Indura exhaled.
"Old man."
Rhelga kept walking.
"Very strange. Very odd."
"Hey. Old man."
Rhelga paused only long enough to lift a strand of Indura's crimson hair, examining it between two fingers before letting it fall. He resumed his slow circle as if nothing had been said.
Indura turned fully.
His gaze dropped to meet Rhelga's, cold and sharp with contained irritation.
"Stop doing that."
Rhelga brought a finger to his lips, still studying him. Then he smiled.
"Hmm. You are most definitely like him. That old temper… the same Indura I know."
Indura frowned slightly.
"What?"
Rhelga chuckled, the sound rough but genuine.
"It is like looking at a child. Bright. There is so much light in your eyes." He laughed under his breath. "Back then, the Dragon King looked terrifying. Even I was careful around him at times. But this…" His green-and-purple gaze lingered on Indura's face. "This is also not so bad, odd, but not bad."
The fireflies drifted on through the green light.
Indura studied Rhelga for a long moment.
"Who are you, really?" he asked. "Everyone who has recognized me has fallen to their knees. Yet you stand here speaking as if none of that weight reaches you."
Rhelga nodded, fingers idly pulling at his beard.
"True. I am well aware of the influence you carry."
He stepped closer to one of the glowing veins, the green light washing across his cheek. Then he turned fully toward Indura.
"Do you know why I am not shaking? Why I am not on my knees despite your presence?"
Indura's eyes sharpened.
Rhelga planted his staff firmly against the ground and straightened. The air in the chamber shifted. The soft drift of the fireflies slowed. Even the pulse of the green veins seemed to hold for a fraction longer than before, as if the domain itself had drawn in a breath and refused to release it. His mismatched eyes locked onto Indura's, steady and unflinching.
When he spoke, his voice was firm, clear, and completely serious.
"It is because… I am your father."
Silence.
Absolute, ringing silence.
A dull thud sounded from the side of the chamber. Shadow had taken an involuntary step back; whatever composure he usually wore had cracked clean through, silver eyes wide with pure, undisguised shock.
What did I hear?!
Indura's own eyes were open just as wide.
"W-What?"
Rhelga held the solemn expression for another heartbeat, carefully watching the look on Indura's face.
Then he broke.
Laughter tore out of him in a rough, uncontrolled burst, echoing off the high walls of the domain. He bent forward slightly, one hand braced against his staff, the other pressed to his chest as the sound kept coming.
Indura blinked.
This... Old Elf.
He turned his head toward Shadow.
Shadow immediately looked away, suddenly very interested in the nearest glowing vein.
Rhelga's laughter finally began to ebb into uneven coughs. He wiped at the corner of one eye and drew a deep, steadying breath.
"You should have seen your face," he managed, still grinning. "Back then, the old you would have scorched half my domain if a joke failed to amuse him."
He turned and started walking toward a low shelf set against the far wall, staff tapping lightly against the soft ground.
"Do not worry," he added over his shoulder, tone almost casual now. "I am not your father."
A brief pause.
"You already killed him, in case you did not know."
The fireflies drifted on through the green light.
Indura remained where he stood, expression caught somewhere between residual disbelief and the slow return of his usual composure.
His gaze had fallen to the floor. The words settled slowly, heavily.
"I… killed my father?" he whispered.
Rhelga walked to the shelf, selected a book, then glanced back over his shoulder.
"Wait. Has he not told you yet?"
Indura looked up.
"He?"
"Yes. Your True Self. Has he not already spoken to you of his life?"
Indura let out a short, dry breath.
"He refuses. Finding out this way is the only way left."
Rhelga chuckled as he turned a page.
"I expected as much. The Dragon King was never fond of long explanations. He preferred action. Especially when the subject touched anything resembling a story."
Indura gave a slight nod. That much, at least, he had already learned.
Rhelga flipped another page, eyes moving across the old script.
"We worked together in those days. His methods were often questionable, but his motives were rarely without reason."
"So you were an old friend."
Rhelga closed the book and returned it to the shelf, then drew out another.
"We were. We still are. We grew up alongside one another. I watched his rise. I watched him take this realm, and the next."
Indura's expression eased into a faint smile as he moved toward one of the luminous flowers growing along the veins. The soft green light touched the side of his face.
Rhelga watched him for a moment, something quieter entering his mismatched eyes.
"Will he not show himself?"
Indura blinked.
"He has said nothing. But I can feel his discomfort."
A short laugh left Rhelga.
"That, I understand."
He closed the second book, pulled a chair from beside the shelf, and sat. The wood creaked beneath his weight. When he spoke again, the lightness had left his voice.
"I am really glad to see you again."
Indura turned fully toward him. The change in the old elf's bearing was clear.
"The world is not what it was," Rhelga continued. "The war… is not over. Your name has already faded from most tongues. Only a few still carry clear memory of the time when you ruled."
Shadow stepped closer, silent, listening.
Indura's expression hardened into something sharper, more focused.
"I already know," he said. "There is a force hidden in this world. One that has altered history itself."
Rhelga nodded once.
"Yes."
He held Indura's gaze.
"Long ago, before Dark Haven's descent, the Dragon King came to me. He told me of the fate he saw waiting for him. Then he asked for my help. I traveled to the upper realm in search of an artifact — one said to be capable of transcending the body beyond known limits. Not only the flesh. The soul as well."
His fingers tightened briefly around the arm of the chair.
"I found it. I brought it back to him. We believed the artifact would fulfill its purpose. We did not expect what followed."
His eyes lowered to the floor.
"It was called the Seed of Rebirth."
Shadow's gaze sharpened at the name.
Indura repeated it quietly.
"Seed of Rebirth?"
Rhelga inclined his head.
"It was meant to reshape the Dragon King's body so that it could properly bear the Authorities he had claimed — fusing them into a single vessel strong enough to wield them as one. That was the intention."
A thin, weary smile crossed his face.
"It failed. And from that failure… I think that is how you were created."
He looked at Indura directly.
"You have wondered about your beginning, have you not? About how you came to exist?"
Indura did not deny it. His throat moved as he swallowed.
Rhelga's voice dropped further.
"I will tell you. Because I was there when everything went wrong."
His eyes lifted toward the ceiling, following the slow drift of the fireflies through the green light.
"It began the day of Dragon King's battle against the Light of Dawn and the Sky Army…"
A pause filled the chamber.
"…That was when they arrived."
"Dark Haven."