What Remains.
***
They left the village before dawn.
No one tried to stop Kael. A few people watched from doorways as he passed. Some nodded. Others wouldn't meet his eyes. He preferred the second group.
The witch walked ahead of him along the narrow road. She didn't look back.
Kael's body ached in a way that sleep hadn't touched. Every joint felt tight, every breath heavier than the last. The heat was quieter now, but it hadn't gone away. It sat deep in his chest, like a coal buried under ash.
"You pushed too hard," the witch said without turning.
"I didn't have a choice."
"You always have a choice," she replied. "You just don't always like it."
Kael said nothing.
They reached a low ridge overlooking the valley. Smoke still rose from the village behind them. Kael stopped and looked back once, then turned away.
"Sit," the witch said.
He did.
She knelt and examined his arms, pulling back his sleeves. The scales were clearer now. Not armor. Not yet. Just beneath the skin, dark and uneven, following the lines of muscle.
"This is early," she said. "Faster than I expected."
"What does that mean?" Kael asked.
"It means your blood is strong," she replied. "Or impatient."
She mixed a salve from crushed leaves and ash, rubbing it into his skin. The burning eased slightly.
"Will this stop it?" Kael asked.
"No," she said. "It will remind your body that it's still human."
Kael let out a slow breath. "How long do I have?"
The witch paused. "Until you stop asking that question."
He frowned. "That's not an answer."
"It's the only honest one," she said.
They walked until midday, then made camp in a narrow ravine where sound didn't carry far. Kael tried to eat but couldn't finish. Food tasted dull, almost lifeless.
That worried him more than the scales.
When night came, he dreamed.
Fire and wings. Cities seen from above. Screams that felt distant, unimportant. He woke with his hands clenched and his heart racing.
The witch was already awake.
"They know now," she said.
"Who?"
"The Order," she replied. "Not just hunters anymore. Commanders."
Kael sat up. "Because of the village?"
"Yes. You didn't hide. You didn't flee cleanly. You stood."
He rubbed his face. "I saved them."
"You announced yourself," she said. "There's a difference."
She tossed a piece of cloth toward him. Inside was a symbol burned into leather—the Severed Flame.
"They left this behind," she said. "On purpose."
Kael stared at it. "A warning?"
"A message," she replied. "They want you to know you're being studied."
His jaw tightened. "Let them study."
The witch shook her head. "They're afraid of you now. That's worse."
Kael stood, feeling the heat shift inside him, responding to his anger. He forced it down, breathing through the pain.
"I won't burn the world," he said. "No matter what they think."
The witch looked at him carefully. "Then you'll need rules."
"What kind?"
"Lines you won't cross," she said. "People you won't harm. Power you won't use."
Kael nodded slowly.
"And if I break them?"
She met his eyes. "Then you won't need the Order to end you."
Silence settled between them.
Somewhere far off, a horn sounded—deep and slow, not searching, but announcing.
The witch packed their things. "We move now."
Kael picked up his sword.
As they left the ravine, he glanced down at his hands again. The scales caught the moonlight faintly.
What scared him wasn't how strong he was becoming.
It was how quickly he was getting used to it.