After the conflict with Kane ends, I am placed in a cell.
Chains bind my arms.
Before, they would have meant nothing.
Now, they hold.
I sit in silence, feeling it again—the slow drain. The strength I gained in battle fades from me, slipping away like something borrowed and now reclaimed.
It becomes clear.
I draw power from conflict.
From violence. From struggle.
Large battles feed it quickly. The chaos, the blood, the scale—it accelerates everything.
Smaller fights… they still give me something. Just slower.
Even now, weakened, I remain a capable combatant.
But it is less.
Always less without war.
The sounds never leave me.
The screams. The clash of steel. The endless rhythm of battle—it echoes in my mind without pause. Constant. Familiar.
If I focus hard enough, it almost feels real again.
Almost.
Footsteps interrupt the thought.
I don't look up.
The cell door opens.
"I see you're awake."
Kane.
His voice is rougher now, worn down.
He steps inside slowly. I can hear the strain in his movement—his injuries are not light.
Behind him stands the mage.
Ignis.
A deep blue cloak drapes over her frame. Her red hair is tied back in a sharp tail, green eyes fixed on me with quiet caution and open curiosity.
I lower my head slightly, letting my hair fall over my face.
Kane stops a few steps away.
"Aphrodite told me everything," he says.
No anger this time.
Only control.
"She told me how you met. How she brought you here." He exhales. "Out of kindness."
A pause.
"And I attacked you."
No excuses follow.
"She's always been like that," he continues. "Too kind for her own good."
There is something softer beneath the words.
But it fades.
"She wants to leave."
I remain still, but I listen.
"She wants to see the world. Learn. Grow stronger."
He shifts slightly, suppressing discomfort.
"There's a place for that. A school." His gaze flicks briefly toward Ignis, then returns to me. "Dreadspire Academy."
He lets the name settle.
"They teach magic, combat, exploration. People go there to become something more. To build, to discover… or to destroy."
His expression tightens.
"The problem is getting her there."
He gestures faintly outward.
"I can't leave this village. Not with what's out there. There are things in this world that would erase this place without effort."
He nods toward Ignis.
"I hired her to protect Aphrodite on the journey."
Ignis shifts slightly, her expression tightening—not fear, but concern.
Then Kane looks back at me.
"But after fighting you…" a faint grin forms despite the strain, "it seems I found something better."
Silence.
He steps closer.
"I know you're strong," he says. "And I know something else."
His eyes fix on me.
"You got stronger while we fought."
A pause.
"It wasn't subtle."
I say nothing.
"And I know why I'm still alive," he continues.
Another pause.
"Aphrodite."
A small, knowing look.
"You couldn't bring yourself to cut her down to finish it."
Silence lingers.
Then—
"I'll make you an offer."
His tone sharpens, more direct.
"You go with her. Protect her. Get her to Dreadspire Academy."
He gestures toward Ignis.
"You won't be alone. Ignis will go with you."
Ignis' gaze flicks to him, then back to me. The concern in her expression deepens.
Kane continues.
"The academy allows it. Guards, knights… even someone like you."
He doesn't soften the words.
"If you agree…"
He lets it hang.
"I'll give you your freedom."
The chains feel heavier.
The weakness lingers.
But beneath it—
the distant echo of war.
I finally speak.
"Blood… and war…"
My voice is low. Even.
"That is all I leave in my wake."
I lift my head just enough for my eyes to be seen.
"Many will fall by my hand."
A pause.
"I cannot say where the blood will come from… or when it will end."
The air tightens.
Ignis' unease is no longer hidden.
I continue.
"But for now…"
Even to me, the reason is unclear.
"…I will accept."
A brief silence.
"I will accompany her to this academy."
My voice remains steady.
"I will act as her personal guard… alongside Ignis."
The words settle.
Kane watches me for a moment.
Then he grins.
Not out of humor—
but satisfaction.
Ignis does not.
She remains still, her eyes fixed on me, the concern in them deepening into something sharper.
She understands what Kane does not.
This is not control.
This is not safety.
It is something far less certain.
And she is not convinced it can be contained.