The prison beneath the Firespire was carved from stone older than language. Its walls breathed with heat, and the torches sputtered like dying hearts. Sophia stood outside Kaen's cell, staring at the man who once stood beside her in battle.
He didn't look up. Chains bound his wrists, but his posture was relaxed—arrogantly so.
"Why?" she finally asked.
Kaen chuckled, the sound low and humorless. "Because you're exactly what they fear. Power wrapped in compassion. And they will break you for it."
"You could've told me."
"And risk you choosing the wrong side?"
Her fingers curled into fists. "I trusted you."
"That was your first mistake."
Silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken memories.
"You know what the worst part is?" she whispered. "I still want to believe there's goo
