“That… was when the rift began.”
Sahrak’s voice settled on old bones that didn’t echo in the ever huge chamber. He didn’t look at Kaelen when he said it. He just turned his back and faced the stone wall carved with flame-wreathed warriors and spirals of broken shields.
“It started with words. Like it always does. Whispers in corners. Heated debates around cracked hearthstones. The kind of disagreements families usually drink over.”
He sighed. “But not here.”
Kaelen listened, leaning against the cold clay wall behind him, still tender from his wounds, as he pressed every breath against bruises he hadn’t even counted yet.
“The people split,” Sahrak said. “But not with blades. Not yet. Just… distance.
Your father’s side believed in preserving strength and not flaunting it. They called i
