The ruins of Veyrith whispered.
Each broken stone hummed with dormant magic, as if the city itself was holding its breath.
Kael stood before the twin-serpent pedestal, his hand trembling above the obsidian blade.
He remembered this place.
Not as a dream.
As a memory.
Ivy stepped closer. “What did you see?”
Kael’s eyes were distant. “Myself. But not me. A prince. A guardian of the Obsidian Line. I was part of the original seal. One half of it.”
Ember's expression hardened. “That means this city isn’t just a ruin. It’s where the balance began.”
Commander Astrid moved toward the blade and gently nodded at it.
“That sword is the Shadowfang. It was forged to guard the Obsidian bloodline, passed only to a bearer of the true seal.”
Kael hesitated. “Then why can’t I touch it?”
“Because
