Kael had crossed many roads.
They'd fought through storms and monsters, walked away from fights where blood soaked the ground, and thought they understood what it meant to be ready.
But there are some moments no training can prepare you for.
---
The contract had been simple: Kael's party was hired to escort a merchant caravan to the capital of a mid-tier nation. The mission ended smoothly. For the first time in weeks, Kael was heading home for a short break, a chance to see their parents again.
They didn't know that someone else was heading there too.
---
The town where they'd been born hadn't changed. Narrow cobbled streets. Wooden signs painted in fading colors. The same baker's stall at the corner with loaves cooling on a rack.
Kael felt the tension in their shoulders ease as they walked. For all the Guild's chaos, this place still felt like something solid.
They reached the house and saw smoke curling from the chimney. Their father's tools were stacked neatly by the door. It should have been safe.
---
They stepped inside.
And froze.
---
The living room was torn apart. Furniture broken. Their father was on the floor, blood seeping from a deep cut on his arm, struggling to sit upright.
"Kael—" he gasped.
Kael was already there, kneeling. "Where's Mother?"
Their father's eyes told the story before the words came. "They took her."
---
Everything inside Kael went cold.
"Who?" Their voice was soft. Dangerous.
"Criminals," their father said, clutching his arm. "They came looking for coin, for someone to sell. They saw what she was and thought they could get a price for her blood. I tried—" His voice cracked. "I tried to stop them."
---
Kael was already moving, but their father grabbed their sleeve with shaking fingers.
"They went toward the river," their father whispered. "But—Kael—listen. Don't lose yourself. Please."
Kael looked at him and for a moment, the child inside them wanted to stop and stay.
But the road they'd chosen didn't allow that.
"I'll bring her home," Kael said.
---
The trail wasn't hard to find.
Blood, prints in the mud, the sharp stink of fear.
Kael followed it out of town, past the old bridge and into the trees beyond.
---
They caught up with them at dusk. There were five men. Two were dragging their mother. She was struggling, weak, but she hadn't given up.
Kael didn't speak. They didn't give them the chance to run.
---
The wind struck first, a sharp gale that sent branches snapping like whips. The men staggered, one falling to his knees.
The second strike came from the earth itself.
> "Hold, unbroken ground.
Lift and bind them, safe and sound.
No escape be found."
The soil rose up like living chains, coiling around their legs.
---
One of the men fumbled for a blade. Kael stepped forward, and the look in their eyes stopped him cold.
It wasn't anger. It was something colder.
"Let her go," Kael said.
---
They hesitated. And then, as though some desperate calculation was made in that moment, one of them grabbed a dagger and pressed it to her throat.
"Back off!" he shouted.
Kael froze. Their eyes locked on their mother's.
She shook her head, just once.
---
The man pressed harder. "Back off or she dies!"
"No," Kael said.
---
The wind surged. The ground buckled. The man never finished his threat.
The dagger fell from limp fingers. He dropped, clutching at ears ringing from the sudden pressure, while Kael's mother stumbled free.
---
Kael caught her. For a moment, relief bloomed in their chest. She was alive.
Then they felt it. The warm, wet stain on their hands.
The blade had cut deep before the wind knocked him back.
---
They held her, lowering them both to the ground.
"No, no, stay with me," they whispered. "I've got you. You're safe."
She smiled faintly, pain in every breath. "You came…"
"Of course I did."
"Good…" Her voice broke on the word.
Her hand found their cheek, trembling. "Kael… don't become like them."
---
And then her eyes closed, and the hand that had held their face slipped away.
The world narrowed into silence.
---
The men scrambled to run, but the ground itself betrayed them, walls of stone slamming shut around them. Kael didn't look at them. Not yet.
They stayed there on their knees, holding her, until the sun disappeared behind the trees and the first stars began to show.
---
By the time they stood, their mother's body laid gently on the earth, the air around them had changed. Something hard had settled into their spine.
---
They looked at the five men. "You're not walking away from this."
---
The ground swallowed them, leaving them trapped waist-deep. Then, with slow precision, Kael bound them tighter.
"I'm not killing you," they said. "Not yet."
---
They would live long enough for Kael to take them back to the Guild. Long enough for them to stand trial.
But not long enough to forget that this night was the reason they would never see freedom again.
---
That night, the child who left home became someone else.
And for the first time, the path ahead of them was no longer just a journey.
It was a hunt.
---
The walk back from the river felt longer than any road Kael had ever traveled.
Their arms carried a weight that seemed to pull the entire sky down. Every step was slow and deliberate, as if rushing would undo what had already been done.
The five captured criminals trailed behind them, half-dragged by the stone bindings Kael had shaped around their legs. They whimpered now, stripped of any defiance. Kael didn't look at them.
---
As Kael came into view of the first houses, the street ahead wasn't empty.
Ryn was there.
He had been pacing at the end of the lane, restless, asking the neighbors every few minutes if there was news. When he saw Kael, his face changed—relief at first, then confusion, and then his eyes fell on what Kael was carrying.
---
He ran forward, slowing only when he saw the look on their face.
"Kael…" His voice was soft. "Please tell me—"
But there was no need for Kael to answer. The truth was written in every line of their posture.
---
Ryn reached out instinctively, his hand hovering like he wanted to help but unsure if touching would make it worse. "Let me—at least let me take some of the weight?"
Kael shook their head once, the smallest movement, and kept walking.
Ryn fell into step beside them without another word.
---
The town grew silent as the two of them passed. People came to their doors and windows, watching. They saw the bound men stumbling behind Kael. They saw the form in Kael's arms.
And they understood.
---
At the door, Kael's father appeared, face pale. His gaze went to Ryn first—maybe hoping the boy was here for another reason—but then it fell on what Kael held.
He staggered forward, hands trembling. "No…"
Kael knelt carefully, laying their mother down on the threshold as if she were made of glass. "She's gone."
---
The words sounded flat in their mouth. Empty.
Their father dropped to his knees and pulled her into his arms, voice cracking with a sound that didn't seem human.
Ryn stood there, frozen, tears gathering in his eyes. He stepped closer, then turned toward Kael, who had gone completely still.
---
He reached for them, gripping their arm—not forcefully, but like an anchor. "Kael," he whispered, "you're here. I'm here. Breathe."
For a long moment, Kael didn't move. Then they let out one slow, ragged breath.
---
"I'll take the prisoners to the Guild," Ryn said softly. "You stay."
Kael's voice, when it came, was low. "No. I'll do it."
---
Ryn hesitated, then nodded. "Then I'll walk with you."
---
The neighbors gathered, quietly taking the bindings from Kael's hands and forming a grim line behind. Kael rose again, their gaze fixed ahead.
Ryn walked beside them, not saying anything more. His presence was enough.
---
When the Guild annex finally loomed ahead, Kael shoved the prisoners forward. "They'll stand trial," they said simply.
The officials nodded quickly, seeing the storm in Kael's face, and led the criminals away.
Ryn stayed by the door, waiting. He knew Kael wasn't done yet.
---
On the way back, Kael said nothing. Their silence was heavy, a silence Ryn had never heard from them before—not tired, not contemplative, just… hollow.
---
Inside the house, Kael walked through the wreckage without looking at it, heading straight to their small room. Ryn followed, unsure if they wanted him there but unwilling to leave them alone.
Kael sat on the floor by their bed, staring at nothing.
---
For a while, neither of them spoke. The quiet between them was broken only by the distant murmur of voices outside, the town trying to patch itself back together.
Finally, Ryn said, "You did everything you could."
Kael's answer came without looking at him. "Not enough."
---
Ryn crouched so they were eye level. "Kael. Look at me."
Slowly, their eyes met.
"You are not responsible for what those men chose to do," Ryn said, steady. "You brought her home. And you made sure they won't hurt anyone else."
---
Kael swallowed, throat tight. "She told me not to become like them."
"Then don't," Ryn said. "That's the last thing she asked of you. Hold on to that."
---
The rest of that day passed in fragments. Neighbors came, bringing food no one touched. The Guild officials returned to collect statements. Through it all, Ryn stayed.
When the house finally emptied and night settled, Ryn was still there, sitting on the floor against the wall while Kael sat by the window, staring out at the dark.
---
"I'm not staying," Kael said suddenly.
Ryn looked over. "I know."
"They weren't alone," Kael said. "I'm going to find the rest."
---
Ryn's jaw tightened. "Then promise me something."
Kael waited.
"When you go after them," Ryn said, "don't forget there's someone here waiting for you. Don't lose yourself so much you can't come back."
---
Kael's gaze softened for just a moment. "I'll come back. When it's finished."
Ryn nodded, and for a while, they just sat there. The quiet wasn't as heavy now.
---
By morning, Kael was packed and ready to leave. Their father didn't try to stop them. Ryn stood with him as they watched Kael walk away from the house and down the long road out of town.
And neither of them said goodbye.
Because this wasn't an ending. It was the start of something Kael had to see through.