The Duke's Return
The air tore open with a low hum — a ripple of distortion that crackled like thunder without sound. When it settled, two figures stood in the middle of a barren ridge overlooking Dravenhart: Kael Dravenhart, cloak snapping in the cold wind, and Darius, one hand still trembling from the effort of teleportation.
Below them stretched the dark stone city — his city — built upon the spine of the mountains, towers cutting into the mist like spears.
Kael's eyes narrowed. Even from here, he could sense the shift. The stillness wasn't peace; it was restraint, as if Dravenhart itself held its breath.
Kael glancing at Darius.
Darius swayed slightly, sweat clinging to his temple. "You ordered me to. I told you, my body's still—"
Kael's gaze hardened, though not without worry. "Rest later. We're close."
Darius followed his line of sight. "You think milady is here?"
Kael didn't answer immediately. The wind caught his dark hair, carrying the scent of iron and smoke from the city below. His voice came low, certain — almost like a vow.
"She's heading here. I can feel it."
And as they descended toward the gates, the moment Kael's boots touched the cobblestone path, the guards stationed nearby froze. Recognition rippled through them like lightning through dry air.
One dropped to a knee first. Then another. Then all of them.
"My lord… Duke Kael of Dravenhart!"
Kael's jaw tightened, his hand hovering over the hilt of his sword. "Rise," he commanded. "There's no time for ceremony."
But despite his words, something in his chest twisted — the sight of home receiving him not as a traitor, but as a lord. And yet, the city felt… dim. Something had poisoned its heart while he was gone.
Trespassers in the Duke's Land
"Let me get this straight," Finn whispered as the three crouched behind a low stone wall overlooking the main gate. "We're sneaking into Dravenhart. You know, the fortress that's famously impenetrable. The one built on a cliff. The one with fifty guards at the gate and at least five archers on rotation—"
"Finn," Zelene interrupted, her voice low but sharp. "Quiet."
He threw his hands up. "Just making sure we all appreciate the suicidal brilliance of this plan."
Ray exhaled through his nose, glancing toward the distant banners of black and silver. "What if the Duke himself turned against you?"
Zelene's eyes didn't waver. "He would never do that."
Ray frowned. "You sound awfully sure."
Before she could answer, Finn muttered, "You say that like loyalty's immune to politics. People change. Especially when survival's at stake."
Zelene's head snapped toward him, eyes flashing — but not with anger, exactly. More like… pain she refused to show.
"Kael Dravenhart would never betray my family," she said firmly. "Or me."
The conviction in her tone silenced even Finn. For a heartbeat, the only sound was the wind against the stone.
Then Ray broke it. "The gates are sealed tight. We won't make it through the main entrance."
"Then we find another way," Zelene replied.
Ray's lips twitched — a half-smile, half-memory. "There is another way. A narrow passage through the lower wall. The guards rarely patrol there — too steep, too close to the water. Dangerous if you don't know the footing."
Zelene blinked. "And how do you know this?"
Ray glanced at her sidelong, smirking just faintly. "Let's just say… I've had practice sneaking out of places I wasn't supposed to be in."
Finn groaned. "You mean you were thrown out of places."
Ray shrugged. "Details."
Zelene gave him a look that was half scolding, half amused despite herself. "Then lead the way, troublemaker."
Ray dipped his head slightly — mock bow and all. "As you wish, my lady."
Finn sighed dramatically. "Oh yes, because nothing screams 'subtle' like titles in enemy territory."
But even as he grumbled, he followed.
The three of them slipped into the shadows, hugging the wall as the torches above flickered in the growing dark.
From beyond the gate, the faint sound of the city bell echoed — the same bell that marked Kael's return.
And though none of them knew it yet, their paths were only a few breaths apart.