Rain hammered the rocks like thrown gravel. Elias ran blindly through the outer yard of Blackwave Keep, boots slipping on slick stone, the serpent tattoo searing his arm with every stride. Torches flared in the wind as guards poured from the barracks, their shouts swallowed by the storm. He darted between rain barrels and stacked crates, driven by a single instinct: escape.
The cliffs. The sea. His mother's last command rang in his ears—"Go!" —and he obeyed without thought.
How come he had been close to his mother all these years without knowing her? How could she hide all these from him?!
He burst through a crumbling archway onto the narrow ledge that ringed the island's edge. Waves crashed far below, white foam exploding against the rocks. There was no pier, no boat—only the endless black water that had always been his prison wall. He knew he would definitely drown.
The keep rose behind him, a silhouette of towers and murder holes lit by lightning.
Elias skidded to a halt, chest burning. For the first time he could force himself, he turned back.
The scullery door hung open, spilling torchlight onto the wet stones. Figures struggled in the doorway—his mother, small and fierce, wielding a carving knife against armored men. Steel flashed. She fought like someone who had once known how, parrying a blow, kicking a guard's knee. He wanted to go back, to help her but he was stuck.
Another blade came from the side. He knew what was happening.
Time slowed.
The sword took her in the neck, clean and brutal. Her head snapped back, gray hair whipping in the rain. She dropped, the thud sound muffled with the rain and waves.
Elias heard himself scream—no words, just raw sound torn from his throat. His heart ached, like a poisoned dagger being twisted anticlockwise. His breath stopped for a few seconds, barely keeping him alive. His shoulders dropped, consumed by this sudden emptiness that felt consuming.
He just knew her for a few seconds and yet it hurts so much.
The killer stepped into the light.
A young man his own age, tall and lean, clad in black enameled plate trimmed with silver. Rain matted his hair, keeping it to his face. His face seems oddly family and cold—cold, perfect, cruel. He wiped blood from his blade with deliberate calm and looked straight across the yard at Elias.
"You are next, boy" he roared in the night.
Kael Varyn. The heir. Elias had glimpsed him from afar a hundred times, scrubbing floors while the young lord strode past with his entourage. He had never seen his face clearly. Never seen those pale gray eyes fixed on him with recognition, not when he had always been told to look down.
Kael smiled. His eyes darkened with anticipated pleasure.
"Found you," he called, voice carrying easily over the storm. "The relic woke, didn't it? Father will be pleased."
More guards fanned out behind him, crossbows raised. Elias backed toward the ledge, nowhere left to run. The serpent tattoo coiled tighter, heat flooding his veins.
"He is the one who ends her, your mother" Zythos hissed. "Mark him."
Kael advanced, unhurried. "All these years we kept you docile, and you choose tonight to grow teeth. Come quietly, slave. Father needs you alive for the binding."
Elias's fists clenched. "You killed my mother."
"She was in the way," Kael said, shrugging. "A kitchen drudge with delusions. Though I'll admit—she fought better than expected, besides, you don't really know her, do you?"
Lightning cracked overhead, illuminating the yard in stark white. Elias saw the body again—his mother's headless body—crumpled in the doorway, blood mixing with rainwater, running red toward the drains he had scrubbed a thousand times.
Something inside him snapped.
He lunged forward, not thinking, just needing to reach Kael, to wrap his hands around that smug throat. Crossbow bolts whistled past. One grazed his shoulder, drawing hot blood. It hurt, stung in fact but Elias was only focused on taking the life out of Kael.
"Really?" Kael Chuckled "Boy, I'd like to see you try but I need to sleep"
Kael laughed and flicked his wrist. A short, black dagger left his hand, spinning end over end.
Elias swiftly dodged it, his arm wrapped around Kaels through as he began to choke him. For a moment Elias saw it, fear. The look in his eyes as he struggled to be free.
Acting fast, Kael reacted with the dagger. It struck Elias just above the nape of his neck, burying itself to the hilt.
Pain exploded, blinding pain. The world tilted. He felt the impact drive him to his knees, then forward onto the wet stone. Warm blood poured warm down his spine. Vision tunneled.
Kael's boots appeared in front of him. A gloved hand gripped Elias's hair, yanking his head back.
"Look at me," Kael commanded. "See what you made me do?"
Elias forced his eyes open. The heir's face filled his sight, rain dripping from sharp cheekbones.
"You were never nothing," Kael said softly, almost kindly. "You were leveraged. And now you're awake too soon. Pity. Father can get another obsession."
He released Elias's hair and stood. "Throw him over," he told the guards. "The sea will finish what the poison started."
Rough hands seized Elias's arms. The ledge rushed up to meet him. He twisted at the last moment, catching a glimpse of his mother's body one final time—small, broken, gone.
Then he was falling.
The wind howled. Rain stung like needles. The rocks below reached up with jagged teeth. As his body landed, he felt all his bones broken at once. The cold swallowed him as the darkness consumed him.
The sea took him.