Kael stood frozen in horror in an open field.

  His hands were drenched in blood.

  A sword pierced Zaros’s chest.

  Zaros stood before Kael, swaying, his face pale with shock. His eyes were wide, not with anger, but with something far worse.

  Betrayal.

  "Why?" Zaros asked in a low, broken voice, as if the word itself hurt him to speak.

  Kael staggered back, his fingers slipping from the hilt.

  "No—no... I—I..." His voice failed him. He could only shake his head as Zaros’s knees gave way.

  Zaros looked at him one last time before collapsing to the ground.

  "I'll never forgive you," he said, his voice sharp enough to cut deeper than any blade.

  Kael lunged forward, reaching out—

  Darkness swallowed him.

  Kael woke with a gasp.

  His hand was still raised, his fingers clawing at empty air. Sweat clung to his skin, and his breath was ragged and uneven. The ceiling above him was familiar.

  Too familiar.

  He covered his eyes with his arm and let out a weak, humorless chuckle.

  "A nightmare... huh."

  When he tried to sit up, pain tore through his back and chest. He hissed sharply and fell back onto the bed.

  Slowly, he raised his arms.

  Bandages.

  Scars.

  Fresh and old, layered together.

  He let his arms drop again.

  He knew he had overused his ability.

  But he didn't regret it.

  His gaze drifted across the room. Wooden shelves. Hanging bundles of dried herbs. The dim, earthy light of Augs’ shop.

  The strong, bitter, medicinal scent no longer bothered him.

  He stared at the ceiling, deliberately emptying his mind and refusing to think about the dream.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  Or what it meant.

  After a while, soft footsteps approached.

  A quiet intake of breath.

  Kael turned his head and saw Astra standing beside the bed with a bowl of water. The surprise in her eyes told him all he needed to know.

  He had been gone longer than he thought.

  "How long?" he asked flatly.

  Astra hesitated before answering. "Three days."

  She sat down beside him, her worry impossible to hide. "How do you feel? Can you get up?"

  Kael glanced down at himself, then shook his head.

  "No."

  Astra exhaled softly. "We thought so."

  She lifted the bowl toward his lips.

  He noticed the dryness of his mouth and gave her a brief look of gratitude.

  She must have been the one who had nursed him through the last three days.

  She helped him sit up and steadied him while he drank greedily from the bowl. The water soothed his throat almost instantly.

  Astra smiled at the sight, but her smile quickly faded.

  Her expression hardened. "We need to talk about the escape. You can’t keep using your ability like that. Look what it did to your body! You almost died.”

  The last words struck harder than the rest.

  Kael flinched for a moment. Then, he turned to her with an empty expression on his face.

  "Don't worry," he said calmly. "I'll keep going until you reach your goal."

  Her eyes widened. "No, that's not—"

  But Kael had already turned away, his gaze fixed on the wall.

  "Thank you for nursing me," he added flatly. "But it won't be necessary anymore."

  Silence stretched between them.

  Astra’s jaw tightened. “Fine. We're leaving in four days. Be ready.”

  She stood and walked away, her steps controlled, but anger clung to her like a shadow.

  Kael remained still.

  What good are bonds if they can break at any moment?

  The sadness lingered despite his efforts to ignore it.

  After a while, he tried to stand.

  Pain tore through his body, sharp and unforgiving. His legs trembled and sweat beaded on his skin as he forced himself to stand. He grabbed a nearby staff, leaned heavily on it, and breathed through clenched teeth as he made his way toward the bathroom.

  Behind the counter, Astra watched him.

  She didn’t move to help him.

  Worry still flickered in her eyes, though.

  Kael locked the bathroom door behind him, leaned against it, shut his eyes, and fought for breath. Slowly, he undressed and stepped into the bathtub.

  The icy water stole his breath but dulled the pain.

  For a moment, he allowed himself that relief.

  When he rose from the tub, dripping and unsteady, he stared at his reflection.

  His white hair clung to his shoulders, damp and tangled.

  He narrowed his eyes.

  Without hesitation, he grabbed the knife beside the mirror.

  Long, pale strands fell to the floor as he cut—carelessly and unevenly—until his hair barely brushed his forehead. No precision. No regret.

  Then, his gaze shifted.

  A bowl filled with a thick black paste sat nearby. Bitter herbs. Iron. Old methods.

  He took the bowl and worked the mixture through his hair with steady hands, watching the white disappear beneath the dark.

  When he finally rinsed it away, the mirror reflected someone else.

  Kael studied the stranger in the mirror for a long moment.

  "This is better," he murmured.

  He took his staff, opened the door, and left the bathroom.

  When Astra saw his new look, her eyes widened.

  Kael noticed her gaze and shrugged.

  "We need to conceal ourselves," he said evenly. "The Empire is hunting us."

  He didn't tell her the real reason.

  She didn’t need to carry that weight, too.

  Without another word, he limped back to the bed and sat down, his jaw tightening as pain flared through his back.

  Not long after, Augs appeared and examined Kael’s injuries. The room remained quiet as he replaced the old bandages with fresh ones. When he finished, he looked up, his expression unreadable.

  "She has lost many people in her life already," Augs said quietly. "She needs you now just as much as you need her. Don’t shut her out.”

  Kael stiffened.

  He knew Augs was right.

  "I need time," Kael murmured at last.

  Augs smiled softly.

  "I hope you're granted enough of it. In the end, time is the most precious thing a human can possess.”

  He stood up, put a bowl of soup in Kael’s hands, and walked away, leaving Kael alone to eat and sit with his thoughts.