Greyhaven was a city built on top of its own misery.
The rich called it a trade city.
The people who lived there called it a graveyard.
The lower districts were a maze of crooked buildings, flooded alleys, and streets that never seemed to dry. Rainwater mixed with sewage and flowed between cracked stones. Rats crawled beneath overturned carts and disappeared through holes in walls. The smell of rotten food lingered in the air, mixed with smoke from dying furnaces and the unmistakable stench of death.
Nobody questioned it anymore.
When someone disappeared in Greyhaven, people simply moved their belongings aside.
There was always someone else waiting for the space.
Kael Veyron had been born there.
His mother used to tell him that Greyhaven wasn't always this ugly.
Kael never believed her.
He couldn't remember a beautiful Greyhaven.
He remembered hunger.
He remembered waking up to the sound of his mother's coughing.
He remembered watching children fight over pieces of bread thrown into the streets by merchants.
Most of all, he remembered the walls.
The enormous white walls surrounding the royal district.
Beyond them was another world.
The streets were clean.
The buildings were magnificent.
Magical lanterns floated above the roads.
Water flowed through crystal fountains.
People wearing expensive clothes walked beneath guards carrying enchanted weapons.
Magic.
The thing that separated them from Kael.
In Dregmoore, magic was the privilege of the royal bloodlines.
The people in Greyhaven could work until their hands bled, fight until their bones broke, and crawl through the mud until they reached the gates.
It wouldn't matter.
They were still commoners.
They were born beneath the royals.
And they were expected to die beneath them.
Kael hated that.
But hatred couldn't change his circumstances.
So he became a soldier.
At seventeen, he enlisted in the Blackcrest Guard.
For a while, life seemed different.
He received proper meals.
A uniform.
A bed.
A sword.
And most importantly, purpose.
Kael discovered that he was unusually talented with weapons.
A sword felt natural in his hands.
A spear didn't feel foreign.
A bow seemed to understand him.
Even weapons he had never touched before could be learned frighteningly quickly.
His commanders noticed.
Soon, Kael was being sent on increasingly dangerous missions.
He didn't complain.
He wanted to rise through the ranks.
He wanted money.
He wanted to buy his mother a home somewhere far away from Greyhaven.
He wanted to prove that someone born in the slums could become something greater.
Then he learned the truth.
The Blackcrest Guard wasn't protecting Dregmoore.
It was protecting the royals.
Villages suspected of rebellion were destroyed.
People who spoke against the crown disappeared.
Families were punished for crimes committed by one member.
And whenever the royal family wanted something done quietly...
They sent soldiers like Kael.
He began questioning orders.
His commanders noticed.
The final incident came when Kael was ordered to execute an entire village.
There were no soldiers there.
No rebellion.
No weapons.
Only ordinary people.
Kael refused.
From that moment onward, he was no longer considered a soldier.
He was considered a problem.
So they waited.
They waited until they could dispose of him without anyone asking questions.
And eventually, the opportunity came.
---
The mission was supposed to be simple.
Kael and twelve royal soldiers entered the Blackthorn Forest under the command of Captain Varick.
Their orders were to eliminate a group of supposed rebels hiding among the ruins of an abandoned settlement.
Kael noticed something strange almost immediately.
There were no signs of rebels.
No footprints.
No campfires.
No weapons.
Nothing.
He turned toward Captain Varick.
"Where are they?"
Varick didn't answer.
Kael's hand slowly moved toward his sword.
Then—
An arrow struck the ground beside his foot.
Kael spun around.
Another arrow flew past his face.
He drew his sword.
The royal soldiers behind him had already drawn theirs.
All twelve.
Pointing at him.
Kael stared at them.
"What is this?"
Captain Varick stepped forward.
His expression was almost apologetic.
Almost.
"Nothing personal."
Kael's eyes narrowed.
"You brought me here to die."
Varick smiled.
"The royal family has been watching you."
Kael's grip tightened around his sword.
"For what?"
"You've refused orders."
Kael said nothing.
"You've questioned your superiors."
Silence.
"And you've been speaking rather carelessly about the royal family."
Kael looked at the soldiers surrounding him.
He understood.
This wasn't a mission.
It was an execution.
"You were never going to let me leave."
"No."
Kael slowly smiled.
A bitter smile.
"Then you should have brought more men."
The first soldier attacked.
Kael moved.
His sword flashed through the darkness.
Steel struck steel.
One soldier stumbled backward.
Kael turned and drove his shoulder into another.
He was fast.
Faster than they expected.
But twelve against one was still twelve against one.
A spear struck his side.
Kael grunted.
A sword cut across his shoulder.
Another blow sent him crashing into the mud.
He tried to rise.
His vision blurred.
Boots surrounded him.
Captain Varick approached.
Kael spat blood into the dirt.
"Was I really that dangerous?"
Varick raised his sword.
"No."
He smiled.
"You were simply inconvenient."
The blade rose.
Kael looked toward the sky.
Rain began falling through the trees.
He thought about his mother.
He wondered if she would ever know what happened to him.
Then the sword came down.
And the world went dark.
Not night.
Not an eclipse.
Darkness.
Absolute darkness.
The soldiers froze.
Captain Varick's sword stopped inches above Kael.
There was no wind.
No rain.
No sound.
Even the forest seemed to have forgotten how to breathe.
Kael slowly lifted his head.
Someone stood between him and the soldiers.
A young figure.
Covered entirely in a black cloak.
The hood concealed the person's face.
Kael couldn't see their expression.
Couldn't sense their presence.
It was as if the darkness itself had taken human form.
Then—
A whisper entered Kael's mind.
"You have been betrayed."
Kael's eyes widened.
The voice was quiet.
Almost gentle.
Yet something about it made his blood run cold.
"You were abandoned by those you served."
A black book appeared beside Kael.
It hovered inches above the ground.
Its pages began turning.
"If you wish to survive..."
Kael stared at it.
"Accept me."
He didn't understand.
He didn't have time to.
Captain Varick's voice broke through the darkness.
"Kill him!"
The soldiers charged.
Kael reached toward the book.
His fingers touched its cover.
The world disappeared.
For one brief moment, Kael saw nothing.
Then he felt something enter him.
Not warmth.
Not pain.
Something colder.
Something ancient.
His fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword.
And suddenly...
He understood it.
Every weakness.
Every movement.
Every angle.
Every possible way the weapon could be used.
The sword no longer felt like something he carried.
It felt like another part of himself.
ABILITY — WEAPON DOMINION
Kael had been given the ability to understand weapons on a level beyond ordinary skill.
Every weapon he touched revealed itself to him.
Its balance.
Its weight.
Its structure.
Its strengths.
Its weaknesses.
The longer he used it, the deeper his connection became.
And when that connection reached its peak...
The weapon itself could be pushed beyond its natural limits.
Kael opened his eyes.
The darkness vanished.
The soldiers charged.
Kael moved.
The first blade shattered against his.
The second never reached him.
A spear came from his blind spot.
Kael turned before it arrived.
His sword struck the spear aside.
He stepped forward.
One strike.
Another.
Another.
The soldiers who had surrounded him only moments ago were now struggling to keep up.
Kael wasn't fighting like a trained soldier anymore.
He was fighting like someone who had spent his entire life waiting to discover what his body was capable of.
Captain Varick stumbled backward.
"What did they give you?"
Kael slowly walked toward him.
"They gave me nothing."
His sword rested against his shoulder.
"You did."
Varick's face changed.
Kael attacked.
The captain's sword broke.
Varick fell into the mud.
Kael stood over him.
For several seconds, neither moved.
Then Kael looked around.
The forest was filled with fallen soldiers and broken weapons.
The rain continued falling.
The blood beneath Kael's boots slowly disappeared beneath the mud.
The cloaked figure remained nearby.
Silent.
Watching.
Kael turned toward him.
"Who are you?"
The figure finally moved.
The hood shifted slightly, revealing the faint outline of a young face.
The voice that came from beneath it was calm.
"Look at the mess you made."
Kael glanced around.
The figure continued.
"Not bad."
A pause.
"You have potential."
Kael narrowed his eyes.
"And what do you want?"
The stranger turned away.
"Come with me."
Kael didn't move.
"Why?"
The figure stopped.
For a moment, the forest remained completely silent.
Then came the answer.
"Because the people who did this to you..."
The figure looked back.
"...are only a small part of the world that deserves to fall."
Kael stared at the cloaked stranger.
For the first time in years, he felt something he had almost forgotten.
Hope.
Not the soft kind.
Not the kind that promised a better tomorrow.
Something darker.
Something dangerous.
The possibility of revenge.
Kael sheathed his sword.
Then stepped forward.
The two figures disappeared into the rain.
Behind them remained only the bodies of the soldiers who had come to erase Kael Veyron from the world.
They had failed.
Instead...
They had created the first blade of something far more dangerous.
Something that would eventually reach the royal throne itself.