Albert was still buried in reports when a frantic voice called from outside his command tent.
"Lord Chreas!" one of his soldiers shouted, breathless. "We found someone fainted in the forest!"
Albert's brows knitted tightly. His tone sharpened instantly.
"Didn't I give clear orders? No civilians are to approach these grounds! Why is there someone wandering this close to Caldery Mountain?" His voice carried irritation; this was the very place where the strange roar had been heard. He rose to his feet. "Where is he?"
The soldier, flinching under his commander's anger, bowed hurriedly and gestured toward the medical tents. Albert stormed after him, boots pounding against the damp earth.
The moment he stepped inside, his expression froze.
On the cot lay a man with drenched white hair, his chest faintly rising and falling. Pale skin, a face once etched into every soldier's memory—unmistakable.
Albert's heart jolted violently. He rushed forward, nearly stumbling in disbelief.
"Lord Kael!" His cry rang louder than he intended.
The medics glanced up, startled, then realization dawned across their faces. Murmurs broke out in disbelief—some gasped, some dropped to one knee instinctively. The fallen figure wasn't just anyone; it was their true lord, the hero who once stood above all.
"He's only unconscious," one medic quickly reassured, checking Kael's pulse. "Likely exhaustion and exposure to the rain. But he's alive—his condition is stable."
Albert swallowed hard, forcing his composure back into place.
"Change his clothes at once. He cannot remain in drenched rags."
A few attendants hurried to obey. Albert handed over one of his own spare shirts from his emergency pack. He lingered close as they carefully dried Kael's hair and changed his muddied garments. Even after the work was done, Albert remained at his side, eyes narrowing in confusion.
How did he end up here, alone?
Silence fell once the medics left. Only the sound of rain pattering against the canvas roof filled the space. Albert hesitated, then slowly raised a hand toward Kael's forehead, meaning to check for fever.
But before he could touch him, Kael's body flinched. His eyes fluttered open.
"L–Lord Kael… you have awake?" Albert's words came out stiff, as always, that military tone clinging even in this fragile moment.
Kael's gaze shifted toward the voice. Recognition flickered in his eyes. He slowly pushed himself upright. Albert instinctively reached out to steady him, but Kael brushed him away with a firm, silent motion. He didn't want to be touched.
Albert stiffened, his hand hanging awkwardly in the air.
Kael's crimson eyes swept the tent, confusion shadowing them. The unfamiliar sight unsettled him. Albert quickly filled the silence.
"You are at the camp near Caldery Mountain, my lord," he explained, almost too quickly.
Kael said nothing. His brows furrowed faintly as he recalled fragments—the storm, the butterfly's glow, the endless rain. His hand lifted to the space between his eyebrows, fingers pressing against the dull ache there. Dizziness clawed at him.
Albert, watching the silent figure, asked in hesitation, "Why… Why did you come here alone, my lord? Wasn't Lord Robert and Lady Elric supposed to be at your side?"
But no answer came. Kael merely stood, legs unsteady. Before he could collapse, Albert darted forward and caught him.
"Lord Kael!" He tightened his hold. "Be careful—you shouldn't walk too fast—"
But Kael pushed him away again, stubbornly, and made for the tent's entrance.
The rain had lightened, now only a mist. Clouds still shrouded the moon, leaving the world dim and silverless. Outside, the soldiers standing guard noticed movement and immediately dropped to their knees in reverence.
Kael froze at the sudden display. His body stiffened, discomfort flickering across his face.
Albert coughed deliberately, raising a hand. "At ease," he ordered the men. He recalled Robert's warning well—Kael disliked attention, disliked the weight of reverence. The soldiers obeyed, lowering their heads but standing back.
Kael's eyes, however, had already shifted past them. Beyond the campfires, a cave mouth loomed, guarded by two soldiers. Something about it pulled at him—like an invisible thread tugging deep inside his chest. His feet began moving toward it without hesitation.
"Lord Kael, you cannot enter!" Albert strode after him, lifting a hand in warning. His voice tightened as he gestured sharply to his men. "Stop him!"
The guards blocked Kael's path, though with clear reluctance.
"This area is under investigation," Albert explained, trying to temper his voice. "It isn't safe. Please… refrain from taking another step forward, my lord."
But the look in Kael's eyes told him plainly—words alone would not sway him.
Before the standoff could break, the thunder of hooves cut through the camp. Soldiers scattered to clear the way as two horses galloped into view.
Elric was the first to leap down, her cloak flying behind her as she sprinted across the mud. "Kael!" Her voice cracked against the night air, raw with desperation. She ran straight for him, heedless of the soldiers around.
Kael turned his head at the sound. The sight of her running toward him, calling his name—it stirred something buried deep. A flash, fleeting and sharp, like a memory he couldn't hold.
Then the world tilted. His knees buckled as darkness swept in again.
"Lord Kael!" Albert lunged forward just in time to catch him before he struck the ground. Elric's breathless steps reached them only a heartbeat later, her hands trembling as she reached for Kael's arm.
The camp stood frozen in silence, the stormclouds above heavy with an ominous stillness.
-----------------------------------------
A child's laughter echoed faintly through the woods.
A boy, no older than seven or eight, darted between the trees with a crude wooden sword in hand. The blade was crooked, carved clumsily from a branch he had cut himself, but to him it was the greatest treasure in the world.
"Hah!" he shouted, swinging it wildly at invisible foes. "One day, I'll be a soldier… no, stronger than a soldier!" His small frame twirled and hopped as though dancing. The forest had become his secret training ground, the only place he could swing his sword without being scolded.
But then—
A deep, guttural groan cut through the air. It was not the sound of wind or beast he had ever heard before. It was like a tiger's snarl, like a lion's growl—low, pained, and heavy.
The boy froze. His wooden sword trembled slightly in his grip. His heart thudded with fear, but curiosity was stronger. Step by step, he crept toward the source of the sound, leaves crunching under his bare feet.
When he parted the bushes, his breath caught.
There, curled among the trees, was a dragon.
Its scales shimmered faintly under the fractured sunlight filtering through the canopy. A majestic creature—yet one wing hung at an odd angle, torn and bleeding. The great beast hissed sharply when the boy stepped forward, eyes glowing like embers in warning.
But the child did not retreat.
He dropped his little wooden sword to the ground with a dull clatter. Slowly, he raised both hands into the air, palms open in a gesture of surrender. His face broke into a gentle smile.
"I won't hurt you," his eyes seemed to say, though no words left his lips.
The dragon blinked, its breathing harsh. Yet strangely, there was no malice it could sense from the child. The wild fear it expected never came. Instead, the boy's innocent gaze met its own—clear, fearless, unwavering.
The beast lowered its head slightly, allowing him to approach.
The boy's small hands reached out and touched the torn membrane of its wing. His fingers were clumsy but tender, brushing against the wound. The dragon rumbled low in its throat, a warning and a question all at once.
Then, the boy ran off into the trees. The dragon watched, expecting him never to return. But only a few minutes later, the child came hurrying back, arms full of green herbs and plants he had gathered.
He knelt by a large stone, grinding the herbs with both hands until they became a pulpy paste. Carefully, he smeared the crushed plants onto the dragon's injured wing.
"There… this should help," the boy whispered more to himself than to the beast. His tiny hands shook, yet his expression remained bright and kind.
The dragon's great golden eye lingered on him. Then, without moving its lips, a deep voice resonated within the boy's mind.
'What is your name, young child?'
The boy startled, jerking his head up. He looked around wildly, lips parting in confusion. "Wh–what…?" His heart raced until realization struck—the voice came from the dragon.
At first, fear stiffened his body. But then, just as quickly, he understood. His lips curved again into a smile, bright and unshaken.
"My name is Kael."
The dragon's eyes narrowed, its gaze softening, memorizing the sound of that name.
And deep within that forest, a bond was quietly born.
-----------------------------------------
Kael's eyes fluttered open. The canvas of the tent ceiling blurred above him, dimly lit by lantern light. A single tear slid down the side of his face, leaving a faint stain on his cheek.
He lifted a trembling hand to wipe it, but froze mid-motion. That dream—no, that memory. The dragon… he had known it. Not as the famed Hero, but before. Long before. Yet why, then, had he fought against it in the end? The contradiction tore at him, filling his chest with a sorrow he could not name.
His fingers clenched the fabric of his shirt near his heart. It ached as though something precious had slipped through his hands.
Outside, he heard muffled voices—soldiers shifting, and beyond them, Elric's voice carried, calm but strained as she issued instructions.
The sound of soft footsteps approached. The tent flap parted.
"Kael!"
Elric rushed inside. When she saw him upright on the cot, her eyes widened, and without hesitation she fell to her knees beside him, pulling him into her arms. Her embrace was warm, trembling.
"You're awake… thank the stars…" Her fingers brushed through his damp hair as if reassuring herself that he was real. "Kael, are you okay?"
As always, he gave her no answer.
Slowly, Elric pulled back, though reluctance lingered in her touch. Her hands cupped his cheeks, one sliding down to his neck, carefully checking his temperature. Relief softened her features when she found no fever.
"Thank goodness… I was afraid your fever would worsen."
Her gaze lowered then, catching the faint glisten on his cheeks. A tear track.
"Kael…" she whispered, her brows furrowing. "Did you have another nightmare?"
He shook his head.
"Then why are you crying?" she pressed gently, worry etched into every syllable.
Kael's crimson eyes lifted to meet hers, unwavering. His lips parted, voice hoarse but steady.
"…I knew about the dragon."
Elric blinked, confusion flashing across her face. "…What do you mean you know about the dragon?"
He hesitated, his silence heavy, then finally murmured:
"…When I was a kid. We met."
The words struck her like a bolt. Her eyes trembled; shock and disbelief warred in them. Before she could respond, the flap rustled again and Robert entered, his boots still damp from the storm.
"Elric—" His voice cut short as he spotted Kael awake. Relief surged in his features, though his expression carried the weight of worry.
"Young master…" Robert's voice cracked. He hurried to Kael's side and knelt, grasping his wrist gently. His head bowed, pressing Kael's cold hand to his forehead as if in prayer. "Why did you run outside yesterday? In that storm…" His throat tightened. "I thought I'd lost you again. Thank the gods you're safe."
Memories of Kael collapsing the night before haunted him still, and his heart ached.
Robert quickly rose, determination stealing his tone. "We need to return to the castle at once. This place is dangerous. I'll have the carriage prepared immediately—"
But before he could turn, Kael's fingers closed around his wrist.
Robert froze. Elric, too, went still. Neither of them had expected Kael to stop him.
Kael's gaze lifted, crimson eyes steady, carrying a quiet resolve.
"…Here… I sense something here…"
His voice was soft, yet firm, as though pulled by an unseen thread. His gaze shifted toward the direction of the guarded cave outside. "…Let me into the cave."
Both Elric and Robert stiffened. Robert looked to Elric for guidance, his brows furrowed in unease.
"No, Kael," Elric said firmly, shaking her head. "We can't stay here. At least let us confirm what lies within before—"
"I need to check something."
His voice cut through hers, unwavering. The weight of his determination silenced her.
Elric exhaled slowly, pressing a hand over her chest. She knew she would not win this battle with words alone. Kael's eyes told her everything—he would not turn back, not this time.
"…Alright," she relented at last, her voice low, edged with worry. "But this time, I'll go with you."
Robert's lips pressed into a thin line, his unease deepening. But when he saw the quiet resolve in both their expressions, he swallowed his protests.
Inside the tent, the storm's echoes faded into silence, leaving only the weight of unspoken truths and the inevitable path forward—toward the cave that seemed to call for Kael.