“The Gate opens,” Callum murmurs, half-conscious now. “The God rises… the Valkyrie bleeds… the broken one burns…”
Kieran closes his eyes.
When he opens them again, something has settled. Not healed — nothing could heal this — but decided.
“We take him with us,” Kieran says.
His voice is barely a whisper, but it carries.
Torric swears under his breath. Aspen’s expression tightens with frustration. Finn doesn’t turn around.
But Malrik just nods.
“Then we need to move,” Malrik says. “Whatever broke him, whatever’s waiting at the Keep — we can’t stay here.”
Callum collapses.
One second he’s murmuring prophecies to no one, the next his eyes roll back and he crumples like a puppet with its strings cut.
Malrik catches him before he hits the ground, lowering him carefully to the dirt.
“Exhaustion,” he says, checking Callum’s pulse. “Or something else. Either way, he’s out.”
He scans Callum’s arms, his neck. “No fresh wounds. Just old scars. Whatever broke him — it wasn’t physical.”
Bob takes point, posture rigid. Mouse pads in a slow circle around us now, no longer frozen — alert, tracking every sound. The small shadows Finn kept counting earlier edge closer, restless with whatever’s wrong here.
Kieran hasn’t moved.
He’s still kneeling where Callum collapsed, staring at the space where his friend used to be. His hands are pressed flat against his thighs like he’s afraid of what they’ll do if he lets them move.
I crouch beside him.
“Hey.”
He doesn’t look at me.
“Kieran. Hey.”
His eyes finally meet mine. They’re red-rimmed. Devastated. Older than I’ve ever seen them.
“Thank you,” he whispers.
“Don’t thank me yet.” I put my hand on his arm, feeling the tremor still running through him. “We’re not out of this.”
“I know.” His voice cracks. “But you gave me a choice. You didn’t take it from me.”
“Of course,” I say softly. “Because choice matters, Kieran.”
Something shifts in his expression. Realizing just what he did taking my choice from me.
He nods.
I squeeze his arm, then stand.
Torric and Malrik lift Callum between them. He’s lighter than he should be — I can see it in how easily they carry him, how his bones jut beneath his clothes.
Whatever Alekir did to him, it hollowed him out. Left nothing but madness and what sounds like twisted prophecy.
