Katria
The forest hadn’t moved since the dream broke.
Snow hung in the air in still, slow descent, and the aurora above us burned red enough to stain the world. I could still hear the Dreamkeeper’s voice in the back of my mind—soft as breath, heavy as judgment.If you wish to keep her, you must learn to let her go.
Kael was the first to speak. “Well,” he said, brushing frost from his sleeve, “that was mildly horrifying.”
Kaelith didn’t answer. He stood a few paces away, head bowed, glove pressed against the hilt of his sword like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. The frostlight along his wrist flickered with each unsteady breath.
Kael tilted his head toward him. “You’re quiet, Brother. That’s never a good sign.”
Kaelith finally looked up, eyes colder than the air. “We’re going back.”
Kael blinked. “What?”
“Skadar Hold,” Kaelith said, voice clipped. “We need to return.”
Kael gave a sharp laugh. “Brilliant. Straight back into Father’s frostbitten arms. Why not hang a banner that saystraitorwhile we’re at it?”
“This isn’t up for debate.”
“Oh, I think it is.” Kael stepped forward, heat rippling faintly around him and the air steaming where his boots met the snow. “In case you’ve forgotten, he’s already half-mad and convinced you’ve doomed his kingdom. Walking back through those gates will only confirm it.”
“I need to face him.”
“You need tothink.”
Kaelith’s jaw clenched. “I have thought. And what I saw out here—the sky, the Veil—it’s spreading. If we don’t report it, Torrin will twist the truth himself.”
Kael snorted. “And since when has your word mattered more than his?”
Kaelith’s expression didn’t change, but something flickered behind his eyes—weariness, regret, maybe both. “It’s not my word I’m protecting.”
His gaze shifted toward me.
The words I wanted to say froze in my throat. For a moment, none of us spoke. Even Fenrir stopped pacing, his ears flicking toward the stillness between us.
Kael exhaled, the warmth from his breath clouding the air. “You’re serious.”
Kaelith nodded once. “The Dreamkeeper said she was chosen before birth. That makes her the key to the Dreamstone’s awakening—and Father’s wrath will reach her whether she’s inside the Hold or not. At least within its walls, I can control who gets to her.”
Kael studied him for a long moment. Then, quieter, “You meanTorrin.”
Kaelith didn’t deny it.
Kael swore softly. “You’re going to get yourself killed trying to play honor in a game that’s already lost.”
Kaelith met his brother’s eyes, the faintest ghost of a smile there—bitter, humorless. “You’ve always mistaken restraint for surrender.”
“And you’ve always mistaken duty for salvation.”
Their stares locked—heat and frost, neither willing to yield. The aurora pulsed again above us, throwing streaks of gold across Kael’s hair and silver across Kaelith’s armor. For a heartbeat, they looked less like enemies and more like two sides of the same coin, forever spinning and never landing.
I finally broke the silence. “He’s right, isn’t he?”
Both turned to look at me.
“The Frostfather won’t stop,” I said. “If we keep running, he’ll just send more soldiers—or worse. At least in Skadar Hold, we’ll know where the danger is.”
