Kaelthar: The Iron Will

Kaelthar's eyes fluttered open, his body sinking into the weight of exhaustion. Every muscle ached, his chest burned, and sharp pains shot through his limbs at the slightest movement. His mind, however, was unnervingly clear, each thought as sharp as the blade he had wielded during the fateful night. He fought through the haze of his injuries, managing to turn his head slightly.

The room around him was dim, lit by a single flickering lantern that cast long shadows on the walls. His gaze fell on the two figures lying motionless on the adjacent beds. His father, Eryndor, and his mother, Kaelen, were alive—breathing, but still. Eryndor's robust frame, once a symbol of unshakable strength, seemed smaller now, his chest rising and falling with slow, labored breaths. Kaelen looked fragile, her pale face slick with sweat, her delicate features almost ghostly in the soft light.

The sight of them alive brought a wave of relief, but it was quickly smothered by guilt. I couldn't protect them, Kaelthar thought bitterly, his hand instinctively moving to his chest. Even through the layers of bandages, he swore he could feel the lingering cold—the icy chill that had clung to him since the battle. The memories rushed back with a vengeance: the demon's monstrous form, the searing heat of the flames, the bone-deep cold that had followed, and his father's desperate shouts. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the images away, but they refused to leave.

The door creaked softly, pulling Kaelthar from his thoughts. Myrael stepped into the room, her green eyes immediately locking onto him. Her breath hitched as she saw him awake, and in an instant, she was at his side. The worry etched into her face eased slightly as she grabbed his hand, holding it tightly.

"Kaelthar," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "Thank the stars… you're awake."

Kaelthar tried to smile, but it came out as little more than a grimace. His voice, raw and hoarse, barely made it past his lips. "Myrael… what happened? Are my parents—"

"They're alive," she said quickly, glancing at the beds where Eryndor and Kaelen lay. "The Saintess healed them as much as she could, but they're still weak. You've been unconscious for hours too." Her grip on his hand tightened. "But you're alive, Kaelthar. That's what matters."

Kaelthar frowned, the weight of her words doing little to ease his guilt. "I… I couldn't protect them. I failed."

"No," Myrael said firmly, leaning closer as her voice softened. "You didn't fail. None of this is your fault. No one could have known what was coming."

Kaelthar averted his gaze, unable to shake the feeling of helplessness that gnawed at him. Before he could respond, the door opened again, this time with more force. The figure that entered filled the room with an unmistakable presence—Adonis, the famed warrior of Valthyssar.

Clad in dark armor that seemed to absorb the dim light, Adonis was every bit as imposing as the stories had painted him. His piercing blue eyes scanned the room, locking onto Kaelthar with an intensity that made the young man's breath catch. Adonis's movements were deliberate, his posture exuding authority.

"Kaelthar," Adonis said, his deep voice resonating in the still air. "I need answers."

Myrael stepped aside, her hand reluctantly releasing Kaelthar's as the warrior approached the bed. Adonis loomed over Kaelthar, his sharp gaze unyielding.

Kaelthar's throat tightened under the scrutiny, but he forced himself to meet the warrior's gaze. "I… I don't remember everything clearly," he said, his voice strained. "It all happened so fast."

Adonis's expression didn't waver. "What I know is that your family was attacked by a demon. The Saintess saved your lives, but the damage was severe. From what I've been told, you're the one who killed the demon."

Kaelthar hesitated, the weight of those words sinking into him. He hadn't allowed himself to process it before, but now, faced with Adonis's unrelenting gaze, the truth was unavoidable.

"I… killed it," Kaelthar admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "It was going to kill us. I didn't have a choice."

Adonis's eyes narrowed slightly, his expression unreadable. "A demon like that—strong enough to destroy a home—and you killed it… alone?"

"Yes," Kaelthar said, the memory flashing in his mind. "I had to. I didn't think—I just acted. But…" He faltered, unsure how to explain what had happened. "There was something else. Something… inside me. I don't know how to describe it."

Adonis's brows furrowed, his skepticism evident. "Something inside you?" he repeated, his tone laced with doubt. "You're telling me that someone with no formal training somehow unlocked enough power to kill a demon of that magnitude?"

Kaelthar clenched his fists, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. "I don't know," he said, his voice firmer now. "All I know is that I fought it with everything I had, and in the end… I killed it."

Adonis was silent for a moment, studying Kaelthar with a piercing intensity. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and measured. "Incredible… but killing a demon of that caliber isn't something that just happens. It takes more than skill. Whatever you tapped into, Kaelthar, it's not ordinary."

Kaelthar swallowed hard, the weight of Adonis's words pressing down on him. He knew the warrior was right. That surge of power—whatever it had been—was unlike anything he'd ever experienced.

Adonis crossed his arms, his expression growing darker. "Do you have any idea why this happened? Why your family was targeted?"

Kaelthar shook his head slowly, his mind racing to piece together the fragments of the attack. "No," he said quietly. "But it wasn't random. The demon… it wasn't just trying to kill us. It wanted something."

Adonis's gaze sharpened, and for the first time, there was a flicker of concern in his eyes. "Then this isn't over," he said grimly. "Whoever sent that demon won't stop until they get what they want."

The room fell silent, the gravity of the situation settling over them like a heavy shroud. Myrael looked between the two men, her worry etched clearly on her face.

Kaelthar's chest tightened. He'd already known that the attack was only the beginning, but hearing it confirmed by Adonis made the danger feel all the more real.

Adonis turned toward the door, his movements deliberate. "Rest for now," he said without looking back. "You'll need your strength for what's to come."

As the door closed behind him, Kaelthar felt the weight of the warrior's words settle deep in his chest. Myrael reached for his hand again, her touch grounding him amidst the chaos of his thoughts.

"You're not alone in this," she said softly. "We'll figure it out. Together."

Kaelthar closed his eyes, the lingering cold in his chest a constant reminder of the battle he had fought—and the battles yet to come.