Kael didn’t reply. Together, they slipped out of the alley and moved swiftly and silently toward the administrative building, always keeping to the shadows.

  After a short while, Kael suddenly stopped.

  "Wait," he whispered.

  Astra stopped and turned toward him, a questioning look in her eyes.

  “Doesn’t it strike you as strange?” Kael continued quietly. "We haven't seen a single guard. Even if the knights were called back to the palace, there should still be regular patrols here. The others couldn't have distracted all of them."

  Astra slowly turned her head and scanned the empty street. The silence felt wrong. Too clean, too deliberate.

  "You're right," she said after a moment. Her eyes narrowed. "Whoever warned them knew more than just our location. They knew how we’d move.”

  She looked back at him, a sharp edge creeping into her voice. "Which means they're waiting. Either in front of the administrative building or inside it.”

  A brief, bitter smile crossed her lips. “And you still think it wasn’t Cas?”

  "Cas?" Kael echoed, then shook his head. "That doesn't matter right now. I still believe her. Even if someone betrayed us, why assume it wasn’t one of our own?” His gaze hardened. “Do you really trust everyone in this group?”

  Astra met his eyes, her black gaze unreadable. For a moment, she said nothing. Then she looked away and exhaled slowly.

  "It doesn't matter anymore," she said. "We just need to get out."

  She stepped to the edge of the alley and peered into the darkness on either side of her. Kael tightened his grip on the scabbard of his sword, his body tensing instinctively.

  After a moment, Astra turned back to him, one hand resting on her weapon.

  “I might have an idea,” she said. "But it's risky. We only intended to use it as a last resort.”

  Before Kael could ask any questions, she raised her hand. "Let me check first if it's even possible. If so, I’ll tell you.”

  Frustration flashed across Kael's face as he clenched his jaw, but he nodded.

  Astra gave a tired smile. "Then we need to move toward the outer parts of the academy. That’s the only place where I can try it.”

  Kael’s expression shifted. "Then let's go to my old dormitory. It’s right at the edge of the grounds.” He hesitated for a moment. "There's one last thing I need to do. You can test your idea while I do it.”

  Astra frowned. "Are you sure this is the right time?" Her voice softened slightly. "Sometimes it hurts less to leave a place untouched than to return to it one last time."

  Kael shook his head, the resolve in his eyes hardening. "I have to. It’s important.”

  Astra studied his face and then nodded. She knew better than to argue when he looked like that.

  Together, they turned away from the inner grounds of the academy and ran toward the outer edge until the forest swallowed them in silence.

  They moved carefully through the trees for a long while, holding their breath as branches brushed past them like fleeting memories. When the forest finally thinned, Kael’s old dormitory emerged before them, pale in the moonlight. It seemed as if time itself had paused to witness its fading beauty and Kael's fading presence.

  Kael stopped.

  The sight of it tightened something in his chest. Astra halted beside him, her gaze lingering on him, not the building.

  “I’m going,” Kael said quietly, stepping forward.

  “Wait.”

  Astra caught his arm. He turned to her, surprised.

  "I'm sorry," she said softly. "For saying you betrayed me." A faint, sad smile touched her lips. "I never truly believed that. You’re naive, yes. Righteous, painfully so. But you hold on to those things.” Her eyes softened. "I said you never changed, but maybe it's good that you didn't. I’m glad to have you as my faded companion.”

  Kael blinked, caught off guard.

  Astra hesitated, then withdrew her hand and turned away. "I'll come back for you," she said over her shoulder. “Stay here. Write the things you couldn’t say.” She glanced back once, with a knowing look in her eyes. "Some words shouldn't only be carried in the heart."

  Then she vanished into the forest.

  Kael exhaled slowly, feeling tired but faintly amused. Astra had guessed it. And she was right. The last words he had written were no longer enough.

  The dormitory stood silent as he entered, empty of movement and sound. He walked to his room and stepped inside.

  From his hiding place, he retrieved his diary and sat at the desk. The room's fragile familiarity—the worn floor, the crooked shadows—made his chest ache.

  So he wrote.

  He wrote the words he hadn't been able to say at the ball. He wrote about his regret, his fear, and his gratitude. He wrote about how cruel it felt to leave without saying goodbye properly and how unfair it was to leave those feelings behind on paper.

  When he finished, he closed the diary, intending to hide it again.

  But he hesitated.

  Zaros and Lia would search for it eventually. That would take time.

  Instead, he smiled faintly.

  They always hid the spare key under the stairs to surprise and tease him.

  So he carried the diary with him.

  Outside, he descended the stairs slowly. On the last step, he crouched down and put the diary next to the key. His smile trembled, sadness curling beneath it.

  Then footsteps.

  Kael froze.

  A voice followed, casual and familiar—too familiar.

  "Yo."

  Kael turned around instantly, his thoughts spiraling and his breath catching.

  Zaros stood there with his hands clasped behind his back and his gaze wandering aimlessly through the air.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  "Look," Zaros began, rubbing the back of his neck. "I came to apologize for what I said at the ball. I didn’t mean—” His words died.

  Zaros’s eyes dropped.

  They fixed on the sword in Kael’s hand.

  They were fixed on the sword in Kael’s hand, which was now impossible to hide.

  Zaros’s gaze darkened instantly.

  His eyes inevitably dropped toward the sword. He knew it at once. Anyone raised within the Order would.

  "Why," he asked quietly, his voice deep and unnervingly calm, "do you have that sword?"

  Kael met his gaze and shook his head vehemently. "Zaros, please. We don't have to do this. Just let me leave with it."

  Zaros’s eyes widened.

  Then they shattered.

  "So you really are one of them," he whispered, his voice filled with devastation.

  His hands trembled. Then he clenched them so tightly that his knuckles cracked.

  “So you really betrayed the Empire?” Zaros roared, his voice breaking under the weight of rage and grief. “You betrayed me?”

  Kael swallowed hard. "No," he said, his voice shaking. "I never wanted to hurt you. I have to do this. I need to reclaim my past. I need to remember.”

  Zaros laughed once—short and hollow—and pointed at himself. "And what about me? What about Lia?" His voice trembled. "Was everything a lie? Did you ever see us as your family? Me As your brother?"

  "Of course!" Kael cried. "You are my family. That will never change. Please, go back. Let me go."

  For a moment, Zaros looked as though he might collapse.

  Anger faded into pain. Pain turned to sorrow. Sorrow turned into helplessness.

  Then, his jaw tightened.

  His eyes hardened.

  "As a knight of the Order and the son of the Commander," Zaros said in a steady, terrifying voice, "I pass judgment on a traitor to the Empire."

  He raised his sword.

  "Surrender—or die."

  Kael held his gaze. Slowly, he lowered his eyes, then lifted them again with a sad smile.

  "My brother always told me," Kael said softly, "that I should never surrender."

  Zaros’s grip faltered.

  Then he drew his blade.

  The steel caught the moonlight, and Kael’s breath hitched.

  Motarith.

  Zaros noticed his reaction and exhaled bitterly. "I was going to tell you tonight," he said quietly. "I was officially accepted as a knight." His voice broke. "I never imagined the first blood this sword would taste would be yours."

  He lunged.

  Kael barely had time to draw his own weapon before the impact sent a wave of pain up his arms. Zaros was faster. Stronger. This time, he was fighting without restraint.

  Kael couldn’t press forward. He couldn't take the initiative. Every movement was a defense or evasion; every breath was stolen between blows.

  Zaros fought as he always had, with relentless strength and precise positioning that denied Kael any chance to counter.

  It was a style meant to kill.

  But then Kael noticed it.

  The strikes grew heavier. Wilder. Less controlled.

  Zaros's movements became brutal and reckless, fueled not by training but by fury.

  Kael blocked another crushing blow, barely holding his ground as the force rattled his bones.

  His eyes widened.

  The sword.

  It's amplifying his emotions.

  “Zaros!” Kael shouted. "You have to let go of the sword! It’s consuming you!”

  Zaros ignored him.

  Instead, he punched Kael in the abdomen with brutal force.

  For a moment, Kael couldn't breathe.

  The world collapsed in on itself as he was thrown to the ground; his sword skidded across the grass several meters away.

  His vision swam. Pain pulsed through his body. Before he could roll onto his side, Zaros was standing over him, blade raised, tip hovering above Kael’s chest.

  “Zaros!” Kael gasped. "What would Lia say if you killed me now? She would never forgive you!"

  Zaros hesitated.

  Just for a fraction of a second.

  Kael seized the moment, pushing himself up and grabbing Zaros’s arms. He desperately tried to force the sword away. But Zaros’s eyes hardened once more.

  His fist struck Kael’s side.

  The impact sent Kael flying. He hit the ground hard, the air being forced from his lungs. Each breath burned like fire, but he forced himself to his feet and staggered toward his fallen sword.

  “Please, Zaros,” Kael pleaded. “We have to stop! Now!"

  Zaros advanced steadily toward him. Unstoppable.

  "You once asked me what happened in the Labyrinth," Kael said, clutching his shirt over his heart as the memory came back to him. "I hid something from you."

  Zaros slowed.

  Kael swallowed, his voice breaking. "It showed me two futures. One of loss. Mourning. Death." His eyes filled with tears. "Your death. Lia’s death.”

  His breath trembled.

  "The other one was warmth. Life. Joy.” He smiled faintly. "But without me."

  “So please,” Kael whispered. "Let me go. That first future won't happen."

  He took a shaky step forward. "You can become what your father never was. Lia will be the greatest potion brewer this empire has ever seen. Forget me. Live on.”

  Zaros stopped.

  For the first time, the fury drained from his face. In its place was grief.

  "We could never forget you," he hissed, the words torn from his chest.

  Then his expression turned cold.

  "So let me be the one who bears the sin of killing my brother," Zaros said quietly.

  He charged.

  Kael closed his eyes.

  A soft smile touched his lips.

  I could never kill him, Kael thought. That vision must be false.

  He activated his ability:

  Kronos.

  The world froze.

  Snow hung suspended in the air. Zaros stood before Kael, poised to strike, his sword mere inches from Kael’s heart.

  Kael focused.

  He saw the trajectory.

  He knew how to evade and strike Zaros’s right shoulder to disable him and end this without death.

  Time resumed.

  Kael moved.

  He twisted aside and drove his blade forward.

  But the strike he expected never came.

  Instead, Zaros’s sword stopped just short of Kael’s heart.

  Kael’s eyes widened.

  A dry, cracking chuckle cut through the silence.

  "You're predictable," Zaros said quietly.

  Kael looked up.

  Zaros stood before him.

  His sword was still raised.

  However, Kael’s blade was buried deep in Zaros’s chest.

  Blood ran down the steel blade in slow, surreal lines.

  Zaros’s legs gave way.

  Kael caught him before he hit the ground; his body reacted before his mind could follow.

  “No—” Kael stammered. "No... This wasn't supposed to happen..."

  Kronos had shown Kael the time.

  It had not shown him the truth.

  His hands trembled as he held Zaros. Warmth soaked through his clothes, sticky and real.

  Zaros let out a weak laugh.

  With great effort, he lifted his arm and pulled Kael closer in a fragile, fading embrace.

  "I don't know," he murmured. "It was like waking from a trance when I saw you standing there."

  A faint smile touched his lips.

  "You looked just like you always did when we trained. That same stubborn look . . . the one you had every time you lay on the ground after I beat you.” His breath faltered. "How could I have killed you like that?"

  Kael couldn’t answer.

  His thoughts were gone. He was reduced to pressure, warmth, and the weight of another body in his arms.

  Then Zaros coughed.

  Blood stained his lips.

  Kael jerked as if he had been struck awake.

  "No—no, no," he whispered, lowering Zaros to the ground and pressing his hands desperately against the wound. "Stay with me. Please.”

  The blood didn’t stop flowing.

  It kept flowing. Warm. Endless.

  A weak hand closed around his wrist.

  Kael froze.

  He looked down.

  Zaros was smiling.

  That was when something inside Kael finally broke.

  Tears blurred his vision as they fell onto Zaros’s body, hot and uncontrollable.

  "Why..." Kael whispered, his voice breaking. "Why did it have to be like this?"

  Zaros's voice was barely a sound anymore. "Kael, don't carry this guilt."

  His trembling fingers brushed Kael’s cheek.

  "This was my choice."

  His eyes softened.

  "Remember this," he breathed. "We are brothers. Nothing can change that. Not even this.”

  His hand slipped from Kael’s face.

  "I'll wait for you," Zaros murmured. His voice dissolved into silence. "in the place where we are meant to remain friends. Always."

  His lips stopped moving.

  His hand fell from Kael’s face, lifeless, to the ground.

  The smile remained.

  Kael had nothing left.

  He sank down beside Zaros slowly, as if gravity itself had grown heavier.

  For a moment, he didn’t move.

  He only looked at Zaros’s face.

  It was peaceful.

  Too peaceful.

  A calm that lied.

  Trembling, Kael pressed his forehead against Zaros's, feeling the cold seep into him.

  A single, barely audible breath escaped his lungs.

  One tear broke free and fell onto Zaros’s skin.

  Only one.

  Kael closed his eyes.

  That's it, he thought. That’s the price.

  He stayed there for a moment.

  Then he stood up.

  His expression was empty.

  Not cold. Not enraged.

  Just...closed.

  "Emotions blind you," he said quietly, more to himself than to the motionless body beside him. "They weaken you."

  He reached for the sword.

  Footsteps echoed.

  Astra stopped abruptly when she saw Zaros’s lifeless body on the ground.

  Her eyes widened. Her breath caught.

  "Kael—" she began, stepping closer. Her voice was softer than he had ever heard it.

  She knelt beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder. Her expression was fractured by grief and disbelief.

  "I'm sorry," she whispered. For the first time, there was no strategy or resolve in her voice.

  It was real. “I—”

  Kael didn’t react.

  He was already standing.

  His face was expressionless.

  No tears.

  No trembling.

  He didn't glance back.

  He tightened his grip on the sword and walked past Astra.

  "Let's go," he said flatly. "Take his sword."

  Astra faltered at the emptiness in his voice. "Kael—"

  A sound tore through the night behind them.

  Lia.

  A cry fractured by grief. By disbelief.

  Kael’s step stalled.

  For a moment, his shoulder tensed as if every instinct in him screamed to turn around and hold her.

  But he didn’t.

  He took another step.

  Then another.

  The cries faded behind him.

  He kept walking.

  If feelings only lead to this much pain, he told himself, then I don’t need them anymore.