The rain did not stop.
It fell harder through the night, pounding against the broken stones of the watchtower as if the sky itself was testing them. Kael sat near the center of the room, eyes closed, listening to the sound.
Around him, the three newcomers rested quietly. They were tired, frightened, and uncertain—but they had chosen to stay.
Ryn leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "You realize what you just did, right?"
Kael opened his eyes. "I gave them a choice."
"You became responsible for them."
Kael looked at the small group. The woman had wrapped her cloak around her shoulders. One of the men was tending to a scraped arm.
"Yes," Kael said. "I did."
Silence followed.
Then one of the men spoke. "We never even got your name."
Kael hesitated.
For years, his name had only meant one thing.
A prince.
A tool.
A disappointment.
"I'm Kael," he said. "Just Kael."
Ryn smirked. "That won't last."
The woman smiled faintly. "Then what do we call what this is?"
Kael looked around the ruined tower. At the rain outside. At the people who had chosen to stay.
"A beginning," he replied.
She shook her head gently. "Beginnings need names."
Kael was quiet for a long time.
Finally, he spoke.
"Loyalty," he said.
The word felt heavy—but right.
"This place, this group… it will be built on loyalty. Not fear. Not gold."
Ryn laughed quietly. "You really are trying to build a kingdom without chains."
"Someone has to."
Thunder rolled.
Far away, in the royal capital, King Vortigan stood in front of a wide table covered in reports.
A village protected.
False soldiers defeated.
A young leader gathering followers.
"So he's finally moving," the king murmured.
A servant knelt. "Your Majesty, should we—"
"Send hunters," Vortigan said coldly. "If my son wants loyalty… we will show him fear."
Back in the watchtower, Kael felt a strange chill run down his spine.
The storm outside had not ended.
It was only growing stronger.
And for the first time, it was coming for him.
(To be continued)