The wind was crueler the next morning. It howled across the frozen river like a beast hunting prey, scattering frost and brittle pine needles across the narrow paths of Frostmere. Kaelen stood at the edge of the village square, watching the villagers move through their routines. They pretended not to notice him now. But he could feel it—their glances, the way they moved with unease. Like animals sensing a predator nearby.
He welcomed it.
Jorik approached again, this time carrying a bundle of supplies—dried meats, old maps, a flask of firebrew.
"Thought you might need these," he said. "You're not meant to stay here, are you?"
Kaelen took the bundle. "No."
"Didn't think so. You carry the scent of deeper roads. The kind we try not to walk anymore."
Kaelen almost smiled at that. "Then maybe you should've burned that chapel."
Jorik's face tightened. "We tried. Once. The stone wouldn't take flame. Whatever sleeps beneath it... it wants to be remembered."
Kaelen's fingers twitched. He'd felt that same hum beneath the surface—threads of something ancient. Something that remembered him.
"There's more than one place like that," Jorik added. "Scattered across the dead kingdoms. Some say they're bones of the First World. Others say they're wounds left by the Rift."
Kaelen nodded slowly. "Do any lie east of here?"
Jorik hesitated, then pulled an old, cracked scroll from his coat. "A ruin past the Bleeding Forest. Covered in ash and shadow. Locals call it Hollowrest."
Kaelen took the scroll. His vision pulsed. The name echoed inside his mind like a half-remembered scream. Hollowrest. It meant something.
It was calling.
That night, Kaelen left Frostmere.
The village faded behind him as he crossed the frozen river and entered the wilds. Snow thickened, trees grew gnarled and twisted, and the sky above seemed to pulse with dim violet hues. He moved like a shadow through the trees, no longer bound by the clumsiness of his escape. Power simmered under the surface—not unleashed, but ready.
He reached the edge of the Bleeding Forest after two days of travel.
The forest earned its name. Sap ran from the trees in thick crimson rivulets. The bark split in patterns resembling veins. Some trees wept. Others whispered in voices Kaelen could almost understand.
The Rift had touched this place. Left echoes behind.
Kaelen didn't flinch.
He walked between the trees as the whispers grew louder. At night, he dreamed of broken cities floating in empty space. Of a girl with six wings and no eyes, holding a blade made of memory.
Each morning, his eyes glowed brighter. Each step drew him closer to Hollowrest.
It took another day to find it.
The ruins stood atop a black hill, surrounded by craters and dead stone. No birds sang here. No beasts wandered. The air itself felt stale, wrong. Time moved strangely. The clouds above circled in slow spirals.
Kaelen climbed the hill.
At the summit, he found remnants of an old tower—collapsed, half-swallowed by the earth. Symbols still burned faintly in the stone. The same symbols that had been etched into his skin.
He stepped inside.
The air turned warm. The shadows thickened. And the world... shifted.
Reality peeled.
Suddenly, he was standing in a different chamber. Clean. Whole. Lit by violet fire. Figures in white robes stood around a glowing dais.
One turned to him. Silver eyes. Familiar features.
Himself.
But older.
The older Kaelen spoke without moving his lips. "This is the first loop. Remember it well."
The vision shattered.
Kaelen collapsed to his knees, blood dripping from his nose. Time. Space. Matter. All had bent around him.
And he understood:
Hollowrest wasn't a ruin.
It was a scar. A memory left behind by another version of himself. A loop in time.
He wasn't just walking toward destiny.
He was retracing it.
Night fell. Kaelen sat within the broken tower, eyes closed, mind alight.
He remembered now pieces of what was done to him in the facility.
He was not born with power.
He was forged in it.
And someone had done it before.
Somewhere in the distance, a bell rang.
The first of the Riftborn had found his trail.
Kaelen opened his eyes.
Let them come.
He was ready to begin.