CHAPTER 30: LOST COMPASS

Kaelen’s POV

The pain in Kaelen’s chest was finally fading to a dull ache instead of the sharp, crushing sensation that had stolen his breath. He sat on Serenya’s couch, the healing mixture warming his stomach, and tried to make sense of everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours.

His father was dead.

The words still didn’t feel real. Lord Valerius, the man who had banished him, who had called him a failure, who had finally...in those last moments...tried to protect him. Gone. Burned by Lyren’s fire while trying to shield Kaelen from his stepbrother’s rage.

Kaelen looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers. The silver light that usually danced around them when he touched Aether was gone, leaving only pale skin and the faint tremor of exhaustion. Without his magic, he felt incomplete. Vulnerable.

"How are you feeling?" Tiara asked, settling into a chair across from him.

"Better," Kaelen admitted. "The pain is going away." He paused, then added quietly, "Physically, at least."

Echo whined softly, pressing his massive head against Kaelen’s leg. The wolf had refused to leave his side since they arrived, as if he could sense his master’s grief.

"I’m sorry about your father," Joanna said from her position by the window. She was keeping watch, her eyes scanning the street beyond Serenya’s wards. "I know your relationship was complicated, but still..."

"He tried to save me," Kaelen said, his voice rough. "At the end, he threw himself in front of Lyren’s fire. Why would he do that after everything?"

"Because he was your father," Tiara said gently. "Whatever mistakes he made, whatever lies he told, that was still true."

Kaelen felt tears burning behind his eyes but refused to let them fall. He couldn’t afford to break down now. Not when he was a wanted criminal, not when three women had risked everything to save him, not when he had no idea what to do next.

Serenya came in with a tray of tea and simple food. "Your body is still reeling from the suppression chains," she said softly. "The pain may fade for a while, but it will return in waves until your Aether stabilizes."

Kaelen shook his head, frustration mixing with his grief. "It feels like it’s eating me alive from the inside. I can’t breathe when it hits. And I don’t know how long I can fight like this." His hands clenched into fists. "Every time I think it’s easing, the pain comes back worse."

The words came out harsh, angry. He had endured wounds before, torture before, but this constant gnawing ache...the reminder of what had been stolen from him...was breaking him down in ways he didn’t want to admit.

And he had absolutely no way to stop it.

"We’re fugitives now," Kaelen continued, the reality of their situation hitting him fully. "All of us. The Conclave will be searching for us. And I’m barely able to stand without wanting to scream."

"They’ve left you weak, but not broken," Tiara said firmly. "Your Aether will return."

"They’ve left me useless," Kaelen replied bitterly. He stood abruptly, needing to move despite his exhaustion. "Even if my Aether comes back, what good am I like this? Every step feels like knives in my chest. And Lyren...he gets everything. The house, the title, the respect...while Father is dead and I’m blamed for it."

The anger felt good. Better than the grief that threatened to drown him. Better than the helplessness of not knowing how to make the pain stop.

"Kaelen," Joanna said carefully. "I understand you’re upset, but..."

"Upset?" The word exploded from him. "My stepbrother murdered our father and framed me for it. I was sentenced to death by a council that didn’t care about the truth. My magic is blocked, leaving me defenseless. And every breath I take feels like I’m being ripped apart from the inside." His voice cracked. "How am I supposed to keep going like this?"

Silence filled the room. Echo pressed closer, his warm weight grounding. Kaelen realized he was breathing hard, his chest tight with emotions that had nothing to do with the suppression chains.

"I’m sorry," he said quietly. "You all risked everything to save me, and here I am falling apart."

"You just lost your father," Serenya said. There was no pity in her voice, just a statement of fact. "You’re allowed to feel whatever you’re feeling."

"But we don’t have time for me to feel it," Kaelen countered. "The Conclave is hunting us. Lyren is consolidating his power. And I’m stuck here, useless, with no magic and no plan."

"Your magic will return," Tiara assured him. "The suppression effect is already fading. By tomorrow, you should have full access to your Aether again."

"And then what?" Kaelen asked. "What good is Aether magic when my body feels like it’s tearing itself apart? I don’t even know if I can fight with this kind of pain."

He sank back onto the couch, suddenly exhausted. The healing mixture had helped with the physical ache, but it couldn’t touch the confusion and grief churning inside him.

"We’ll figure it out," Joanna said. "Together. That’s why we came for you...not just to save you, but to help you."

"Why?" The question came out more plaintive than Kaelen intended.

"Because stopping Lyren matters. Because ending the Blight matters. And because your survival matters," Joanna said firmly. "You’re not alone in this anymore."

Serenya had been quiet, watching him with those ancient eyes. Now she spoke. "Your father’s death was a wound, Kaelen. And wounds don’t heal in a day. But you are not broken. Not yet. As long as you can still stand, there is hope."

Kaelen thought about that. Hope felt distant, almost laughable. What if the pain never went away? What if he could never fight again? What if his Aether returned but his body failed him anyway?

"Then at least I’ll know where I stand," he said finally. "I’m tired of pretending I’m fine. If I can’t fight, then I’ll face that. But I need to know."

Echo huffed in agreement, his tail thumping once against the floor.

Joanna turned from the window. "I’ll reach out to my contact tonight. See what I can learn about how far the Conclave’s search has spread. It might buy us a day or two."

"And I’ll strengthen the wards," Serenya said. "Buy us as much time as possible."

Kaelen looked at these three women who had chosen to stand with him. Tiara, seeking redemption for years of forced silence. Joanna, choosing justice over safety. Serenya, abandoning twenty years of neutrality for reasons she hadn’t fully explained.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "I know I keep saying it, but I mean it. You’ve all sacrificed so much."

"We chose this," Joanna replied. "Just like you’re choosing to keep fighting despite everything."

The pain in Kaelen’s chest spiked suddenly, sharp enough to make him double over with a hiss. Tiara was at his side instantly, steadying him, while Serenya pushed another cup of the bitter mixture into his hands. He forced it down, the liquid burning but dulling the worst of the ache.

His father was dead. His stepbrother had betrayed him. He was wanted for murder. And every breath was agony.

But he was alive. He had allies. And he had a real purpose beyond just survival.

Stop Lyren. End the Blight.

It wasn’t much of a plan. But it was a start.

A while later, exhaustion finally dragged Kaelen down onto the couch cushions. The voices of the others blurred into soft murmurs, Echo’s steady warmth anchoring him. He must have dozed, because when he opened his eyes again, the room was dimmer, candles burned lower, and Joanna was gone.

Kaelen sat up slowly, wincing as the ache in his chest clawed through him again. He rubbed his sternum, willing it to ease, then glanced around. Tiara was curled up in a chair with her eyes closed, though her hand still rested on the hilt of her blade, even in sleep.

He pushed himself to his feet. The quiet pressed on him, restless. That was when he noticed the faint glow spilling from beneath the study door.

Serenya.

Curiosity drew him forward. He pushed the door open just enough to slip inside and found her standing before a massive map stretched across the wall. Not parchment, but living vellum threaded with silver veins, pulsing faintly with Aether.

Kaelen’s breath caught. Black stains spread across the map like rot, thick tendrils unfurling from the southern marshlands and creeping ever outward.

"The Blight..." he whispered.

Serenya didn’t turn. Her voice was low, almost reverent in its dread. "It’s advancing faster than even I feared. Every day it spreads farther. Villages swallowed. Forests turned to ash. The Conclave doesn’t want to admit it, but soon it will touch every border."

Kaelen moved closer, staring at the creeping dark. The sight made his stomach knot tighter than his pain ever could. "How far has it already reached?"

"Too far," Serenya said softly. "By the time most realize the danger, it will be at their gates. And then it will be too late."

Kaelen clenched his fists. His body might be weak, his chest burning, but the sight of that spreading darkness ignited something fierce inside him. Lyren’s betrayal, his father’s death...none of it mattered if the entire world fell to this corruption.