Exiled Mage of the Outlands

Rain struck the ruined dome like war drums.

Kael stood beneath the open archway of the sanctuary, shirt half-buttoned, hair damp, the echo of last night still lingering in every aching muscle. The fire inside him had settled—but not stilled. It pulsed now with purpose. With something close to… clarity.

Behind him, Riven stirred beneath the blankets, rising slowly and wrapping herself in her cloak. Her silver hair clung to her neck, skin flushed from sleep. She said nothing as she stepped beside him—but her fingers brushed his briefly, gently, enough to say:

I'm still here.

"We should move soon," she said after a moment.

Kael nodded but didn't look away from the storm.

"I can feel something under the stone," he said. "Not just magic. Memory."

Riven followed his gaze toward the far wall of the sanctuary. Part of it had collapsed, exposing ancient masonry slick with moss and time. Glyphs shimmered faintly behind a layer of rot.

"I saw them glow last night," he continued. "When I… when we…"

He didn't finish the sentence.

He didn't have to.

They cleared the debris together, pushing back vine and rubble until the glyphs beneath emerged in full.

Not just writing.

A mural.

Kael stepped back as it revealed itself fully—a wall-sized depiction of a mage wrapped in living flame, standing atop a circle of roots. His eyes glowed green. A twisting symbol marked his chest, identical to the one now etched into Kael's skin.

His own voice broke the silence.

"That's… me."

Riven touched the wall with a reverent hand. "It's him. A Lifebinder-Prime. The first. The one they erased from all records after the rebellion. But this mural—" she stepped back, eyes wide. "Kael, it's not just a record. It's a warning."

He stared at the name carved beneath the figure.

KAL'VEYR.

The air around them shifted.

Rain fell harder.

Kael reached out and placed his palm against the name. The glyph beneath his skin lit up—green light dancing down his arm like wildfire.

Pain struck—not physical.

Memory.

He saw images not his own:

Forests burning in rings.

A woman of water sobbing over charred children.

A throne of roots torn from the earth.

A circle of robed mages casting a boy—him—into flame.

And a woman's voice screaming a name that wasn't quite his—

"Kal'Veyr!"

Kael staggered back.

Riven caught him before he hit the stone.

His breath came in shallow gasps. "That's not just a name. It's who I was."

"Reincarnation?" Riven asked, stunned.

"Or possession," Kael said grimly. "Or destiny."

They stared at the mural again.

The figure's eyes seemed to follow them.

Riven touched his face. "You're not a prophecy. You're a person."

Kael swallowed. "Then why do I remember a woman screaming that name like her world ended when I burned?"

Her thumb brushed his jaw. "Whoever she was… she's not the one you share a fire with now."

Kael's throat tightened.

"I don't want to become him."

"Then don't."

"What if I already am?"

"Then fight it," Riven said, her voice low. Fierce. "Not with spells. With us."

Thunder cracked in the distance.

Kael looked at the mural one last time before pulling Riven close.

He kissed her—not to claim her.

To ground himself.

To remember who he was now.