Kaleon followed Lord Darion, fists clenched so tight his nails dug into his palms. His thoughts were a storm, violent and dark, swirling in his chest as if a tide threatened to drown him from within. The pressure in his ribs grew with every step, as if the walls of Skarnhold itself were pressing in on him. The shadows of the corridors stretched long, making the distance between them seem endless.
His father, Lord Darion, marched ahead, his steps echoing with a heavy finality. The lord did not speak, did not even glance back, but Kaleon could feel the weight of his presence, the silence between them thick and suffocating.
When they reached the upper gallery, where the towering windows of Skarnhold looked out across the land, Kaleon could no longer hold the words at bay.
"Father," he said, his voice low but sharp, catching the lord's attention for the first time since they'd entered the hall.
Darion halted, his face unreadable in the half-light. His back was still straight, shoulders squared, as though he were the embodiment of the Skarnhold lineage itself—unyielding and stern.
"You have been given the truth," Lord Darion responded, his tone clipped and matter-of-fact.
Kaleon shook his head, frustration burning in his chest. "No," he snapped, his voice louder now. "I have been given fear. Orders. Half-whispered warnings of madness and ruin." He stepped forward, his eyes blazing with an intensity that mirrored the flames of the brazier beneath Skarnhold. "You speak of flames and bloodlines, but you hide the one thing that matters."
Darion's mouth tightened into a hard line, his eyes narrowing with a coldness Kaleon had seen too many times before. "Mind your tongue," he warned, his voice low, a quiet threat in the air.
Kaleon did not back down. He had too much burning inside him to retreat now. "There are stories," he said, his words coming faster, fueled by the anger and confusion twisting inside him. "Legends—of a gate beneath Skarnhold. A place sealed by blood and fire. The elders whisper of the Ash Crown, of a power too great to wield. I have seen things, Father. Things that call to that truth."
For a moment, Darion was silent, his eyes betraying nothing. Then his face darkened further, his jaw clenching.
"You will speak no more of this," he said, voice like stone cracking under pressure. "You will not chase ghosts through the halls of your ancestors."
Kaleon's breath hitched in his throat. His heart pounded against his ribs, desperate to be heard, to be understood. "Why?" he demanded, his voice breaking through the silence, sharp as a blade. "Why bury the past in ash? Why build walls of silence around the truth? What are you so afraid of?"
Darion's eyes flickered—not with anger, but something colder, something deeper. The weight of centuries seemed to hang in the air, unspoken but tangible.
"For your safety," he said, his voice barely a whisper, yet laden with the gravity of an unspoken promise. "And for the House."
Kaleon's hands clenched at his sides, the muscles in his arms straining. His teeth ground together as he fought against the storm rising within him. He could feel the fire in his blood, the burning questions that refused to be extinguished.
Darion turned fully now, the lordly mantle of his office settling onto his broad shoulders once more, the finality in his posture unmistakable. "From this day forth," he continued, his voice carrying down the long, echoing corridor, "you are confined to the Inner Keep. You will answer only to me or the council. You will not leave without escort. You will not speak of visions, or flames, or crowns. Do so—and you will answer for it."
The words hit Kaleon like a physical blow. He staggered back a step, a sharp gasp escaping him as the full weight of his father's decree settled upon him. A prisoner. In his own home.
Across the hall, a figure shifted. Draven, his second-eldest brother, emerged from the shadows, his brow furrowed, mouth drawn into a tight line. He said nothing, but his eyes flickered with something close to an apology.
Another betrayal. Another silence.
Lord Darion turned without another word, his footsteps receding like distant drums of war, his cloak sweeping the stone floor behind him. The silence was overwhelming, deafening.
Kaleon stood alone beneath the stone gaze of the Skarn lords who had come before him. Their statues loomed above, cold and unmoved, immortal in their unyielding stance. Their eyes seemed to watch him with the weight of history, and he felt himself small beneath their gaze.
The flames inside him twisted, whispering rebellion, urging him to defy, to rise against the chains that bound him to this legacy of silence and secrecy. But the walls of Skarnhold closed in around him, and he knew that the path he had once believed was his would now be far more treacherous than he had ever imagined.
"Kaleon!" A voice hissed from the side passage, snapping him out of his spiraling thoughts.
He turned quickly, the fire inside still simmering, only to find Serenya emerging from the shadows. Her cloak was wrapped tight against the chill, her eyes bright with urgency as she rushed toward him.
She reached him and placed a gentle hand on his sleeve, her touch warm against the cold stone of the halls. "Are you all right?" she asked softly, searching his face for any sign of the turmoil he had been hiding.
Kaleon gave a bitter, hollow smile. "No," he said, his voice cracked and raw. "But when has that ever stopped us?"
Serenya squeezed his hand in reassurance, her eyes filled with unspoken understanding. "We'll find the truth," she whispered, her words a quiet promise. "Together."
For the first time that day, Kaleon felt the faintest ember of hope stir within him. But even as he grasped onto it, he knew that hope was fragile, like a candle flickering in the wind. It would not be enough. Not yet. Not while the secrets of Skarnhold slept beneath stone and flame.
The chambers of Skarnhold felt colder now, the walls closing in around him, even though the fire crackled low in the hearth. Kaleon trudged back to his rooms, his mind still swirling with his father's words, with the finality of Darion's decree. The weight of it pressed down on him, crushing him with the realization that his life had just been irrevocably altered.
As he reached the door to his chambers, the heavy wooden door creaked open. Inside, the familiar warmth of the room greeted him, but it felt hollow now, as if the walls themselves had taken on the weight of his burden.
Theo was there, waiting for him. His best friend, the one person who had always been by his side, who understood him better than anyone else.
Theo looked up from where he sat by the fire, his expression unreadable, but his eyes flickered with concern as he took in Kaleon's face.
"Did he really do it?" Theo asked, his voice low, knowing the answer but seeking the confirmation from Kaleon's own lips.
Kaleon nodded, his breath sharp and ragged. He stepped into the room, moving to the chair near the hearth, where he sank down with a defeated sigh. His hands trembled, the anger still burning beneath the surface, but there was nothing left to fight against.
"He… He confined me, Theo. Like an eight-year-old child. In my own home." Kaleon's voice cracked, the bitter sting of betrayal making his words feel hollow. "I thought… I thought I could make him see, that I could show him the truth of it all. But instead, I'm nothing more than a prisoner, locked away in the inner keep."
Theo stood up, his own frustration mirroring Kaleon's, but he moved toward his friend, taking a seat beside him. "You're not a prisoner," he said quietly, his voice steady. "You're not alone in this."
Kaleon let out a shaky breath, his chest tight with the weight of it all. "I feel alone, Theo. I feel like the walls of Skarnhold are closing in around me, like everything I've ever known is slipping away, and there's nothing I can do to stop it."
Theo's hand landed on his shoulder, firm and reassuring. "We'll figure it out. You're not alone, Kaleon. You never have been. We'll find a way to get to the truth, no matter what."
Kaleon closed his eyes, his heart aching as the weight of everything finally broke free. The tears came, hot and fierce, and for the first time in what felt like years, he allowed himself to cry. He cried for the burden of his bloodline, for the secrets he would never understand, and for the life that had been stolen from him by those who were supposed to protect him.
Theo didn't speak, didn't try to stop him. He simply sat there, letting his friend lean on him, offering the silent support that Kaleon had always given in return.
After a long while, the door to the room opened again, this time with the sound of the soft shuffle of footsteps.
It was his siblings.
Lysera, the eldest sister, was the first to step inside. Her eyes were soft with concern, her expression one of quiet understanding. Draven followed her, his face troubled, but the anger had subsided into something gentler now. Malric and Elryn were behind them, both of them looking up at Kaleon, their faces filled with concern.
"Kaleon," Lysera said gently, moving toward him. "We heard what happened. We came to see if you were all right."
He looked up at them, his heart heavy with the knowledge that they were the only ones who had not abandoned him.
They all stood there for a moment, each of them unsure of how to proceed, but it was Vaelira, the youngest, who moved first.
She came to Kaleon's side, her small arms wrapping around his neck, and hugged him tightly. Malric and Elryn joined in, offering their own small gestures of comfort.
"Don't cry, Kaleon," Malric said softly, his voice thick with emotion. "We're here for you. We'll always be here for you."
Elryn's small hands gently patted his back, her soft voice whispering, "You're strong, Kaleon. You'll get through this."
Kaleon held them all close, feeling the warmth of his siblings around him, the love that had never wavered even when the world seemed against him. For the first time that night, Kaleon allowed himself to feel something other than fear, anger, or doubt.
It was a quiet, fragile hope. But it was enough. Enough to make him believe that even in the darkest moments, he was not truly alone.
"So what are you gonna do now?" asked Draven, he was more than just concerned.
"I don't know brother, I am all tired and my thoughts are hazy—might rest now." replied Kaleon.
"Everyone—let's leave let him rest. It was quite a day. Theo please stay beside him as long as you can." said Therion looking at Theo with gentle eyes.
"Ofco... Ofcourse I will do it my lord, no need to be concerned." replied Theo all flustered.
[Everyone leaves and silence fill the room]