The Reaping Sky
Kael dreamed of fire—but this time, he was the fire.
He flew through ash-covered skies, over burning fields, his body a silhouette of flame and fury. Below, thousands screamed—some in fear, others in worship. He heard Malrekh's voice, vast and cold, whispering through the smoke:
> "See what you will become…"
Kael snapped awake.
The Seal of Embers pulsed against his chest like a second heart.
---
They camped beside the shattered ruins of Velgrath for a day to recover.
The claiming of the Seal had taken a toll on Kael. His skin bore glowing marks, faint and shifting. At times, heat shimmered around him even when he stood still. At others, his breath froze midair despite the warmth.
He was no longer fully human.
Not yet a demon.
But something in between.
---
Mira watched him closely.
"You've changed."
Kael nodded, exhausted. "I feel like I'm being torn in two directions."
Mira placed her hand gently on his shoulder. "You are. The Seal of Embers awakens the blood of the ancient ones—the First Hunters. It's both a gift… and a curse."
Marek stepped into the firelight, blade strapped to his back.
"And now every Eye in the Abyss knows where you are."
---
By morning, they were moving again.
The next destination came from Mira's reading of the scroll they recovered in the Bone Orchard—a cursed sky-temple known as Aerosthal, where the air itself burned and time moved strangely. The Reaping Sky, the scroll called it. A place where angels had died, and demons had drunk their wings.
Kael walked at the head of the group. With each step, the weight of the Seal grew heavier.
He didn't speak much.
But inside, something was waking.
---
Two days later, they stood at the base of Aerosthal.
It rose like a tower of bone and obsidian, its top lost in the clouds. Black feathers littered the ground. The wind screamed constantly, though there was no storm.
Tana crossed herself. "This place should not exist."
Mira whispered, "It doesn't—not completely. This is a wound in the world. A rift left behind from the Godfall."
Kael stepped forward.
The Seal on his chest glowed.
And the gate opened.
---
Inside, Aerosthal defied physics.
Stairs spiraled sideways. Rooms folded inward. Gravity bent. They passed through empty cathedral halls where floating statues wept black tears, and archways that led to the same room over and over, each time more decayed.
Then they reached the Hall of Wings.
Hundreds of angelic skeletons hung suspended in air—stripped of flesh, each spine broken. Their wings were missing.
Kael clenched his jaw. "Who did this?"
A voice answered.
> "We did."
The air shimmered—and from the shadows stepped six creatures, each cloaked in wind and shadow. Their faces were human-shaped, but empty, eyeless, as if scraped clean.
Mira gasped. "Wind-Eaters."
---
Wind-Eaters were once angels, corrupted by exposure to demon-blood storms. They devoured breath, memory, even identity, leaving only shells behind.
The largest among them pointed at Kael.
> "You carry the flame. You carry the key."
Kael raised his spear. "What key?"
The Wind-Eater spread its arms.
> "The key to the Reaping Sky. The next seal is here. And to claim it, you must walk through death."
Kael didn't flinch.
"I've done that before."
---
The Wind-Eaters attacked in a blur of shrieking wind.
Korrin was pulled off his feet, slammed into a wall, and pinned. Tana's blade lashed out, dragging sparks across empty air. Mira began chanting a protective spell, but one of the creatures whispered near her ear—and she staggered, eyes wide.
Kael didn't hesitate.
He leapt into the air—gravity bending to meet him—and landed atop a floating stair, where the wind was sharp enough to draw blood from his arms.
The Seal burned on his chest, and Aerosthal responded.
The floating skeletons stirred.
Kael reached for the Flame Within.
And then—
He burned.
---
Fire licked across his skin.
Not wild, chaotic fire.
Controlled.
Intentional.
He willed it outward in a ring, forcing the Wind-Eaters back. One shrieked and disintegrated. Another turned to stone mid-air. The remaining fled into the walls.
Mira stumbled to her feet.
"The Seal responded to your will," she whispered.
Kael nodded. "I'm learning."
Then he turned to the center of the Hall of Wings.
There, floating above the altar, was a single black feather—glowing faintly red.
The second Seal.
Kael stepped forward.
---
As his fingers touched it, a vision ripped through his mind.
A battle in the sky. Gods screaming. Malrekh casting a burning sword from heaven. A warrior made of flame catching it.
And a voice:
> "The sky remembers. The seal binds the storm."
The feather burned into Kael's palm.
When the light faded, he was kneeling.
And on his back—
Faint, flickering—
Were wings of ember and smoke.
---
The others stared in stunned silence.
Mira stepped back. "You're not just carrying the flame anymore, Kael."
Marek added, "You're becoming it."
Kael rose slowly, shoulders aching.
"I don't know what's happening to me," he said. "But I can feel it changing. Every seal brings me closer to something…"
Korrin limped forward. "To what?"
Kael looked skyward.
"To whatever Malrekh was afraid of enough to try and turn me."
---
That night, the skie
s above Aerosthal cracked open with lightning.
But Kael didn't tremble.
He stood on the edge of the tower, wings flickering behind him, and whispered:
> "If I'm fire… then let me burn every gate he opens."