Chronicles of the Regressor - Chapter 13

Chapter 13 - The Scarred Path Home

The frantic gallop through the moonlit night was a blur of pain and adrenaline for Kaelen. His side throbbed relentlessly, the reopened wound gushing blood, and the dark taint of Varkos's magic pulsed within him, a cold fire that threatened to consume his very core. He clung to his horse's mane, his vision blurring at the edges, only the burning image of Borin's defiant face, and the desperate need to protect his friends, keeping him conscious.

Borin, though free, was clearly in agony. He swayed in his saddle, his bruised face pale, his breath ragged. Seraphina and Lyra Whisperwind rode close, their faces grim, their eyes constantly scanning the shadows for pursuit. The sounds of Drakon's Maw, the blaring alarms, the shouts of enraged Vorlag soldiers, slowly faded behind them, replaced by the chilling silence of the wilderness.

"Kaelen, you're bleeding too much!" Seraphina cried, her voice laced with panic, seeing the dark stain spreading rapidly across his tunic. "We need to stop! You'll bleed out!"

"No," Kaelen gasped, forcing the word out, his voice a raw croak. "Keep moving. They'll send trackers. We need distance." He knew the eastern forests were still crawling with Vorlag patrols, especially after such a brazen infiltration. Stopping now would be suicide.

Lyra Whisperwind, ever practical, urged her horse closer. "He's right, Sera. We cannot stop. But Kaelen, can you hold on? Your Aura… it's flickering. The dark magic is consuming it."

Kaelen gritted his teeth, forcing a surge of his Aura, a desperate act of will that momentarily pushed back the encroaching darkness, but left him even more drained. "I'll hold. Just… keep moving."

They rode for hours, pushing their horses to their limits, until the first faint streaks of dawn appeared on the horizon. Only then, when they were miles from Drakon's Maw and the sounds of pursuit had truly vanished, did Kaelen finally allow them to stop. He slid from his saddle, his legs giving out beneath him, collapsing onto the damp earth.

Seraphina was immediately at his side, her hands glowing with healing mana, but her spells seemed to struggle against the dark corruption in his wound. "It's… it's fighting my magic, Kaelen! I can't close it properly! The dark taint is too strong!" Her face was etched with fear.

Lyra Whisperwind knelt beside him, her elven senses probing his Aura. "The dark magic has fused with his own, Sera. It's a part of him now. Your healing struggles because it's trying to purge what has become integrated. We need a different approach. Something to seal it, not remove it, until he can reach proper healers in the capital." She quickly gathered herbs, crushing them into a poultice, her movements swift and precise. "This will staunch the bleeding and slow the spread of the corruption, but it will not remove it."

Borin, despite his own injuries, dragged himself over, his face pale but his eyes filled with concern. "Kaelen… you saved me. You actually came. I thought… I thought I was done for." His voice was hoarse, raw with emotion.

"We don't leave family behind," Kaelen rasped, managing a weak smile, a flicker of his old self. "How are your injuries, Borin?"

"Bruised, battered, but still breathing," Borin replied, flexing his arm, wincing. "My shield arm is a mess, but it'll heal. Thanks to you." He looked at Kaelen's wound, his brow furrowed. "But you… that looks bad."

The journey back was slow and arduous. Kaelen was constantly on the edge of consciousness, his body wracked with pain and fever. The dark taint in his Aura made him restless, plagued by nightmares of Varkos, of his past life's failures. Seraphina and Lyra Whisperwind took turns watching over him, applying poultices, and forcing him to drink water and meager rations. Borin, despite his own pain, insisted on riding point, his massive frame a protective presence, his axe ready.

They avoided all major roads, traversing hidden paths and dense wilderness, relying entirely on Lyra Whisperwind's unparalleled knowledge of the land. They encountered several Vorlag patrols, but Kaelen's enhanced senses, amplified by the dark taint, allowed him to detect them before they were seen, enabling them to bypass or silently neutralize threats. It was a grim, silent testament to the new, dangerous capabilities Kaelen now possessed.

After three grueling days, they finally reached the outskirts of the capital, exhausted but alive. The sight of the gleaming white spires, a beacon of home, brought a wave of profound relief, mixed with a chilling dread of the reports they would have to deliver.

They rode directly to the Academy, bypassing the main gates, using a discreet entrance known only to high-ranking officials. The moment they dismounted, Kaelen swayed, his legs giving out. Seraphina caught him, her face pale.

"He needs immediate attention!" Seraphina yelled to the few Academy guards who recognized them. "Get the Grand Archmage! And Lyra Valerius!"

News of their return, and Kaelen's critical condition, spread like wildfire. Within minutes, the Grand Archmage, his face etched with concern, arrived, followed by Kaelen's sister, Lyra, her eyes wide with shock and fear.

"Kaelen! What happened?" Lyra cried, rushing to his side, her healing Aura flaring instinctively. But like Seraphina, her magic recoiled from the dark taint. "It's… it's corrupted! I can't heal it directly!"

The Grand Archmage knelt, his ancient eyes piercing, his own powerful Aura probing Kaelen's. He gasped, his face paling further. "This is… Varkos's signature. Pure, unadulterated dark magic. It has merged with his own Aura. He is gravely afflicted."

Kaelen, drifting in and out of consciousness, felt the Grand Archmage's powerful Aura, a vast, ancient presence that tried to cleanse the dark taint, but even it struggled, meeting resistance.

He was immediately moved to the Academy's most secure infirmary, a place reserved for the most grievous magical injuries. He spent days in a semi-conscious state, his body wracked by fever, his mind battling the insidious corruption. His sister Lyra, working tirelessly with the Grand Archmage, tried every known counter-spell, every ancient ritual, to purge the dark magic, but it clung to him, a symbiotic parasite.

"We can't remove it, Your Majesty," the Grand Archmage reported to King Theron II, who had visited Kaelen's bedside, his face grim. "It has become part of his very essence. It amplifies his Aura, yes, but it also drains him, and could eventually consume him. He will live, but he will never be the same. He is… scarred, fundamentally altered."

The King looked at Kaelen, his face a mask of concern. "A heavy price for his bravery."

Princess Aurelia, who rarely left Kaelen's side, wept silently. "He saved Borin. He saved us from that trap. He is a hero."

When Kaelen finally awoke, truly lucid, the fever broken, the pain dulled to a persistent ache, he felt the dark taint in his Aura more clearly than ever. It was a part of him, a cold, powerful current that flowed alongside his own. He also felt a profound exhaustion, a constant weariness that settled deep in his bones.

His first clear thought was of Borin. "Borin?" he rasped.

Borin, though still recovering from his own injuries, was brought to his bedside. He looked much better, though his shield arm was still heavily bandaged. "Kaelen! You're awake! You had us worried, you fool!" He grinned, a genuine, relieved smile. "They tried to break me, Kaelen. But I held. I knew you'd come."

Kaelen felt a surge of relief, a warmth that countered the coldness within him. "You're safe. That's all that matters."

Seraphina and Lyra Whisperwind were also there, their relief evident. "We reported everything, Kaelen," Seraphina said, her voice softer than usual. "The King knows about Varkos's trap, about the convoy. He's furious."

"And your report on Varkos's presence, and his abilities, was invaluable," Lyra Whisperwind added. "It confirms our fears. He is indeed a formidable opponent."

Kaelen was then summoned to a private debriefing with the King, General Valerius, and Princess Aurelia. He recounted the mission in detail, omitting nothing, including his direct confrontation with Varkos and the commander's chilling insight into his "visions" and the dark taint.

"He believes my Aura is being corrupted," Kaelen explained, his voice flat. "He thinks I'm becoming like him. He sees me as a potential tool, or a future ally."

General Valerius looked grim. "A dangerous misconception. But one we can perhaps exploit."

"Indeed," King Theron II mused. "If Varkos believes you are compromised, he may underestimate your loyalty, and your true intentions. This could be a double-edged sword, Kaelen. It marks you, but it also gives you a unique advantage."

Kaelen nodded. "I understand, Your Majesty. I will use it. But the eastern front… what is the situation?"

General Valerius sighed. "Grim. We are holding, but barely. The loss of the siege equipment means we cannot push. It's a war of attrition, as you predicted. Casualties are mounting. And Varkos's forces are relentless."

"We need a new strategy," Princess Aurelia stated, her gaze firm. "We cannot win this war by simply defending. We need to strike at Vorlag's heart. Disrupt their command. Cut off their supplies. Create chaos behind their lines."

Kaelen's eyes met hers. This was the exact path he had always envisioned. "The special operations unit. My 'Silent Blades.' We are ready, Your Highness. We can strike where they least expect it."

The King looked at Kaelen, then at his general. "Kaelen Valerius, your recovery will be paramount. But once you are fully capable, your unit will be Eldoria's spear in the dark. Your mission will be to destabilize Vorlag's war machine from within. You will be given unprecedented authority. But know this: the risks will be immense. You will operate deep in enemy territory, often without support. And your unique condition… it may be a weapon, but it is also a vulnerability."

"I understand, Your Majesty," Kaelen replied, a grim determination hardening his features. He felt the cold hum of the dark taint within him, a constant reminder of the price he had paid, and the price he was willing to continue paying. Borin was safe, but the war was far from over. Eldoria was still bleeding. And Varkos was still out there.

His path was now clear. He was no longer just fighting to prevent a future; he was fighting to reclaim a present, to avenge his friends, to save his kingdom. He was Kaelen, the regressor, the scarred blade, forged in loss, ready to plunge into the heart of the gathering storm. The true war, the one that would test his very soul, was about to begin.