Kael had never run this far in his life.
His lungs burned, his legs trembled, and each breath tasted like smoke and frost. The snow was thicker now—no longer delicate flakes, but a storm, an avalanche of white that blanketed the land and made every step a gamble. His boots sank deep, and his knees screamed with every motion.
Still, he ran.
The child—small, impossibly warm—remained swaddled against his chest, tucked beneath the folds of his cloak. She didn't cry. She didn't fuss. Her golden eyes stayed half-closed, as though watching something beyond him, something no grown man could see.
Behind him, the world bled.
The paladins were gone. The ridge was lost. And the hunters still followed.
He'd heard them—footfalls breaking branches, shouted orders in the distance, curses hurled into the wind. He had glimpsed movement through the trees: men with rusted armor and wild eyes, chasing not for justice or loyalty, but for power.
For her.
Kael's vision blurred.
Trees tore at his skin. Roots clawed at his boots. His blade was still at his side, but it felt heavier than ever—useless if they caught him while carrying the baby. He had no food, no fire, no horse. Just snow, fear, and duty.
"Hang on," he whispered, voice raw. "Just a bit more, little one."
She made no sound. But her head tilted toward him slightly, as if listening.
That small gesture alone gave him strength.
He pressed on, deeper into the Vale.
The ghost paths had once been used by smugglers and priests during the rise of the old wars. Hidden trails that curved through hollow hills and under frozen rivers. Few remembered them now. He only knew them because of an old map burned into memory—something he had studied obsessively during his days as a novice, back when the world still believed in learning and not just killing.
He ducked beneath a rotting archway, nearly swallowed by frost. The runes etched in its stone were ancient—warding glyphs long since broken. He whispered a prayer anyway. Old habits.
The wind screamed through the gaps in the rocks. Snow slashed sideways, cutting his cheeks raw.
He kept going.
By the time night fell, Kael had found a hollow in the side of a cliff, just large enough to crawl into. A forgotten tunnel, perhaps, or a cave chewed out by years of storm and ice.
He collapsed inside, the weight of the day crushing him. His muscles screamed in protest as he lay the baby gently against his cloak, wrapping her in dry layers he'd hidden under his armor. Then he pulled off his gloves and touched her cheek.
Still warm. Still glowing faintly. The light of her skin pulsed with a quiet rhythm, like the beat of a soft drum. Kael stared, hypnotized.
She was the calm in the middle of the madness.
"I don't even know your name," he muttered. "But they want you dead. Or worse."
The child blinked. No smile. No cry. Just… serenity.
Kael leaned back against the cave wall, head thudding softly. His armor dug into his ribs. He hadn't eaten in a day. Water came from melting snow. He was alive—but barely.
Still, she was here. That mattered more.
He drifted to sleep in moments.
He awoke to a sound. Crunching. Close.
Kael's eyes snapped open.
He reached for his blade instantly, crawling to shield the child. The faint glow of her body still lit the cave softly.
Outside—movement. Shadows passed the mouth of the cave. Slow. Searching.
He didn't breathe.
A voice: hoarse, male, distant.
"She's close. I saw the light. It came this way."
Another replied, "Keep your voice down, you fool. What if it burns again?"
"They say she can scorch flesh with a look."
Kael narrowed his eyes, every sense razor-sharp now. He could fight two. Maybe three if he struck first.
But the baby—
The hunters paused outside. He heard one draw a blade. Metal hissed against leather.
And then—
The light from the child pulsed brighter. A warm, gentle pulse. Not aggressive. Not violent. But holy.
The men outside gasped.
"Did you see that?" one whispered.
"I don't like this…"
The sound of retreating steps. Hesitant at first, then faster. Then gone.
Kael waited five more minutes before exhaling.
"Thank you," he murmured, looking at the child.
Her eyes were closed again. Still glowing.
She's protecting us, he thought. Or warning them. Maybe both.
The next morning, Kael moved again.
North. Always north.
His fingers were stiff now, blue at the tips. He tore part of his cloak to wrap around his hands. He scavenged berries, melted snow, chewed bark. Survival turned primal. He became a ghost in the woods—moving by moonlight, sleeping in caves and broken ruins, avoiding roads, silencing every noise.
And still they followed.
Sometimes he caught glimpses—banners flapping in the wind, scouts on the cliffs, riders with sharp eyes. Their numbers never dwindled.
The girl was not a rumor anymore.
She was a myth in motion.
And everyone wanted her.
He made it to a broken bridge by the fifth day. Half of it had collapsed into the river below, but the stones still offered a narrow path.
Kael crossed slowly, the child bound to his chest, a hand on the cliff wall.
Halfway across—
An arrow struck stone just beside his head.
He ducked. Another flew past him.
"Down there! It's him!"
Kael turned, eyes wide.
Three hunters on horseback. Bows drawn.
He cursed and ran—no time for caution. The stone beneath his feet cracked with each step, threatening to give way.
Another arrow. Then another.
One grazed his thigh. Fire exploded in his leg, but he kept moving.
The far side of the bridge loomed ahead—an old tower swallowed in ivy. He dove into the archway just as a final arrow clipped his shoulder.
He hit the ground hard. Rolled. Clutched the baby to his chest.
Silence followed.
They didn't pursue into the tower. Not immediately.
He used the precious minutes to bind his leg, teeth clenched through the pain.
The baby blinked up at him. No cry. But her tiny hand curled around his tunic.
He choked back emotion.
"I'm going to die for you, aren't I?" he whispered.
She closed her eyes.
He didn't sleep that night. Just watched the door. Listened.
They came in the morning.
But she burned them.
He didn't know how. He only remembered light. Screams. And then nothing but smoke in the hallway.
When he opened his eyes again, the tower was empty.
The baby slept in his arms. No inkling of what they are in. So beautiful and precious.
Kael looked out the tower window. The mountains were near. Salvation. Or death. He didn't care anymore.
He would keep going.
One step at a time.
For her.