The first thing Kaelen noticed upon waking was the silence.
It was not the heavy, suffocating stillness of the slums, where the absence of sound meant something lurked in the darkness, waiting to strike. No, this silence was different, peaceful, almost reverent, broken only by the faint whisper of wind through the high-arched windows and the rhythmic chants of distant voices in solemn prayer.
For the first time in years, Kaelen had slept soundly. No nightmares clawed at his mind, no restless instincts forced him awake before dawn. He lay still for a moment, allowing the unfamiliar sensation of security to settle before pushing himself upright. The room was small but clean, adorned with carved wooden furnishings and a single window that allowed the morning light to spill inside.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and pressed his feet against the cool stone floor. The aches from the night before still lingered, but they were dull, numbed by the warmth of the Sanctuary's influence. He flexed his fingers, testing for stiffness, before rising to his feet.
A soft knock at the door broke his thoughts. He turned sharply, hand instinctively reaching for a weapon that wasn't there. His blades had been taken upon entering the Sanctuary, another reminder that he was at the mercy of this place and its enigmatic guardians.
The door creaked open, revealing Rina standing in the hallway. Her expression was unreadable, but the tiredness in her eyes mirrored his own.
"Morning," she said simply.
Kaelen nodded. "You sleep?"
"Well enough. Not sure if I'm rested or just overwhelmed." She glanced past him into the modest room. "We should move. The Saints have summoned us."
Kaelen frowned. "For what?"
"They didn't say." Rina folded her arms. "But something tells me they're not just offering us breakfast and a warm farewell."
Kaelen exhaled, running a hand through his unkempt hair. "Fine. Let's see what they want."
The two of them made their way through the Sanctuary's winding corridors, the air thick with the scent of incense and the distant hum of whispered prayers. The architecture was unlike anything Kaelen had ever seen, elegant yet imposing, as if the walls themselves held centuries of untold stories. Every step they took felt heavier, like they were being watched by unseen eyes.
Eventually, they were led into a vast chamber, its domed ceiling painted with constellations that glowed faintly in the dim candlelight. At the centre stood a semicircle of robed figures, their faces hidden beneath silver-embroidered hoods. The one standing at the forefront took a step forward, revealing piercing violet eyes that shimmered like amethysts.
"Kaelen Duskbane," the figure intoned, voice neither male nor female but something in between, resonating with an unnatural clarity. "Rina Aelis. You have entered the Sanctuary seeking refuge. But refuge is not freely given. It must be earned."
Kaelen's jaw tightened. "And how exactly do we earn it?"
The robed figure raised a hand, and the chamber darkened. The constellations on the ceiling pulsed, shifting into new formations, forming symbols Kaelen did not recognize. A gust of unseen wind swept through the hall, carrying with it whispers that scraped against the edges of his consciousness.
"There is more to you than you understand," the figure continued. "The Sanctuary does not merely shelter the lost, it finds those with purpose. Those whose fates are intertwined with something greater."
Kaelen exchanged a glance with Rina, unease creeping into his gut. He had spent his entire life avoiding fate, surviving by carving his own path through the chaos. The idea that something greater had been pulling at his existence unsettled him more than he cared to admit.
The figure extended their hand, palm facing upward. From the void of their robes, a small object materialized, an ornate medallion etched with intertwining patterns of light and shadow. It pulsed with a faint energy, resonating in time with the shifting constellations above.
"This is your first test," the figure said. "Hold the medallion. If you are truly meant to be here, it will reveal your path."
Kaelen hesitated. He had learned long ago that nothing in this world came without consequence. Yet, despite his instincts screaming at him to walk away, something deep within urged him forward. Slowly, cautiously, he reached out.
The moment his fingers brushed the medallion, the world around him shattered.
Light and shadow exploded outward, engulfing his vision in a maelstrom of energy. He felt himself pulled into the void, weightless and suspended between two opposing forces. Images flashed before him, distant, unclear, yet undeniably real. A battlefield drenched in blood and flame. A throne of obsidian, crumbling beneath an unseen force. A dragon wreathed in celestial fire, its gaze burning into his soul.
Then, a whisper. Soft. Familiar.
"You were never meant to be ordinary."
Kaelen gasped, his breath ragged as he stumbled backward. The medallion fell from his grasp, clattering against the stone floor. The robed figures watched in silence, their expressions unreadable beneath their hoods.
Rina caught his arm, steadying him. "Kaelen?"
He swallowed hard, his pulse pounding in his ears. The visions had faded, but the weight of them remained, pressing against his very being. He had felt something awaken, something buried deep, waiting for this moment.
The lead figure nodded. "It is as we feared."
Kaelen's hands curled into fists. "Feared?"
"You are a harbinger of change," the figure said. "And change, whether for light or shadow, always comes at a cost."
Kaelen exhaled sharply. He wasn't sure what terrified him more, the unknown power stirring within him, or the fact that, for the first time in his life, he had no idea what came next.
And something told him that was exactly what the Saints had intended.