Kael knelt in the blood-soaked dirt, Mira's body cradled in his arms.
The battlefield was silent.
Not because the fighting had stopped.
Because the Stormblade had *ended* it.
Bodies littered the ground—soldiers torn apart by lightning, their armor melted, their flesh charred. The air reeked of ozone and burning meat.
Commander Rykel was gone. Vanished in the chaos.
*Coward.*
The Stormblade pulsed inside Kael, its voice a dark caress.
*"You see now, don't you? What you *are*?"*
Kael didn't answer. His hands shook as he closed Mira's eyes.
A shadow fell over him.
Lysara.
Her face was pale, her own wounds barely bandaged. She didn't speak. She didn't have to.
Her eyes said it all.
*What have you done?*
Kael's voice was hollow. "They killed her."
Lysara swallowed. "I know."
"I should have been faster."
"You couldn't have—"
"I *should* have."
The Stormblade snarled.
*"You want revenge? Then *take* it."*
Kael's fingers curled around the silver key Mira had given him.
*"The key opens *you.*"*
What the hell did that mean?
Then—
A hand gripped his shoulder.
Sera.
Her expression was grim. "We need to move. The Empire will send more."
Kael didn't look at her. "Let them come."
Sera's grip tightened. "This isn't a fight you can win alone."**
The Stormblade laughed.
*"Oh, but it is."*
Kael