"Before the first god named himself, something bound him. That something was not power, but purpose. The first Chain."—Carving found beneath the Obsidian Well, forbidden vaults of Rhundr
Kael stands before the Mirror of Reverence, a relic unearthed during the restoration of the Ash Vault. It does not reflect the present, but the truest path one fears to walk.
When Kael touches it, the mirror turns to flame, and a single gate of black stone rises behind him—etched with a symbol even the gods refuse to name:
"This is the Gate of Ultara," whispers Aetheros. "Beyond it lies the Chain of Veyndar, god of binding. None who entered have ever left whole."
Kael steps through.
And the world vanishes.
He finds himself in a realm of suspended time—a space woven from silver links and broken stars. Planets dangle from tethers. Names hang like rusted bells, ringing only when remembered.
In the center is a figure seated on an empty throne of links: Veyndar, the God of Chains, the Warden of Fate.
He does not speak. His eyes are blindfolded with woven fate. His arms are bound—but the bindings are his own.
Kael steps forward.
"I've come to break your chains."
A rusted smile cuts across the god's face.
"And in doing so, you will forge your own."
Veyndar offers Kael a deal: in exchange for the power to unbind divine law, Kael must accept a fate even the gods dared not write.
The deal comes with a revelation: Kael's birth was never natural. He was born not of prophecy, but as a divine loophole, a soul unchained to the gods' scrolls of destiny.
"You are not Flameborne," Veyndar says. "You are Chainbroken. That is why the gods fear you. You are the choice they did not permit."
To accept the deal, Kael must bind part of himself—his own memory of fear—into the First Chain.
He agrees.
And the god binds Kael's fear—the fear of losing those he loves—into a silver chain coiled around his heart.
Now wielding the Chain of Memory, Kael returns to the mortal realm—but not as he left it.
Around his wrists coil faint sigils of light. Chains of flame ripple beneath his skin. His voice carries weight—when he speaks, truths bend.
Selari senses it first.
"Your presence… it echoes. Like a prophecy echoing backward."
Kael raises his hand.
And from the air itself, he pulls a vow from time—a declaration of war, spoken by the gods in the First Age.
With this vow, he now knows the true origin of the Divine Concord—a pact of betrayal among the Seven Godkings to suppress a rising eighth.
And Kael may very well be its heir.
Far across the continent, in the Kingdom of Harvath, the Skyfalls crack.
The God of Thunder, Orellian, stirs from dormancy. He speaks one word:
"Chainbroken."
And then: silence.
All gods now know what walks the earth.
Kael Vaelorian.
A flame no longer bound to time, name, or fate.
A rebellion in the shape of a boy.