Lord of Deception

A dim fire crackled in the ruined temple, its flames casting jagged shadows across the stone walls. The woman sat opposite Kael, her silver eyes fixed on him with a mixture of wariness and something deeper—curiosity.

She had yet to lower her blade. A lesser man would have taken it as a threat. Kael? He saw an opportunity.

"Your name," he said, his voice smooth, measured. Not a demand. A simple expectation.

A pause. She studied him, gauging his intent. Good. That meant she thought he was worth fearing.

Finally, she spoke.

"Evelyne Dorne. Princess of Seraphyre."

Kael's mind clicked into place like a well-oiled machine. Seraphyre—the Realm of Light. One of the celestial realms that stood at the pinnacle of existence, ruled by an unbroken lineage of divine warriors. If she was a princess, then she was more than just nobility.

She was a pawn with potential.

"Seraphyre," Kael repeated, as if tasting the word. "Strange. I hear it's a paradise. What brings a princess to a place like this?"

Evelyne's grip on her sword tightened. For a moment, he thought she wouldn't answer. Then, quietly—"Betrayal."

The firelight flickered between them, illuminating the shadows under her eyes, the torn fabric of her once-pristine robes. A fallen princess. A woman cast aside.

Kael smiled inwardly. Perfect.

There were two things that made people predictable: fear and loss. She was drowning in the latter.

"Betrayed?" he echoed, leaning forward, his expression carefully crafted into something resembling concern. "By whom?"

Evelyne hesitated—but the need to be understood, to be heard, won out.

"My brother," she said, voice tight. "He framed me as a traitor to the throne. He—" She stopped, exhaling sharply. "It doesn't matter. I won't let him win."

Kael tilted his head, his thoughts moving faster than his words.

A princess of Seraphyre, stripped of her status and cast into the Abyss? Her brother had power, but more importantly—he was willing to eliminate rivals. A man like that wouldn't rest until the threat was truly gone.

Which meant Evelyne Dorne was alone, desperate, and in need of something stronger than revenge.

She needed a cause. A leader.

And Kael? He would give her both.

But not yet. Not until she needed him more than he needed her.

So instead, he exhaled softly and said, "You're not the first to be cast aside by the world. You won't be the last."

Her eyes flickered with something—recognition, maybe.

"But you are alone," he continued, his voice dropping to something dangerously intimate. "A princess without a kingdom, a warrior without an army." He leaned closer, letting his words seep into her thoughts. "Tell me, Evelyne. How long do you think you'll survive on your own?"

Evelyne's expression hardened. "I don't need help."

A lie.

Kael chuckled, leaning back. "Of course not." Then, as if dismissing the entire conversation, he stood. "The Abyss is vast. If you intend to escape, I suggest you move quickly. Before something hungrier finds you."

He turned, walking toward the temple's broken entrance, counting the seconds in his head.

Three. Two. One.

"Wait."

Kael smiled.

Turning back, he raised a brow. "Yes?"

Evelyne hesitated, pride warring with necessity. Finally—"I need to get back to Seraphyre."

"Do you?" Kael mused. "And what will you do when you get there? Slay your brother? Reclaim your throne? And then what?"

She had no answer. Of course she didn't. Revenge wasn't a plan—it was a reaction. Kael had seen it before. The desperate never thought beyond their own suffering.

"Let me help you," he said.

Evelyne studied him, suspicion flickering across her features. "Why?"

"Because you'll owe me," Kael answered truthfully. "And a princess's debt is worth more than gold."

A long silence stretched between them. Then, slowly, Evelyne sheathed her blade.

"I won't be your pawn."

Kael smiled. No, not a pawn. A piece. A powerful one.

"Of course not," he lied.

They moved through the Abyss, its endless ruins stretching before them like the carcass of a dead god.

Evelyne followed closely, her breathing steady but her eyes scanning the shadows. She was a trained warrior, her every step precise. Yet Kael could see it in the way her fingers flexed near her sword—she didn't trust him.

Good. That meant she still thought she had a choice.

"Where are we going?" Evelyne asked.

Kael didn't look back. "To find a way out."

She frowned. "You don't know where you're going."

"No," he admitted. "But I know what I'm looking for."

Before she could question further, a sound cut through the silence.

A low, inhuman growl.

Kael stopped. Evelyne did the same, her hand on her sword hilt.

From the ruins, figures emerged—shifting, snarling, glowing with violet fire.

More Abyssal Hunters.

But these were different. Bigger. More twisted. Something was controlling them.

Kael exhaled slowly. Interesting.

Evelyne drew her blade. "There's too many."

Kael didn't answer. His sigil pulsed beneath his skin, power begging to be unleashed.

But he could not use it freely. Not yet.

Instead, he turned to Evelyne. "You wanted to prove you weren't a pawn?"

Her silver eyes burned.

"Then fight."

The first creature lunged.

And the battle began.