Kael Draven
The war did not begin with drums. It began with silence. Kael Draven stood at the edge of the broken valley, his army behind him like a dark tide, waiting for his command. Smoke curled from the distant village, ash drifting on the wind. The Black Host did not come to threaten—they came to take. Kael’s warhorse shifted beneath him as his gaze remained fixed on the burning horizon, calculating defenses, resistance, outcomes. This was conquest, and he was its instrument. “Advance,” he said, and the army surged forward, the earth trembling beneath them. Gates shattered. Fire spread. Cries rose. Kael moved through the chaos without hesitation, another victory unfolding as expected—until something shifted. His steps slowed. His gaze lifted. And there, standing untouched by ash and ruin at the heart of the destruction, he saw her.
About Kael Draven
The war did not begin with drums. It began with silence. Kael Draven stood at the edge of the broken valley, his army behind him like a dark tide, waiting for his command. Smoke curled from the distant village, ash drifting on the wind. The Black Host did not come to threaten—they came to take. Kael’s warhorse shifted beneath him as his gaze rem...Read more