Chapter30: King Kael

Kael I cross into the shadows of a cavernous, echoing palace. Rain slips down the dark stone walls from tunnels funneling upward toward breaks in the mountain that guards the castle built against and within its depths. I adjust my cuffs, smoothing the dark, intricate fabric of my black jacket inlaid with shimmering, polished beads of obsidian, and look up, facing the twisting onyx columns as I cross into the sanctum–the very center of the dilapidated castle. Four men wait in silence, their eyes scanning and inspecting me as I approach. My footsteps carry, thundering through the wide, open space. The air is damp and scented with ozone as a storm of epic proportions rages overhead, casting the steep, unforgiving mountainscape in ribbons of electric blue, just visible through the holes in the ceiling. I fucking hate this place. “King Kael,” calls a man in the center of the group, giving me a sharp, shallow nod of his head. “King Titus,” I reply with little fanfare, returning his nod with