"Some ghosts don't haunt—they burn."
---
The battlefield had fallen silent.
Smoke curled through broken spears and shattered shields. Naela stood still, her eyes locked on a lone figure walking through the mist—limping, face torn by scars and memory.
She dropped her dagger. Her lips trembled.
"…Adric?"
The man paused. The left side of his face was burnt beyond recognition. The other side—the one untouched—still carried the shadow of the boy she once loved.
And in his arms…
A child.
The boy looked no older than seven. Dark curls, striking green eyes—Naela's eyes.
Jayden stepped beside her. "Who is he?"
Naela whispered, "My son."
---
That night, under the blaze of a low fire, Naela sat between Jayden and Adric. The boy—Rian—slept between his father's tattered cloak and the warmth of a sleeping wolfhound.
Adric refused to look at her. "You left me. You left him."
"I thought you both were dead."
"You didn't come back."
"I couldn't."
Jayden spoke softly, "Why now? Why appear on this battlefield?"
Adric's answer was simple. "Otieno's shadow is creeping. He knows about Rian. He wants the boy."
Naela's hands clenched. "He'll die before he touches him."
Jayden's eyes glinted. "Then we protect him together."
---
Later, Jayden stood alone, overlooking the camp. Gloria approached.
"He has your eyes when you're angry," she said, nodding at the child.
Jayden smiled faintly. "He's not mine."
"No," she said. "But you're beginning to act like he is. That's rare… for a man like you."
Jayden turned, shadows dancing on his face. "I once thought my name was a shield. Jayden Ochieng. A combination of pain and legacy."
Gloria tilted her head. "And now?"
"Now, I realize it's not a shield. It's a sword."
---
Far away, Otieno received a raven.
He opened the scroll slowly, then smiled.
"She has a son… and he carries the blood of the Seventh Fang."
He turned to a cloaked servant. "Send her. The one with the venom in her kiss."
"Yes, master."
Otieno whispered, "Let's see how far a mother will go before she breaks."
---