"Kaelen?" Lyra’s voice was a hoarse whisper. "No... you shouldn’t be here. The curse... Malachar wants to absorb it. He wants to become a true Lich King."
"They won’t come," the scout spat bitterly. "Ser Alistair said it’s ‘below their concern.’ He said Lyra should have known better than to delve old tombs. He’s... he’s different now. Arrogant. So I came to the monster. At least monsters are honest."
Behind him, Lyra, Gunnar, Thalia, and even Ser Alistair fell into step. Not following. Walking beside him. dark hero party save
They made the slow journey back. Kaelen expected to be shunned, arrested, or executed. But when they arrived at the town of Silverwood, the people didn’t throw stones. They threw flowers. The scout had talked. A few rangers had watched from the hills. The truth, it seemed, was a stubborn thing.
The violet veins across his body flared like miniature suns. He screamed, a sound of pure agony that shattered the bone cages holding Lyra and the others. They fell to the stone floor, coughing, gasping. "Kaelen
The Shadow’s Mercy
And the heartstone? It shattered. But instead of releasing the stolen life force back into the void, Kaelen forced it outward. Wisps of golden and silver light flowed from his fingers and wrapped around Lyra, Gunnar, and Thalia. Their wounds sealed. Their color returned. They were whole. The curse
"What are you doing?!" Malachar shrieked.