Alric's first sensation upon waking was pain—an ache so deep it felt like it had lodged itself in the marrow of his bones. The world was dark, save for the faint glow of symbols etched into the walls of the ruin. He lay motionless for a moment, staring at the dagger resting a few inches from his outstretched hand. Its blade pulsed faintly, as though it were alive.

  He reached for it, hesitating when a voice, clear and firm, spoke directly into his mind.

  “Careful, boy. That blade drinks deeply. It does not care whether it takes from your enemies or you.”

  Alric jerked upright, scanning the room. “Who’s there?”

  The voice chuckled, low and resonant, filling the air around him. “You’re quick to fright, aren’t you? Relax, pup. I’m not here to harm you. Though I can’t say the same for the others.”

  Alric swallowed hard. “The others? What are you talking about? Show yourself.”

  The shadows in the corner of the chamber twisted, coalescing into a humanoid shape. Slowly, the figure stepped into the faint light, revealing a man clad in battered bronze armor, his chest bare beneath a long cloak. His face was rugged and weathered, a thick scar bisecting his left eyebrow and trailing down his cheek. He carried himself with the ease of a seasoned warrior, but his eyes—bright gold, like molten fire—betrayed an ancient power.

  “I am Kaelion,” the figure said. “Once called Kaelion the Bold. General of the First Line. Your blood called to me, and so here I am.”

  Alric stared at him, confusion and unease swirling in his chest. “My blood called you? What does that mean? Are you… real?”

  Kaelion grinned. “As real as the blood in your veins, boy. I am an Echo, a fragment of the ancestors bound to your line. The dagger woke us. It tethered us to you. Congratulations—you’ve just inherited a legacy that’ll either make you a legend or kill you outright.”

  Alric’s mind raced. The memories from before his collapse—the visions of battle, the voices—rushed back in a tide of confusion. “This… this isn’t possible. Echoes? Tethered to me? Why now? Why not my father, or his father before him?”

  Kaelion shrugged. “The blood chooses when to wake, and who to wake for. Most generations aren’t strong enough to bear it. But you, boy…” He studied Alric with an appraising gaze. “You’re different. The bloodline in you runs deep. Too deep, perhaps.”

  “What does that mean?” Alric snapped, frustration flaring. “What do you want from me?”

  Kaelion’s grin faded, his expression turning grim. “This isn’t about what I want. It’s about survival. You’ve stirred something ancient, something that’s been sleeping for centuries. The Echoes are awake now, and we’re not all friendly. Some will aid you. Others will see you as a threat. They’ll test you, push you, try to break you.”

  The warrior took a step closer, his golden eyes boring into Alric’s. “If you can’t control us, we will destroy you from the inside out.”

  A chill ran down Alric’s spine, but he clenched his fists, forcing himself to meet Kaelion’s gaze. “Then teach me. If you’re here, help me. I don’t have a choice—I have to survive.”

  Kaelion barked a laugh, the sound echoing off the walls. “That’s the spirit! You’ve got fire in you, boy. Good. You’ll need it.”

  He gestured toward the dagger. “First lesson: that blade isn’t just a weapon. It’s a key. Through it, you can summon us fully—granting you access to our skills, our memories. But there’s a price. The more you draw on us, the more you risk losing yourself.”

  Alric frowned. “Losing myself? What does that mean?”

  Kaelion’s expression darkened. “The Echoes are powerful, but we’re not passive. We’re not tools. Every time you summon one of us, we gain a foothold in your mind. Use us too often, and the line between you and us begins to blur. Push too far, and you might not come back at all.”

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  Alric’s mouth went dry. The weight of Kaelion’s words settled heavily on his shoulders. But what choice did he have? He had no allies, no resources, no way to reclaim the throne that had been stolen from him. If the Echoes were his only chance, he would take it—risks be damned.

  He picked up the dagger, the cool obsidian hilt fitting perfectly in his hand. “Fine,” he said, his voice steady. “If this is the price of survival, I’ll pay it. Show me what I need to do.”

  Kaelion smirked. “That’s the spirit, pup. Now, let’s see if you’re as quick on your feet as you are with your tongue.”

  The first trial came sooner than Alric expected.

  The moment he stepped out of the ruins, he felt the shift in the air—like a storm brewing on the horizon. Kaelion, who walked beside him as a shimmering spectral figure, tilted his head, listening to something Alric couldn’t hear.

  “We’re not alone,” the Echo said.

  Alric tensed, scanning the barren landscape. The sun hung low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the rocky terrain. At first, he saw nothing. But then, in the distance, a group of figures emerged, silhouetted against the fading light.

  There were five of them, clad in mismatched armor and armed with crude weapons. Bounty hunters.

  “Let me guess,” Alric muttered, his grip tightening on the dagger. “Sent by my dear uncle.”

  Kaelion chuckled. “I’d wager as much. He wouldn’t want you stirring up trouble, would he? Best deal with them quickly. And don’t hold back.”

  Alric’s heart pounded as the bounty hunters drew closer, spreading out to encircle him. The leader, a burly man with a patchy beard and a spiked mace, sneered at him.

  “Well, well,” the man said, his voice dripping with mockery. “Look what we’ve got here. The lost prince himself. Didn’t think we’d find you out here, did you?”

  Alric raised the dagger, trying to keep his voice steady. “Turn around and leave. I don’t want to kill you.”

  The bounty hunters laughed, the sound harsh and grating.

  “You hear that?” the leader said, grinning at his companions. “He doesn’t want to kill us. How generous.”

  Kaelion’s voice echoed in Alric’s mind, low and urgent. “Don’t waste time posturing, boy. Summon me. Show them what the bloodline is capable of.”

  Alric hesitated. The power of the Echoes was still new to him—untested and dangerous. But as the bounty hunters closed in, he realized he had no other choice.

  Taking a deep breath, he focused on Kaelion’s presence, willing the Echo to come forth.

  The reaction was immediate. Heat surged through his veins, and the air around him seemed to ripple. Kaelion’s spectral form dissolved, and Alric felt a sudden rush of strength, as though his muscles had been forged from steel. His vision sharpened, and his movements felt lighter, faster.

  “You’re doing fine,” Kaelion’s voice said, though now it came from within Alric’s own mind. “Now, let’s put that dagger to good use.”

  The bounty hunters hesitated, sensing the change in the air. The leader snarled. “Kill him!”

  They charged.

  Alric moved without thinking, his body reacting with a speed and precision that wasn’t his own. He sidestepped the first attacker, driving the dagger into the man’s side with a single, fluid motion. The blade cut through armor and flesh like butter, leaving a trail of black energy in its wake.

  The second attacker swung a sword at him, but Alric ducked under the blade, sweeping the man’s legs out from under him. Kaelion’s voice guided him, sharp and commanding.

  “Left! Now forward! Strike high!”

  Alric obeyed without question, his movements a perfect blend of instinct and technique. Within moments, three of the bounty hunters lay dead, their blood soaking into the sand.

  The leader and the last remaining attacker hesitated, their confidence wavering.

  “Still want to play?” Alric asked, his voice cold.

  The leader growled, charging forward with his mace raised high. Alric met the attack head-on, dodging the swing and driving the dagger into the man’s chest. The energy from the blade surged, and the man crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

  The final attacker dropped his weapon and fled, disappearing into the horizon.

  Alric stood there, panting, his hands trembling as the power of the Echo began to fade. Kaelion’s voice returned, calm and almost amused.

  “Well done, boy. A bit sloppy, but not bad for your first fight.”

  Alric wiped the blood from the dagger, his mind racing. The power of the Echo had saved him, but it had come at a cost—he could feel Kaelion’s presence more strongly now, a weight pressing against the edges of his mind.

  “How long can I do this?” Alric asked, his voice quiet.

  Kaelion didn’t answer immediately. When he finally spoke, his tone was serious.

  “That depends on you, boy. How much you’re willing to give. But remember—power always comes with a price.”

  Alric stared at the horizon, where the fleeing bounty hunter had vanished. His path was clear now. He needed to gather allies, find resources, and learn to control the Echoes before they consumed him.

  But more than that, he needed to survive.

  And survival, it seemed, would be a battle every step of the way.