I do not remember how many years passed in the Vault of the Wardens. Time rotted there, heavy and unmoving, like the chains around my wrists. Stone, silence, and the endless watchful eyes, designed to break monsters, not contain them.
But tonight, the walls burned.
The Legion’s attack tore the prison open, and in the chaos I reclaimed what was always mine. My warglaives sang again, eager and familiar. Demons fell screaming in the very halls meant to hold me, and for the first time in ages, my steps were my own.
When I leapt from the shattered vault and felt the wind tear past my face, I nearly forgot how it felt to breathe freely. The moon above was cold and distant, but it was real. Not stone. Not bars.
I am Rukain. I was imprisoned for becoming what others feared to be necessary. Let them whisper, let them judge from the safety of their forests and walls.
I am free now….and the Legion will remember why I was locked away.