Cyrian's povThe iron glowed with the color of a dying star, and the heat coming off it should have made me flinch. It didn’t. I stared straight ahead at the Stone of Penitence, my wrists raw from the shackles, while the laughter of the court hissed in my ears like a pit of vipers."Look at him," Thalric sneered, his voice dripping with a sickly, performative pity. He stepped closer, the branding iron trembling slightly in his grip. Not from fear, but from the sheer adrenaline of finally breaking me. "The Great Disgrace. The stain on the bloodline. Are you ready to wear your true name, little brother?"I looked at him. Truly looked at him. To the crowd, I was just a broken seventeen-year-old. But inside, the soul of the Thousand-Year Warden had just slammed into this vessel like a falling moon. The boy who had been weeping five seconds ago was gone. In his place was a man who had seen empires burn to ash."You talk too much, Thalric," I said. My voice was sandpaper and ice.The crowd

The vault air was stagnant, smelling of old copper and dead men's dreams. I didn't have much time before Thalric’s shock wore off and his survival instinct kicked in. He’d send the entire Iron Guard to bury me here if it meant keeping his secrets.I moved through the shadows of the Oakhaven treasury, bypassing piles of gold that could buy a kingdom. I didn't care about the gold. I needed the catalyst."Looking for this, brother?"I didn't turn around. I knew the voice. It was Sir Kaelen, the Captain of the Vaults and Thalric’s most expensive lapdog. He stood by the central pedestal, tossing a small, glowing stone—the Ichor-Seed—into the air and catching it with a smug grin."Give it here, Kaelen," I said, my voice flat. "While you still have the hands to hold it.""You’ve got a big mouth for a man who was just branded like a pig," Kaelen sneered, signaling the four guards flanking him. "Thalric said you’d come here. He said you’d try to steal the family legacy before you fled like the

The shadows of the Iron Weald didn’t just hang between the trees; they felt like they were breathing. I stood my ground, my golden marrow cooling slightly as the Briar-Witch’s remains twitched in the dirt, but the real threat was the girl still holding a blade to my side."Keep walking," I said, ignoring the sting of the dagger. "The deeper we go, the harder it is for Thalric’s dogs to track us.""I’m not going anywhere with a monster," Elowen snapped, though her voice wavered as the trees around us groaned. "You’re glowing, Cyprian. Your skin... it looks like molten gold is trapped under it. What did you do in those vaults?""I took back what was stolen," I said. I turned to face her, the movement so fast she didn't even have time to flinch. I grabbed her wrist—not to hurt her, but to steady her. "Listen to me. The world you knew is over. That village? It’s a graveyard waiting for a date. The Sun-Lords are coming for the 'harvest,' and you’re on the menu because of what’s hiding in y

The City of Black-Iron didn't breathe; it rattled. The air was a thick soup of coal smoke, scorched grease, and the metallic tang of blood. It was the only place where the Sun-Lords’ gaze couldn't penetrate the soot-stained clouds, and the only place a man with golden blood could hide in plain sight.I pulled the hood of my tattered cloak lower, obscuring the brand on my chest. Beside me, Elowen was a trembling shadow, her eyes darting between the jagged spires of the city."We need supplies, Elowen," I said, my voice barely a whisper over the roar of the steam-foundries. "Food, mounts, and a blade that won't shatter the first time it hits a Seraph’s hide. And for that, we need the Void-Steel.""And you’re going to get it by fighting in a hole in the ground?" she hissed, clutching her own cloak. "Cyprian, you’re barely standing. Your chest is still bleeding light.""I'm not fighting, Elowen," I said, stepping toward the heavy iron doors of the Crucible. "I'm harvesting."We entered th

The sky over the City of Black-Iron didn't just turn dark; it turned predatory. The Star-Shard’s beam acted like a hook in the gut of the heavens, pulling the wrath of the High Lords down upon us."Cyprian, we’re trapped!" Elowen’s voice was nearly lost in the shrieking of the city’s alarm bells. "The gates are melting! I saw the guards—they didn't even fight. They just turned to salt when the light touched them!"I gripped the hilt of the Void-Steel, the black metal pulsing against my palm. Around us, the mercenary hub was a hive of panic. Sellswords who had killed for a copper were now weeping on their knees, praying to the very Sun-Lords who were currently aiming a cosmic execution at our heads."They aren't here for the city, Elowen. They're here for the glitch," I said, my eyes tracking the six streaks of fire screaming through the clouds. "And as long as we’re on foot, we're just targets in a shooting gallery.""Then what do we do? You can't fight six of them! Not after the tour