2025-06-30 02:25:41The torches flickered along the marble arches, each flame burning a little colder than the last. Deep in the Hall of Whispers, King Tharion waited in silence, his jaw clenched, eyes dark with suspicion.
Moments later, the double doors creaked open. First entered High Priest Cazien, robed in midnight black, his silver beard reaching his chest. Behind him, five others followed each in different colored robes, their footsteps silent on the marble floor. Priest Vanya of the Red Cloak, keeper of war and bloodlines. Priest Aldros in Blue, the scholar of water and truth. Sister Elithe in Green, the voice of nature and healing. Priest Marn of Gold, master of light and the stars. And Sage Truvien, cloaked in gray silent observer of fate. They bowed as one. Tharion didn’t move. “I asked for you alone, Cazien,” he said coldly. Cazien met his eyes. “Where prophecy stirs, the council must be present. You do not command the winds of the old world, Your Majesty.” Tharion sneered. “I command everything in this kingdom. Including what’s left of the old world.” Elithe’s voice was gentle. “You’ve silenced the mages, yes. But not the magic itself.” Truvien added softly, “Magic is not a voice, but a heartbeat. And this kingdom is starting to feel it again.” Tharion’s fist slammed against the arm of his throne. “Enough. Tell me what you’ve all hidden from me.” Cazien obeyed, lowering himself across the table that held only a single ancient book, its cover bound in cracked dragonhide. “What is this am hearing?,” Tharion said. “The wind carries strange whispers, Your Majesty, The prophesy.....” "What prophecy" Tharion cuts in fiercely. Cazien stepped forward, pulling from his robes the Book of the First Fire, the oldest known scripture of the world before the purge. Its pages were thick, stitched from ash leaves and dragonhide, humming softly with ancient magic. Cazien placed the book on the stone table before the throne. “You’ve ruled by fear,” Cazien said, “and by the power of that ring. But your rule was never meant to last forever.” "What nonsense!, Need I remind you who you're all talking to" Angry Tharion laments. "Am sorry your Majesty, but are you ready for the truth?" Sister Elithe, the voice of nature and healing says as they all form a circle around the palace. Cazien opened the book to a sealed page marked with blood, time, and shadow. Vanya stepped forward, reciting the old tongue as her eyes beams with green rays of light. "When fire sleeps and darkness rules the land, A child of silence shall rise from ash and sand. Born not of crown, but of olden flame, He shall bring magic back, and end the tyrant’s name. He will command without teaching, Speak without sound, and burn without grace. The world will name him the Returner. His hands shall rule without sword but spell. A beast shall fall, and the sky shall swell. In his shadow, kingdoms will break and bend. Beware the orphan boy he marks the end." Vanya falls to the ground after reciting the spell as other priest help her get on her feet. Sage Truvien added, “This is not a warning, Your Majesty. It is a certainty.” "How do we stop this" Tharion asked. Stop what your Majesty? High priest Tharion asked curiously "This damn prophecy, don't act all dumb". "Your Majesty, the prophecy must be fulfilled" Vanya said. But she just triggered king Tharion. "Lock her up". "your Majesty" Cazien calls out. "I am the one and only King, the immortal, any one who stands on my way must fall, I don't give a damn about any prophecy, I am the god and only King Tharion, you all belong to me. every single one of you" Tharion says as he blood boils He walks up to vanya, grab her by the chin and looked into her eyes as the guards hold her ready for exile. "The next time you oppose me, I'll feed you to the dust". "I am sorry your Majesty". Vanya pleads in fear. Tharion stared at them, the firelight dancing off his gold crown. His jaw clenched as he walked up and down the room. “You knew this… all of you. You knew, and you waited.” Aldros stepped forward. “The child was hidden. Not even we knew if he had survived.” Elithe nodded. “But now... the signs are returning. Animals dying without wounds, Books whispering open, Children dreaming of fire.” Cazien closed the book. “We believe the child is alive. And you’ve given him reason to rise your highness” Tharion stood, towering over the priests. “Then you’ve doomed us all.” He stepped toward the map carved into the table, pointing at a small speck near the forests. “dellwyn. That’s where the rumors started. That’s where the Black Flame will begin.” Tharion turned to his royal guard Commander who had been silently watching from the shadows Maelrik the Hollow, of the Black Flame, a pale man with a scorched scar across his left eye chief General of the army of Oz. “You will take two hundred men,” the king ordered. “Raid every village between Dellwyn and Gallow’s Pass. I want every boy inspected. Every house searched. If he resists... burn the town.” Cazien spoke up, voice low but calm. “If you force his hand now, he will rise in fire.” Tharion glared at him. “Let him rise. I will crush him like the rest of his kind. All of you get out. GET OUTT...” Tharion groans. Outside the Hall As the priests left the hall one by one, Sister Elithe turned to Cazien. “Do you truly believe the boy can stop him?” Cazien looked up at the sky through the high windows of the castle. “Not just stop him,” he said quietly. “He may be the only one who can save us all.” Later that night, Cazien returns to Dellwyn Ozile and lights a single candle within the Temple of Silence, the spiritual center of the old magic. He kneels beneath a giant mural of the "Black Flame Prophecy." and whispers, "Let the boy’s heart remain pure… may rage not consume what hope begins.” He places an amulet, a white obsidian pendant on the altar. “For Lucas… if he ever finds us.” Unknown to him, the pendant glows faintly as if Lucas’s energy resonates miles away.
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Chapter 38 ~ Plan in the Steam
The palace was quiet, wrapped in a hushed stillness that always followed sunset. Torches lined the gilded halls, flickering against tapestries of ancient battles, their flames dancing like restless spirits. The air smelled of sandalwood and rosewater, a mix so rich it clung to every breath. Servants padded across the polished marble floors on soft leather slippers, their heads bowed low, their voices barely whispers.At the heart of this vast fortress lay the king’s private bathing chamber—a cavernous, domed room carved from ivory stone and inlaid with veins of emerald. The pool at its center stretched wide enough to resemble a small lake, its edges adorned with golden braziers that cast rippling light over the steaming surface. The king himself reclined in this luxurious pool, his long black hair floating like ink on water. His broad, scarred shoulders glistened under the soft glow of firelight, his eyes closed in serene relaxation.Two attendants fanned the warm steam toward him wit
Chapter 37 ~ Release the Priest
The golden torches of the King’s Hall burned high, their flickering light painting shadows along the towering marble columns. The chamber smelled faintly of frankincense and steel—a deliberate choice by King Tharion, for both holiness and fear. Tonight, the scent carried heavier weight than ever.Word of Cazien’s arrest had spread through the streets of Dellwyn like wildfire. Whispers filled the city of Ozile, echoing in alleys, and even the palace guards exchanged uneasy glances. It had been centuries since a High Priest of the Kingdom of Thorns had been placed in chains, and the shock rippled through every corner of the realm.Now, in the throne room, the Council of Thorn—twelve men and women adorned in crimson and obsidian robes gathered in a wide semicircle before the elevated throne. Their murmurs bounced off the vaulted ceilings, their voices low and sharp, like swords drawn but not yet swung.Tharion sat at the center of it all, on a throne carved of blackstone and lined with g
Chapter 36 ~ The Hunter's Pursuit
The tavern stank of blood and fear. Broken tables and shattered mugs littered the floor, and groans from the unconscious fighters echoed through the dim room. The scarred leader, bruised and trembling, leaned against the wall, spitting blood into the dirt as he clutched his ribs. His men—what was left of them shifted uneasily, too battered to move and too ashamed to speak.The tavern’s heavy oak door creaked open, letting in a cold gust from the night outside. A group of armored men stepped in, boots thudding against the floorboards. Their armor bore the sigil of King Tharion—a black serpent coiled around a silver crown and the dim lanternlight gleamed off their polished pauldrons.Leading them was Maelrik. His presence was like a blade in the dark. sharp, cold, and unforgiving. His black hair was tied back, his pale face expressionless, but his golden eyes carried a fire that froze the air around him. He glanced around the wrecked tavern, his gaze sweeping over the bodies and overtur
Chapter 35 ~ Who Are You?
A chilling draft swept through the room, extinguishing one of the flickering lanterns hanging above the counter. Lucas instinctively straightened where he stood, his eyes narrowing as his hand inched toward his sword. Beside him, Agnes caught on to the shift in energy, her fingers brushing against the hilt of her daggerBulb, still leaning against the wall as he studied the man the barman had directed them to, tilted his head slightly. “Did you feel that?” he muttered under his breath.Before Lucas could respond, the heavy wooden doors of the bar slammed open with a resounding BANG! The chatter and clinking glasses came to a dead stop. Everyone turned toward the entrance.A group of men entered, they were reckless fighters by the way they moved. They were armored in mismatched pieces of fabric and boots, each carrying weapons that had clearly seen more than one battle. Their boots thudded against the floorboards as they fanned out, a calculated movement that showed they weren’t here f
Chapter 34 ~ People of Sekandre
The road to Sekandre was long, winding, and eerily quiet. The sun was slipping lower behind the hills, casting long, jagged shadows across the forest path, but none of them spoke. Lucas stayed at the front, his shoulders tense, his hand never straying far from the hilt of his sword. Behind him, Agnes kept her eyes trained on the path, her usual sharp remarks absent. Bulb, however, trudged along in the rear, glancing from Lucas to Agnes, sensing the tension thick in the air.It wasn’t like them to be this quiet. Normally, Agnes would be pointing out flaws in Bulb’s navigation, and Bulb would fire back with his own sarcastic wit, but now even he felt the weight of silence pressing down on them.Bulb exhaled loudly, shoving the worn map into his satchel with an exaggerated sigh.“Alright, Sekandre Hahaha” he said finally breaking the stillness, giving both Agnes and Lucas side eye waiting for a reply from one of them. Lucas kept mute, his jaw tight. He knew Bulb was fishing for a reactio
Chapter 33 ~ Powerfully hexed
The forest at night was alive with whispers. Leaves rustled softly in the cool breeze, and the distant call of a night bird echoed through the towering pines. A silver crescent moon cut through drifting clouds, scattering pale light across the river that snaked lazily past a small clearing. The air smelled faintly of damp moss and smoke from the dying embers of a campfire, the only sign of life in the vast wilderness.Lucas stood at the river’s edge, barefoot, shirtless, and still as a statue. The moonlight outlined his lean, battle-hardened frame, glinting off faint scars that mapped his torso like a history of survival. His eyes were closed, his breathing measured, his fingers curled loosely at his sides. Around him, the forest felt charged—alive with something invisible yet unmistakable.Every rustle of leaves, every shift of the wind carried information to him. His senses, sharpened by both training and magic, scanned for danger. Somewhere out there, Maelrik and his men were still
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