Season 2-Chp 69
last update2025-06-10 15:38:28

The spiral was calm now, its silver runes fading into the ground like words slipping back into a forgotten page. The amber light of the Scribe still hung faint in the sky, like the echo of a sunrise that never fully arrived.

In his hand, the quill pulsed.

Not like a weapon. Not like a relic. Like a living decision.

He hadn't moved in what felt like hours.

The quill was warm, not with fire but intention. It vibrated with every thought in his mind, as if ready to sketch them into reality. It knew the cost of silence. It had lived longer than memory. It did not want to wait.

But Cian did.

He feared what he might write.

Ashiel stood just beyond the spiral, arms crossed but face unguarded. “The sky changed for you. Are you going to let it ask the next question alone?”

Cian didn’t look up. “I don’t know what this is yet.”

“It’s power.”

“No,” Jerome said as he approached slowly, his expression lined with something between pride and fear. “It’s authorship.”

Margareth stepped into the ring. “S
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  • Season 3-Chp 58

    The battlefield still smoked, a graveyard of steel and ash. Where the Shadowlord had fallen, the ground itself seemed scorched beyond recognition, as though the earth had tried to reject his existence. His flames no longer roared, yet the air remained heavy, clinging with the scent of burning flesh and charred stone.Elias stood among the ruins, his sword lowered, the faint glow finally fading from its edge. Around him, silence hung—a silence too vast, too heavy—until the cries of the living broke it apart.The freed soldiers staggered, blinking as though waking from a nightmare. Some collapsed to their knees, clutching their heads. Others screamed in anguish as memories returned: the battles they had fought, the innocents they had slain, all under the Shadowlord’s binding will. The chains of the Crown were gone, but what remained was worse—freedom without forgiveness.Helena leaned against a broken pillar, her armor scorched, one side of her face streaked with soot. “We won,” she sai

  • Season 3-Chp 57

    The fires smoldered long into the night, sending black plumes twisting toward the heavens. The battlefield was silent now, save for the crackle of dying embers and the faint moans of the wounded. The Shadowlord was gone, his ashes scattered by the wind. But the victory brought no celebration—only a heavy, uncertain quiet.Elias stood at the center of it all, his sword still faintly glowing, blood streaking down his arms from where the chains had bitten deep. He swayed on his feet but refused to fall. Every eye was on him—the councilors on the wall, the soldiers who survived, the newly freed souls stirring awake in confusion.Whispers rippled through the crowd.“The heir…”“He hid it from us…”“Is he our savior, or another tyrant?”Helena stood close, her blade sheathed, but her hand hovered near the hilt as if ready to defend him—or strike him—depending on what came next. Marcus was on Elias’s other side, shield strapped to his back, gaze sweeping the crowd with the instinct of a sold

  • Season 3-Chp 56

    The battlefield burned. Ash choked the night sky, blotting out the stars, and the fortress walls glowed red from the reflection of fire below. Elias stood amid the chaos, sword blazing with the pale-blue fire of his bloodline, staring across the field at the Shadowlord.The Crown fragment pulsed on his brow, dark and jagged, like a shard torn from the heart of night itself. Chains of shadow stretched from it into the chests of the Bound Souls, tugging their wills like puppets on strings. With every flick of his crimson whip, the Shadowlord dragged another wave of innocents forward.Helena and Marcus fought back-to-back near Elias, freeing who they could, but their movements slowed. Exhaustion bled into every strike. The fortress defenders were breaking.The Shadowlord’s laughter rose above the clash of steel. “So the blood of kings still flows in your veins, boy. Did you think you could hide it forever?”Elias raised his blade, forcing his voice steady. “I never wanted thrones. I neve

  • Season 2-Chp 55

    The horns of the fortress groaned in the dead of night, low and mournful, rolling across the battlements like the wail of dying giants. Elias was the first on the wall. The air itself seemed heavier, pressed down by a tide of dread.He gazed outward. Torches dotted the horizon, not in scattered bands of raiders, but in one endless, unbroken sea of fire. The ground trembled beneath their march. From this distance, the army looked like a swarm of ants crawling across the earth—but as the glow grew nearer, details emerged.Faces.Men, women, even children. Farmers clutching sickles like swords. Former soldiers stripped of insignia. Eyes empty, devoid of will. Their steps moved in unnatural rhythm, each boot striking the dirt in perfect unison.“The March of Bound Souls,” Helena whispered at his side. Her fingers tightened on the hilt of her blade until her knuckles blanched. “Gods help us.”Marcus cursed under his breath. “That’s no army. That’s… that’s everyone. Villages. Cities. They’r

  • Season 2-Chp 54

    The fortress still bore the scars of the last siege—charred walls, shattered gates patched with hurried iron, and the acrid scent of burned stone lingering even after days of relentless cleansing. Yet beneath the smoke and ash, another kind of fire smoldered—fear, suspicion, and whispers that no sword could cut down.Elias stood atop the battlements, his cloak heavy with the night wind. Below, torchlight flickered across the courtyard where the survivors worked late into the darkness, stacking sandbags, hammering new spikes into wooden barricades. Their determination was undeniable, yet so too was their unease. They were building walls not just against the Shadowlord’s armies, but against the shadows within their own hearts.Marcus approached, his armor dented but polished, his jaw tight with unspoken frustration.“They don’t trust you,” he said bluntly, halting beside Elias. “Not fully. Not after—”“The betrayal,” Elias finished for him. His voice carried neither anger nor denial. “O

  • Season 2-Chp 53

    Every man and woman who survived Alaric’s betrayal stood on edge, weapons close at hand, eyes darting to every shadow. The silence outside the walls pressed heavier than battle. It was the silence of an enemy gathering, waiting, preparing.Elias stood on the highest tower, the night wind cold against his face. Below, fires dotted the horizon—thousands of them, spreading across the hills like a second sky fallen to earth. The Shadowlord had gathered his full strength.Helena climbed the stairs to join him, her armor dull with soot, her face drawn with exhaustion. She didn’t speak at first. They simply stood together, watching the endless army below.At last she whispered, “When they come, it will be the end.”Elias’s jaw tightened. “Then we make our end costly.”But Helena turned her gaze on him, her silver hair whipping in the wind. “No, Elias. Don’t play at riddles. The Shadowlord called you heir. What did he mean?”The question cut deeper than any blade.Elias said nothing.“Answer

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