I really enjoyed writing this chapter. Please drop a comment so I'll know that you're following my updates. What do you think will happen next? Will Lyric solo the whole Kade army? I know I've portrayed her to be more powerful than she seems but what do you think will happen? I want to hear your thoughts before you get into the next chapter. ~Samster_x
~Clone Aeron The morning sun slanted through the high windows, carving gold into the marble floor. I awoke before the servants could announce the hour. A habit, maybe, or a necessity. Hard to say which. The sheets were silk, yet they itched. Always did. They clung too tightly, like the expectations everyone kept wrapping around my skin. I sat up. The bedchamber was expansive, polished obsidian floors veined with silver, its walls etched with lunar runes I couldn’t quite decipher. Whoever had designed it clearly thought power was something to be seen before it was felt. A fortress of aesthetics. Empty beauty. I rose, drew the heavy curtains back myself, and stared over the courtyard. The village beyond the castle gates was already stirring. Smoke lifted in elegant spirals from crooked chimneys, market carts rolled into the square, and children chased dogs through mud. Obsidian’s spine was strong, but there were fractures beneath the surface. Hunger. Fear. Dissent. I could feel i
~Ivy The door creaked open, and I nearly stumbled backward when I saw who stepped in. “Ivy?” He blinked. “What are you doing here?” He looked just as stunned as I felt. My jaw slackened slightly before I found my voice. “I could ask you the same thing.” There was a moment of stunned silence before a voice echoed from the hallway. “Both of you. Out. Now.” The masked figure who had first found me stood at the door, arms folded under the sleeves of his long, black robe. Others waited behind him, their skeleton masks gleaming under the torchlight. Kyle and I exchanged a glance, something unspoken passing between us, then followed them out into the wide, stone corridor. We were led down a twisting path until we entered what looked like a gathering hall carved from stone and roots. The walls pulsed faintly, as if the place itself breathed. At the center, a wide platform jutted out, circled by robed figures. The one in the middle raised his hands. His voice was firm but eerily calm. “
~Omniscient The throne room had never been quiet. Even in its emptiest moments, Obsidian’s palace had always pulsed with something—distant footfalls, murmured prayers from the clerics below, the rhythmic crackle of flame from the wall sconces. It was a room built for presence. A place where silence had weight, and every decision made echoed in a thousand unseen directions. But now, seated on the high throne with his hands draped neatly over the arms, Aeron felt perfectly at ease. He did not fidget. He did not blink more than necessary. His back was straight, not too stiff, not too casual. He let the silver sash rest in a loose knot at his side—untied just enough to suggest humility, but cleanly draped to reaffirm command. A delicate balance. The throne room’s doors opened on cue. Naela entered with Elden at her side, scrolls in hand, expressions taut with concern disguised as routine. They’d spent the past hour reviewing the ceremony’s disruption. Nothing serious had been report
~Omniscient POV The first thing Aeron noticed was the cold. Not the soft, bracing chill of dawn on stone floors. No, this was deeper. Sterile. Humid. It clung to his skin like mildew, curling under his collar, seeping into his lungs. His eyelids fluttered open to darkness—one dim orb of light hanging from a rusted chain above. The cell smelled of old iron, like blood that had dried and never been cleaned. Mold grew between the cracks in the stone walls, and water dripped somewhere behind him, slow and steady like a ticking clock. He was chained. Not at the wrists—his hands were free—but a thick manacle hugged his ankle, its chain locked into a sunken ring bolted into the floor. Just long enough to pace, but not enough to reach the narrow steel door. And then there was her. The woman who had used the spell on him that made him pass out. She stepped from the shadows with the soundless grace of someone who had never been prey. Still masked, still clad in that same ink-dark veil an
~Ivy The night was quiet. Too quiet. That kind of stillness that felt like it was waiting to snap. I stood by the window, arms folded, watching the moon carve a silver line across the trees. Kyle was absent from school throughout today. That was very unlike him. I told myself he was probably chasing some squirrel or sulking somewhere dramatic, but that gut-deep knot said otherwise. A breeze blew a piece of paper into my room through my window. The writing on the paper read: “look outside” In that same moment, I noticed movement outside my window. I narrowed my eyes. Just at the edge of the trees, someone stood, cloaked in darkness. Not moving. Not even swaying with the breeze. Just… watching. A rational person would’ve shut the window and gone to bed. I wasn’t feeling particularly rational tonight. I stepped outside, quietly, my feet brushing the dewy grass. The moment I reached the edge of the tree line, the figure turned, slowly, deliberately. He was wearing a long robe,
~Kyle Darkness. It smelled like damp earth and fire smoke. And something else—something metallic. When I opened my eyes, the world spun for a second, like I’d been dropped from a great height and the ground was still deciding whether or not to catch me. I groaned and sat up, slowly. No ropes. No chains. Just a soft patch of forest floor under me and the thick tension of silence hanging above like a noose. Then I saw them. Figures. Surrounding me. Twelve of them, all clad in long black robes that swept the forest floor like smoke. Their faces were completely hidden behind bone-white masks shaped like grinning skulls. Not a single one moved, not even to breathe. They just… stood there. Watching. My heart kicked like it was trying to punch a hole through my ribs. My hands twitched, but there was nothing to reach for—no weapon, no wand, not even a rock. Still, I got to my feet. “Who the hell are you?” I asked. My voice echoed between the trees, sharp and too loud. A bird flapped