Lyra’s POVThe corridor was long behind them now, swallowed by the cold stone walls of the ancient passageway. After Nyxar's warnings and the unsettling energy that still buzzed beneath her skin, Lyra had returned to their quarters with Kane, her thoughts a storm of questions and instincts she could barely contain.Now, wrapped in the soft embrace of their bed, the room dimly lit by the moonlight filtering through gauzy curtains, she lay beside him, tangled in a quiet stillness.Kane’s arm draped around her waist, his thumb brushing lazy circles along her hipbone as if grounding her to the present. But Lyra’s mind wandered - back to the runes, the sealed door, and the low thrumming that echoed beneath the castle floors like a warning or a heartbeat."You're quiet," Kane murmured beside her. His voice was low, still slightly rough from sleep, but it held a softness only she ever heard. "Too quiet. That usually means you're thinking something dangerous."Lyra let out a breath. Not quite
Nyxar’s POVThe council chamber emptied in slow, uncertain waves.Some left in silence, their faces unreadable. Others lingered in hushed groups, murmuring behind hands and cloaks, their whispered fears curling through the air like smoke. Nyxar didn’t need to hear them to know what they were saying.She’s changed.She’s unnatural.She cannot be trusted.His lips curled in the barest sneer as he leaned against a shadowed pillar, arms crossed. Fools. Cowards.They sat in their high seats and clung to their old ways, blind to the tides shifting beneath their feet. Did they truly believe the Harbinger would spare them if they turned against Lyra now? Did they think they had another choice?He watched them scatter like frightened birds, saw the doubt etched into the lines of their faces, the hesitance in their step.Weakness.This was the rot that always seeped into kingdoms before they fell - the hesitation to do what was necessary, the fear of the unknown outweighing the threat already a
Lyra’s POVThe air in the chamber was thick with something unseen, something pressing. Lyra exhaled slowly, trying to shake the restless energy curling through her veins. Across from her, Nyxar stilled, his dark eyes narrowing as if he, too, had felt it.It wasn’t just unease. It was something else - something shifting beneath the surface of reality.A slow, pulsing force.Ancient. Wrong.Lyra’s fingers twitched at her sides. She turned to Nyxar, meeting his gaze. “You feel it too.”Nyxar didn’t answer immediately. He tilted his head slightly, as if listening to something just beyond the reach of mortal hearing. Then, quietly, “Yes.”Her pulse quickened. “What is it?”For a moment, he didn’t respond. Then, with measured slowness, he turned toward the archway leading to the terrace. “Come.”Lyra followed, her steps brisk but silent as they moved through the halls. The further they walked, the heavier the air became, charged with something unnatural. It wasn’t just her imagination - eve
Lyra POV The air in the corridor felt thick, pressing against Lyra as she ran. Her feet barely made a sound on the stone floors, but her mind was roaring, the heavy weight of what she had just witnessed haunting every step. The shadows above the city - something had shifted. The magic in the air had twisted, turned darker, and for the first time, she had felt the very essence of fear curling around her bones.Lyra didn’t stop to question the urgency in her movements. She only had one thought - Kane. She needed to find him, needed to feel his strength, his calm presence to steady the growing panic inside her.As she reached the door to their quarters, her breath hitched. Her hand was shaking as she pressed it to the handle, pushing the door open just enough to slip inside. The familiar warmth of their shared space embraced her, but the air in here felt different now - tense, like a storm was gathering just beneath the surface.“Kane?” she called softly, stepping further in, her voice
The grand hall of the council chamber was eerily quiet as Lyra and Kane stepped inside. The room, bathed in muted light from the high, arched windows, seemed to hold its breath. The members of the council - elders from every corner of the kingdom, each of them powerful, respected - sat at their long, polished table. Their eyes were trained on her, but it wasn’t just curiosity that lined their gazes. It was a heavy, suffocating mix of concern, fear, and suspicion.Lyra felt the weight of their stares, each one an invisible pressure on her chest. The air seemed thick with unsaid words, too many emotions coiling together in a silent storm. As she walked further into the room, her silver eyes flickered over the council members - each a pillar of power in their own right - and she couldn’t help but notice the way they recoiled from her presence, as though her very being unsettled them.The whispers were already starting.“I told you it would come to this,” Elder Varick muttered from the fa
Lyra POV Lyra walked with purpose through the dimly lit corridors of the castle, each step echoing softly against the ancient stone walls. She could still feel the weight of the council’s words pressing down on her, their doubts clinging to the edges of her mind like shadows that refused to be shaken off. But she wasn’t going to let them consume her.She had made her decision. Now, she needed to be ready.The chamber that held the First Queen’s belongings was deep beneath the castle, hidden away from the world. Lyra was once here with her father. The torches lining the walls flickered as Lyra and Kane descended the spiral staircase, the air growing colder the further they went.At the bottom, massive doors of black iron awaited them, etched with ancient runes that pulsed faintly under Lyra’s fingertips as she pressed her palm to the cold metal. The seals recognized her blood, her power, and with a deep groan, the doors unlocked, swinging open to reveal the chamber beyond.A hush fell
Lyra’s POVA deep, guttural sound reverberated through the stone beneath Lyra’s feet, sending a tremor up her spine. The lamps lining the walls flickered violently, their light bending unnaturally as if disturbed by an unseen force. The council chamber, already thick with tension, fell into an uneasy silence.Then came the second tremor - stronger this time. Dust trickled from the high-arched ceiling, and the heavy wooden table at the center of the room groaned under the sudden shift.Kane’s hand was on his sword before Lyra had the chance to speak. His body tensed beside her, muscles coiled as his sharp eyes scanned the chamber.The council members stirred uneasily, their anxious whispers breaking into urgent murmurs.“What in the gods’ name was that?” One of the elders, Lord Ildren, leaned forward, his weathered face pale with uncertainty.“The city is protected,” Lady Corva said sharply, though her fingers curled against the armrest of her chair. “Nothing should be able to-”Anothe
The fire burned low, casting flickering shadows over the tense figures gathered around it. The night stretched long and restless, the air thick with unspoken fears. Lyra sat at the edge of the circle, fingers flexing against the hilt of her sword. Kane stood beside her, unmoving, his gaze locked on the barrier’s glowing arc in the distance.The weight of the inevitable pressed down on all of them.Nyxar hadn't moved since the Harbinger’s last whisper faded into the night, his golden eyes watching the horizon beyond the barrier, where the Hollow Grounds lay in waiting. The witches murmured amongst themselves, their magic lingering in the air like a silent, unseen hum.Then - the barrier pulsed. Slightly weaker now. No one spoke the words, but they all felt it in their bones.The next attack would not be a test. It would be the final breach. The realization settled over them, thick and suffocating.Kane was the first to break the silence. "We can’t wait for him to come to us." His voice
Lyra POV The silence that followed didn’t feel like peace. It felt like the world had forgotten how to breathe.Stone dust hung in the air like smoke, fine and pale, drifting slowly down in spirals from the vaulted ceiling above. Runes that had once blazed with ancient light were now dark and broken, their power spent. Cracks split the floor like veins across a dead heart.And at the center of it all, Lyra sat on her knees in the ruins of the seal - her hands tangled in Nyxar’s coat, her breath coming in ragged, uneven pulls.He was warm. That was the only thing she could hold onto.He was warm.His chest rose and fell beneath her fingers, slow but steady. His body, usually tense with power, now felt strangely soft in her arms - boneless, weighty. And his face…His face looked peaceful.Not serene. Not untouched. There were shadows under his eyes, ash on his skin, and gold still faintly glowing at the corners of his mouth. But there was no pain now. No fight left in him.Just… peace
Nyxar POVThe earth still quaked when the light began to fade. Not with the blinding fury of battle, nor with the blood-red chaos of war - but with something quieter. Heavier. Like the echo of a heartbeat after it stops.A sacred breath held too long… finally exhaled.Nyxar stood at the heart of the chamber beneath the castle - boots braced against fractured stone, the runes beneath his feet flickering like dying stars. The seal pulsed in front of him, threads of gold and shadow unraveling into the dark like veins torn open.Ekreth stood beside him, tall and monstrous in his truest form - wrought of shadow and old bone, his wings hunched tight against the low ceiling, scraping stone as they twitched.The air thrummed with old power. The kind that didn’t belong to the world above.Nyxar didn’t flinch.And before them in one moment the gate was gone. No fire. No rupture. No tearing in the fabric of the world. Just… closed. Like it had never been there at all.Nyxar’s chest was a war dru
Lyra POV - Dawn The sky held no warmth when morning came.It broke over the horizon like a blade - pale and cold, slicing through the hush that had settled over the city. No birds sang. No bells rang. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.Lyra stood alone in the highest tower, watching the first light seep into the edges of the world. The city still slept below, curled into itself like a creature trying to heal. She could see the rooftops where ivy climbed, the market square where sweetbread had been shared, the fountains where pups had splashed. All the places that had made her heart ache the night before.Her eyes were dry now. Her chest hollowed and quiet, the way it always felt after grief had burned itself down to embers.The shirt she’d held all night was gone. Folded. Left behind. Like a prayer she couldn’t take with her.She wasn’t bringing Kane into this. This was hers to carry. This was her moment to end what First Queen couldn't. Gave up what gods turn her into.The rit
Lyra POVThe city pulsed like a living thing.Not with war drums or warning horns, not with screams or smoke. But with something gentler. Steadier. Like a heartbeat finding its rhythm again after the chaos had passed.She walked its cobbled streets alone, the sky soft and bruised with dusk, her cloak drawn close against the cool wind.She didn’t want to be recognized.Tonight, she wasn’t the Queen. Not the warrior. Not the widow.She was just a woman - a ghost, maybe - drifting through the bones of a city that had outlived too much death.The streets were cracked and uneven where the stone had split from the last quake. Ivy had begun to creep over the ruins. Not the kind born of darkness and shadow like before - but living ivy. Green. Hopeful. Unafraid.It clung to burned-out walls, softening them. Claiming them.And everywhere she looked, life had begun again.A child ran past her, barefoot and shrieking with laughter, trailing a cloth banner behind her like it was a cape. Another pu
Lyra POVThe embers still glowed behind her.Lyra didn’t look back.The scent of ash clung to her skin, tangled in her hair, curled in the back of her throat. Kane’s name lingered there, unspoken. His memory pulsed with every breath.But she did not allow it to take her. Not yet.Later, she told herself, jaw locked so tight it ached. I will mourn him later. When the war is done. When I am alone. When I am allowed to shatter.But not now.Now, there were still choices to be made. Kingdom to hold together. Monsters to face.And one of them waited for her in human form - standing beside another creature just as ancient, just as terrifying.She found them where the Hollow Grounds bled into the broken remnants of the forest - where the warded stones gave way to open earth and the burnt sky cracked with thin threads of gold.Ekreth stood with arms crossed, tall and impossibly still. The last rays of dusk caught the edges of him, casting long, sharp shadows at his feet.He had taken a human
Lyra POV The pyre stood at the edge of the Hollow Grounds, where even shadows seemed afraid to linger.Smoke curled upward in slow, lazy spirals, black against a bruised sky. The earth beneath Lyra’s boots felt scorched, barren - like it remembered too. The scent of charred wood, old blood, and unspoken goodbyes clung to the air, suffocating.She stood alone.The others waited behind the circle of warded stones, where the barrier shimmered like a ghost in the dying light. Not one of them crossed it. Not Nyxar, not Elara, not the witches who still whispered her name like a half-broken prayer. They knew this was not a moment meant to be witnessed.Grief, Lyra had learned, wasn’t something that could be comforted. It wasn’t something you wrapped in soft words or shared through tears. It was a blade, and she had been holding it for days - bleeding quietly from the inside.Now it was buried in her chest, where no one could see it but her.Kane’s body lay wrapped in his old wolfhide cloak
Lyra POV The battlefield had gone silent. Smoke drifted in slow spirals, carrying the scent of charred magic and iron. The fires were still burning, but no one moved to put them out. The witches stood frozen in their circles, eyes wide. Warriors clutched weapons they would never raise. Because all eyes were on her and on him. Kane knelt at the heart of the broken ring, cracked stone glowing with sigils that no longer pulsed. His hands dug into the earth, breath coming in ragged gasps, and his back arched in pain as the Harbinger’s presence writhed inside him - like a second heartbeat made of shadows and fire. But it was still Kane’s face. Still his eyes. Lyra stepped forward slowly. She couldn’t feel her feet. Couldn’t feel her hands. Only the pulsing ache in her chest - the last thread of their bond, frayed and bleeding. Ekreth stood to her right, arms folded, waiting like a vulture made of smoke and starlight. His wings curled inward as if to shield her from what came
Lyra POV The air reeked of blood and burning wards. From the highest spire, Lyra watched shadow creatures pour through the eastern breach - just as planned. Their forms rippled with unnatural grace, bones wrong beneath stretching skin, eyes like coals. The trap was set. Glyphs flared to life in a massive ring around the breach, turning the battlefield into a burning cage. And still they came. The creatures weren’t slowed by fire. They thrived in it. “Fall back to second line!” Elara shouted, sword dripping with black ichor. “Protect the witches! Get the civilians below-” A bolt of shadow tore past her and struck the ground at Lyra’s feet. The stone cracked. The heat of it sizzled against her skin even as she raised a shield instinctively. She spun. And there he was. Kane. No mask. No armor. Just him - worn leathers and that familiar, twisted expression of grief and rage. His eyes, however, were not his own. They blazed with the Harbinger’s mark - red, ringed in black. Hi
Harbinger POVThe darkness welcomed him like an old friend.It moved when he moved. Breathed when he breathed. Twined around his shoulders like a living mantle as he drifted through the ruins of the old forest temple, the shattered remnants of gods long forgotten crushed beneath his feet.Kane sat in the center of the stone circle, head bowed, sweat beading at his brow despite the cold. He hadn’t moved in hours.Still resisting.The Harbinger tilted his head, amused. He circled the boy slowly, boots making no sound on the broken marble. Kane’s energy flickered - unstable. Like a flame exposed to too much air.“You're unraveling,” the Harbinger said softly. His voice was silk over razors, ancient and echoing. “And still, you cling to her.”Kane’s jaw tightened. “I’m not yours.”The Harbinger crouched behind him, a whisper at his ear. “No. Not yet. But you will be.”A flick of power, and the circle of runes flared beneath them, casting everything in a red glow. Kane flinched but didn’t