All Chapters of The Howling Throne: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

The weight of the Hollow Sanctum pressed down on them like a forgotten tomb. The air was thick with the scent of dust and decay, but beneath it, beneath the stillness, there was something else.A presence.Elior stood at the center of the chamber, his fingers tightening around the shard of the Veil. The power pulsing through it had led them here, but now that they had arrived, the path forward felt unclear.They had confirmed one truth: someone had been here before them.And whoever they were, they had taken something meant to remain hidden.Myrra knelt beside the pedestal, running her fingers over the deep grooves in the stone. “This wasn’t stolen in a hurry,” she murmured. “Whoever took it… they knew exactly what they were looking for.”Rael’s sharp gaze flicked toward the ground. “There are no footprints. No traces of movement. It’s like they walked through the dust without disturbing it.”Sienna exhaled, crossing her arms. “Or like they weren’t really here at all.”Bram scoffed. “

The ruins of Eldermoor trembled beneath them. Dust rained from the high stone vaults as a low, guttural rumble echoed through the underground archives, vibrating through Elior’s bones. Whatever had been disturbed, whatever had been named, was waking.“Move!” Elior barked.They turned and ran.The torches flickered violently, the air thickening with something unseen. Shadows stretched unnaturally along the walls, elongating, shifting. The deeper they had gone into the Obsidian Archives, the heavier the weight of the Veil’s remnants had pressed upon them. But now, it was lifting, like something had finally been let inside.Sienna ran ahead, her violet eyes wide, her breath sharp. She knew what was coming.Elior chased after her, the others close behind. The winding corridors of the archive twisted in unnatural ways, bookshelves seeming taller, the paths narrowing where they hadn’t before.“Something’s warping the space,” Myrra gasped, reaching out with her magic, her fingers glowing as

Elior stared into the flames, his thoughts tangled in the weight of what they had just uncovered. The Forgotten Hand had taken the key.Erythos, if that was truly the name of the shadowed figure, had seen him. And the Veil had not simply been shattered by his actions alone.But amidst all these revelations, something gnawed at the edge of his mind, a thread they had abandoned somewhere along the way. Myrra had spoken of starting with what they knew. Perhaps it was time to consider what they had chosen to forget.Sienna was the first to voice it."We keep chasing the next clue, the next piece of the puzzle," she murmured, her gaze locked onto the fire. "But why did we begin this journey in the first place?"The question lingered between them, heavy, unspoken. Elior looked up, finding his companions watching him now, waiting. The realization settled in his gut like a stone.Bram exhaled sharply. "The Crown."Silence stretched. It was the one truth they had never spoken of outright, the

The heat pressed down on them like a living thing.Elior had heard of the Whispering Wastes before, spoken of in cautionary tales, always with an uneasy glance toward the horizon. A stretch of barren desert where the air itself seemed to hum with voices from an age long past. Few crossed it and fewer still returned.And yet, here they were.The sand stretched endless before them, shifting in waves of pale gold beneath the scorching sun. Their footprints vanished almost as quickly as they were made, swallowed by the restless winds.Bram groaned, adjusting the scarf wrapped around his face. “Remind me again why all ancient kings decided to hide their secrets in places that want to kill us?”Rael, walking beside him, shot him a dry look. “Would you rather they left them in a marketplace?”“Honestly? Yes.”Sienna, ahead of them, turned slightly. “Less talking. More moving.”Myrra, scanning the horizon, frowned. “The inscriptions said the Ruins were beyond the Wastes, but they didn’t say h

Elior could still feel the whisper of the Second Crown against his fingertips, its weight impossibly light yet heavy with unseen purpose. As he stood before the pedestal, his breath steadying, he knew one truth, this was no ordinary artifact.This was a warning.Myrra’s golden eyes flicked between the Crown in Elior’s hands and the pedestal where it had rested for centuries. “It let you take it,” she murmured, as if still trying to believe what she had seen. “No test of strength. No riddle to solve.”Elior turned the Crown slowly, watching the way its silver glowed in the dim light. “It tested something else,” he said. “Something deeper.”Rael crossed his arms, his usual smirk absent. “You said the First King knew what would happen if we destroyed the Throne. That means we’re walking straight into something he feared.”Sienna was quiet, her violet gaze locked onto the Crown. “Then we need to understand what he saw,” she said. “If we’re going to change the future, we need to know what’