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Enith nods, tears glinting in his eyes. “Go.”

We hurry to the window, shoving it open. The smell of charred parchment and blood lingers. My heart thumps sickly inmy chest.We came for answers, and we got half of them along with an entire battalion on our trail.

Malphas helps me climb onto the ledge. The drop is dizzying—maybe two stories of worn stone. Shadows shift in the alley below. He leaps first, illusions flickering around his wings as he lands in a crouch. I follow, swallowing a shriek as I plummet, knees buckling on impact. Pain flares in my thighs, but I manage not to collapse.

He steadies me with a hand under my elbow, glancing up at the window. Distant shouts echo from inside. We must be gone before more arrive. Panting, we dart through the winding alley, stepping over crates and refuse. My mind reels with what I’ve heard: my survival might unleash chaos, and the monarchy is more than willing to burn half the district to stop me.

When we reach a deserted courtyard, we slow, pressing into an alcove behind a defunct fountain. Malphas’s illusions swirl unsteadily, re-forming to hide his horns. My pulse remains frantic, sweat slicking my skin.We nearly died up there.

I round on him, fury igniting. “You let me believe it was just your contract at stake. The entire city is in danger if the monarchy hunts me like this. They’ll level everything.”

He meets my glare, eyes narrowed. “I didn’t withhold that to harm you. You can barely handle the knowledge of your lineage as it is.”

My chest tightens. “You said you’d protect me, but you left out the part where armies would march to exterminate me! Don’t I have the right to know how dire this is?”

His jaw works, frustration clear. “Yes, you do. And now you do. That changes nothing about our plan.”

“It changes everything!” I snap, voice echoing in the deserted courtyard. “My entire life, I’ve been told humans are worthless. Now I’m some pivotal figure in an ancient prophecy? Don’t you think that might weigh on me?”

He exhales, clenching his fists. For a moment, he looks exhausted, shoulders sagging as though the weight of centuries is pressing him down. “You’re not the only one with burdens. My contract?—”

“Your contract.” I laugh bitterly. “It always comes back to that. But guess what, Malphas? I’m not just a tool to break your chains. I’m a person. This city was my prison for years, and if they find me, they’ll kill me, or kill anyone who stands with me.”

“Then we avoid them,” he says, a ragged edge to his voice. “We use every resource Enith gave us, find the clue to harness your Abyssborn blood, and free me—freeusfrom the monarchy’s threat.”

A swirl of conflicting rage and empathy tears through me. I recall how he pinned me last night, how I glimpsed the raw fear behind his eyes when the contract twinged. Part of me wants to lash out, blame him for dragging me into deeper dangers. Another part recognizes that we’re trapped together in this cosmic game.Neither of us asked for these powers.

I pinch the bridge of my nose, struggling to steady my breathing. “Fine. We keep moving. But if you ever keep vital truths from me again?—”

He lifts a hand, palm up, as though offering a silent oath. “No more secrets,” he murmurs, voice low.

I hold his gaze. The illusions flicker, revealing the faint glow of his molten veins. He’s battered, scraped, and splattered with demon gore, yet a fierce determination remains in his stance. Something twists in my gut—a mixture of reluctant trust and the memory of our shared desire. A desire I can’t afford to indulge while a city hunts me like a rabid dog.

“I’ll hold you to that,” I say finally. My voice shakes, but I refuse to show weakness.

He nods, tension rippling across his broad shoulders. “We need to find a safer hideout. The archivist gave you that wooden case—there might be clues inside.”

I pat the case in my coat pocket, the hammered brass edges digging into my fingertips. “Yes. Let’s hope it’s worth all this bloodshed.”

A distant crash resounds from the direction of the bakery. Shouts in elven ring through the night. My heart leaps. “We have to go,” I say, scanning the alley that leads deeper into the mid-tier. “They’ll search the entire district soon.”

Malphas motions for me to follow. “The illusions will help us slip away. Stay close.”

We rush from the courtyard, weaving through narrow lanes. Each footstep jolts my sore ribs, but I push aside the pain. My mind reels with the archivist’s final warnings—my existence might unleash chaos. That prophecy about demonkind either being freed or doomed by my choice.Is that truly on me?

Glancing at Malphas’s tense expression, I recall the battered horn I touched in the fortress, the anguish he’s endured. Part of me yearns to help him, not just for survival but because I’ve glimpsed the burden he bears. Another part remains angry that he used me as a pawn. Yet we have no choice now but to stand side by side.

We vanish into the maze of Vhoig, illusions wrapping around us in a cloak of secrecy. Though my body trembles with exhaustion and my mind writhes in confusion, one thing is certain: the monarchy won’t stop until they claim my head and chain Malphas again. I can’t allow that. Not after everything I’ve endured, not after discovering there might be a power in my veins that can break the unbreakable.

The words from the archivist echo one last time:The monarchy will scorch entire districts to find you.I swallow, steeling myself. If my survival truly heralds chaos, then so beit. I’d rather fight on my own terms than lie down and let them sacrifice me again. Malphas’s presence burns at my side, a dangerous ally with everything to gain or lose from my actions.

We plunge deeper into the city’s underbelly, pursued by unseen foes. My heart pounds with fear and fury, torn between betrayal and desperate hope. I grit my teeth, promising myself I’ll unearth the truth behind my heritage. If I’m Abyssborn, then I’ll decide what that means—no prophecy or monarchy can chain me without a fight.

Darkness envelops us, the hum of illusions and the faint patter of distant footsteps our constant companions. And so begins our next battle: outrunning the King’s hounds, forging a path to the unknown power lurking in my blood. If chaos looms, I’ll meet it with sword raised, determined to carve out freedom—even if it shatters the foundations of Vhoig itself.

12

MALPHAS