Page 31

T he cave walls seemed to close in around us as we moved, the echoes of the nexus’s power still vibrating through the air. My hands trembled as I clutched the crimson tome against my chest, its pages thrumming with energy like a heart that had only just remembered how to beat.

Azrael led the way, his sword drawn, his posture rigid with tension.

Darius followed closely behind, his usual sharp tongue silenced by the weight of what we had just witnessed.

None of us spoke. The spirit’s warning still lingered in the silence, as if the cave itself refused to allow us to forget.

The council’s complete authority had been founded on a falsehood.

The war, one that reshaped the realm and birthed the world as we knew it, had not been won by the council. They had not ascended to power as saviours.

They orchestrated it. And now, I held the evidence in my hands.

The tunnel twisted sharply, and suddenly, the cold night air enveloped us as we stepped beyond the cave’s entrance.

The Obsidia sprawled out before us in eerie silence, the moon casting ghostly silver over the land.

For a moment, I simply breathed, filling my lungs with the crisp night air, willing my thoughts to settle.

Darius was the first to shatter the silence. “So, what happens

now?”

His voice was rough, as if he were forcing himself to speak

past the weight in his chest.

Azrael didn’t reply straight away. He sheathed his sword but

remained tense, his eyes scanning the molten, barren land as if expecting enemies to materialise from the shadows.

I swallowed hard, running my fingers over the leather-bound tome. “We unlock it,” I said. “The spirit claimed the knowledge was hidden, but it’s all here, within this book. We need to discover how to access it.”

Azrael turned to me, his expression inscrutable. “And what if the truth is more dreadful than we imagined?”

I met his gaze. “Then we shall deal with it.”

Darius scoffed, rubbing a hand over his face. “You speak as if it’s easy. We’ve only just discovered that the council has started a war that has reshaped the world, and you want to dig deeper? Who’s to say the next truth won’t be even worse?”

My grip tightened on the tome. “That’s precisely why we must uncover the truth. If we halt now, we’re just as culpable as they are. We know they constructed their empire on deceit, but if we fail to expose them, no one else will.”

Azrael exhaled slowly, his eyes still shrouded in uncertainty. Yet after a moment, he offered a slight nod.

“Then we’ll discover how to unlock it,” he said. “But we must proceed with caution.”

The wind howled over the scorched earth of Obsidia, carrying with it the scent of ash and something older, some- thing ancient.

The barren land stretched before us, a jagged landscape of blackened rock and molten veins that pulsed faintly beneath the cracked ground.

The crimson tome in my hands felt warm, warmer than it had been before.

It seemed as if it, too, could sense that we were approaching something significant. Something it had been anticipating.

Azrael stood beside me, his jaw clenched and his shoulders taut with tension. I knew him well enough to recognise when he was caught between instinct and restraint. Darius lingered a few steps behind, his unease apparent in the way his hand hovered near his weapon.

We had encountered danger before, but this was something entirely different.

This was the truth. And truth, as we had learned, was seldom kind.

I took a slow breath and glanced down at the book. “We ought to try now,” I said, my voice scarcely above a whisper.

Azrael’s gaze snapped to meet mine. “Here? Right now? Wouldn’t it be best to unlock the tome at my keep?”

“He is right, Elara. Who knows what creatures could be lurking to attack once they smell the hint of power?” Darius agrees.

I hesitate, my fingers tightening around the edges of the crimson tome. Darius had a point, this land reeked of ancient magic, of forgotten things that did not sleep. Yet something within me, a pull as old as the runes in this book, urged me that we couldn’t wait.

“The spirit told us that the knowledge was concealed for a reason,” I said slowly. “What if unlocking it necessitates this place? What if we require the magic here?”

Azrael exhaled, his gaze drifting over the blackened expanse of Obsidia. “And what if the magic here isn’t intended to help us?” His voice was low and cautious. “What if the council left something to guard it?”

A shiver ran down my spine, but I steeled myself to stand

taller. “Then we’ll deal with it.”

Darius groaned. “Why do you have to say that like it’s as

simple as breathing?”

I turned to face Darius. “Because if we don’t confront it ,

the council prevails. And if we delay too long, we forfeit any advantage we possess.”

Azrael regarded me for a long moment. The muscles in his jaw tensed, but at last, he gave a curt nod. “Very well,” he said.

“But we shall do this swiftly.”

I stepped forward and placed the tome on a large slab of

blackened stone, its runes glowing faintly. The instant it touched the surface, a low hum filled the air. I swallowed hard and pressed my palm against the cover.

The magic responded immediately.

A pulse of heat shot through my veins, burning but not painful. The runes along the book’s spine began to shift, rearranging themselves, unlocking something unseen. The molten veins in the ground pulsed brighter, as if the land itself was awakening.

Then whispers...

“You seek the truth, but the truth does not seek you.”

The voice echoed through the land, vibrating in my bones. Azrael’s sword was drawn in an instant.

“What was that?”

Darius took a step back, cursing. “Oh, that’s never a good sign.”

I grit my teeth, unwilling to part with the book. “Who are you?” I demand.

The voice did not answer directly. Instead, magic flared, and images flickered across my mind, shadows of a past buried beneath centuries of deceit.

I beheld the council’s chambers, the lofty pillars adorned with firelight. I noticed figures in dark robes assembled in a circle, murmuring incantations. And in the centre,

Kaelen.

I drew a sharp breath. He knelt, bound in chains that pulsed with the same cursed light as the tome. His head was bowed, his face obscured by dark, matted hair. He wasn’t a beast yet. Not fully.

But they were making him one.

His body convulsed as the magic seized him, his breathing ragged and uneven. He was resisting it, even then. Even as the power of the Council bore down on him like an iron weight. One of the robed figures stepped forward, their voice rising in incantation.

“For the strength of our dominion, we sacrifice the last of the old blood. Flesh to power, soul to darkness, body to war.”

“No,” I whisper, my fingers digging into the tome’s cover.

Kaelen let out a strangled sound, his arms trembling as he tried to lift himself from the stone. The magic swelled, a vortex of red and gold, until it broke,

And the beast was born.

I stumbled backwards, gasping as the vision faded, the force of it knocking me away from the book. Azrael manages to catch me before I hit the ground.

“Elara!” His grip was tight, steadying me.

Darius knelt beside me, his face unusually serious. “What did you see?”

I swallow hard, trying to steady my breath. My voice came out hoarse.

“It was Kaelen.” I look up, meeting Azrael’s eyes, the truth burning in my chest. “They made him into a beast. They sacrificed him.”

Azrael’s expression darkens, something unreadable flashing behind his gaze. He already knew the Council was responsible for horrors untold, but this? This was worse.

Darius lets out a low curse. “Well, that’s horrifying. And let me guess, the Council want him?”

I nod. “They don’t just want him, Darius.” I gesture to the tome, still thrumming with latent power. “They need him.”

Before I could respond, the ground beneath us trembled. The wind howled suddenly, a sharp, unnatural gust that sent dust spiralling into the air. The molten veins pulse in rapid succession, and the runes on the book burn brighter .

Darius swore, gripping his weapon. “Tell me that’s not what I think it is.”

Azrael turns sharply, his body going rigid. “Something’s coming.”

I barely have time to react before a shadow detaches itself from the runes on the cave entrance. A figure cloaked in darkness, moving with unnatural speed, stepping into the dim light of the molten land.

For a breathless moment, the world seemed the hold still. Then the figure lifts its hood.

A man stood before us, his face gaunt and sharp, his eyes burning with something otherworldly. He was older than us, but not by much, his skin marked with faint, shimmering runes.

But it was his voice that made my blood run cold.

“You should not have come here.”

The power radiating from him was wrong, ancient and unnatural, laced with the same dark energy I had seen in the vision.

Azrael steps forward, sword raised. “Who are you?”

The man tilts his head slightly, his gaze flicking toward the tome. Then, slowly, his lips curl into a sharp, knowing smile.

“A messenger,” he murmured. “And a warning.”

The wind howled louder, and the molten veins in the ground

cracked.

Everything exploded into chaos.