Page 35

T he silence that followed our escape from Ebonshade was heavy, charged with unspoken thoughts. The firelight flickered against the stone walls of Azrael’s keep, casting elongated shadows over the room as we gathered our breath.

“We need to go back.” My voice was firm despite the exhaustion in my bones. “We can’t leave them there. Not like that.”

Azrael pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling sharply. “Elara, if we rush in without a plan, we’re dead. That was

barely a battle, we were prey to them.”

Darius leaned against the bookshelf, rubbing his temple.

“For once, I hate to agree with him, but he’s right. That was not a fight; that was us surviving. We need more than just a good intention.”

I clenched my fists. “Then we find a way to fight back.”

Azrael’s gaze flicked between us before he slowly nodded. “We need allies. And creatures that can match the power Withers and Kaelen now wield.”

I frowned. “You mean summoning an army?”

“Not just any army.” Azrael stepped forward, his eyes dark with determination.

“We need the forgotten clans. The ones who turned their backs on the world with the Great War ended centuries ago. The Lycans of the Ashen Wilds, the Nightborne Fae of the Silver Glades, and the Revenant Knights from the Ruined Sanctum. They swore never to interfere again, but if we can convince them...”

Darius whistled low. “That’s a long shot. The Lycans don’t trust anyone, the Nightborne Fae play their own twisted games, and the Revenant Knights? They follow nothing but the call of vengeance.”

I crossed my arms. “We don’t have a choice. We bring them into this fight or lose before it even begins.”

Now, the Lycans of the Ashen Wilds are fierce, battle- hardened warriors, standing around 6 feet 5 inches tall with muscular builds.

Their armour, made from dark steel and wolf pelts, is protective and intimidating, adorned with a snarling wolf symbol.

Armed with massive weapons like a great-axe shaped like wolf jaws, they are swift and deadly in combat.

Their wolf-grey hair and golden eyes reflect their primal nature.

Loyal and unyielding, they protect their territory and pack with fierce determination, howling as a symbol of their power.

The Nightborne Fae of the Silver Glades are ethereal beings, standing around 5 feet 8 inches tall with slender, graceful builds.

Their skin is pale and shimmering, and their glowing violet or midnight-blue eyes hold an enchanting, dangerous allure.

With long, flowing silver or black hair and pointed ears, they exude an air of mystery.

Their armour is crafted from enchanted silver and dark leather, adorned with moon, star, and rune symbols, allowing agility and blending with the shadows.

These Fae wield dark magic, drawing power from the Silver Glades to manipulate shadows, create dark energy weapons, and ensnare minds with illusions.

They are masters of the night, elusive and deadly.

The Revenant Knights from the Ruined Sanctum stand 7 feet tall, with skeletal, gaunt forms shrouded in ancient,

decaying armour. Their hollow skulls hide any human features, and their armour is dark steel, engraved with faded runes and adorned with spikes.

They wield cursed weapons, large, cruel swords or spiked maces etched with glowing sigils.

Their shields are imbued with spirits, weakening enemies.

These spectral warriors are bound to the sanctum, embodying vengeance and loss, guarding the ruins with relentless, silent duty.

These are powerful creatures; we need them.

I turn to look at Azrael; he looks... uncomfortable.

Azrael hesitated. “There is one more thing.”

Darius raised an eyebrow. “Oh, this should be good.” Azrael took a deep breath, his gaze flickering toward the

stone beneath us. “I have...a weapon. One that has remained dormant for centuries, hidden beneath this keep, in the volcano’s heart.”

I stiffened. “A weapon?”

Azrael hesitated, then exhaled. “A dragon.”

Silence crashed down upon the room. Darius choked on

nothing, his eyes wide. “I’m sorry, you have a what?”

Azrael’s expression remained serious. “A dragon. A primor-

dial one, from before the time of men. The first warlocks bound it in a deep slumber beneath this keep. It is untamed, unpredictable, and immensely powerful. If we wake it... It could turn the tide of this war.”

I stared at him. “And you never thought to mention this before?”

Azrael’s jaw tightened. “Because if I wake it and we can’t control it, we are as good as dead. It does not serve. It does not obey. It is chaos itself. It was tamed centuries ago, waiting to be used for the Great War, but why they didn’t use it is a mystery.”

Darius ran a hand down his face. “So, let me get this straight. We have to convince three groups of people who hate us to join our war, and our backup plan is releasing a god-damn dragon that might kill us instead of our enemies?”

Azrael’s lips quirked in something that wasn’t quite a smile. “That about sums it up. ”

I exhaled, letting the weight of it settle over me. “Then we need to start now. I shall also return to Lunairis and find Bastian, a brilliant swordsman and trusty captain. Let’s hope the Darkness hasn’t consumed him.”

Azrael nodded. “Then let’s prepare. Because once we begin, there’s no turning back.”

The war council had begun.

We gathered around the great wooden table in Azrael’s keep, a massive, ancient thing covered in faded maps and worn tomes. The weight of what we were about to attempt pressed down on all of us, but there was no time for doubt.

Azrael straightened, his gaze sweeping over the table.

“We will need to divide our efforts. Elara, you will go to Lunairis and find Bastian. If he still breathes, he will fight for us. Darius, you will seek out the Lycans of the Ashen Wilds. They value strength above all. You will have to prove yourself to them.”

Darius let out a low groan. “Fantastic. Nothing like almost dying to earn someone’s respect.”

Azrael ignored him and continued, his tone sharp with urgency.

“I will travel to the Ruined Sanctum and attempt to persuade the Revenant Knights. They answer only to vengeance, but we can offer them a war worth fighting. And as for the Nightborne Fae...” His gaze flickered to me.

“Elara, you have the best chance at gaining their favour. They respect power and the promise of chaos, and you can offer them both.”

I nodded. “I’ll make sure they listen.”

Azrael’s jaw tightened. “And while we’re doing this, I will attempt to wake the dragon beneath the keep. If we fail to gather enough forces, it may be our only hope.”

The room fell into a heavy silence. Even with our resolve, the risks loomed high above us. But we had no choice.

Darius exhaled sharply. “Alright. We split up, recruit some terrifying warriors, and then come back to deal with the hell- spawn in Ebonshade. Sounds easy. ”

Azrael shot him a dry look. “Try not to get yourself killed.” Darius smirked. “No promises.”

With the plan in place, we dispersed to prepare. But as I

made my way through the stone corridors, a familiar presence stopped me in my tracks.

Azrael stood in the dimly lit hallway, leaning against the cool stone wall. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes, something restless.

“Elara,” he said quietly, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it. I hesitated before stepping closer. “What is it?”

His fingers flexed at his sides as though waging a silent

war with himself. Then, before I could react, he reached out, catching my wrist. His warm and grounding grip sent a shiver up my spine.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen,” he admitted, his voice low. “If we fail, if the dragon destroys us, if Withers and Kaelen win, ”

I cut him off by stepping into him, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off his body. “We’re not going to fail.”

His breath hitched, and for a moment, I saw the conflict warring behind his dark eyes. Then, as if something in him snapped, he crushed his lips against mine.

It was desperate, unrelenting, and filled with all the emotions he never spoke aloud.

His hands gripped my waist, pulling me flush against him, and I tangled my fingers in his hair, refusing to let go.

The world outside the corridor faded. The war, the dragon, the impossible battle ahead, all of it ceased to exist in that moment.

When we finally broke apart, his forehead rested against mine. His voice was hoarse when he spoke. “When this is over...”

I swallowed hard. “Then we’ll see what’s left of us.”

He exhaled shakily, pressing a lingering kiss to my forehead before stepping back. “Stay alive, Elara.”

I smirked, trying to lighten the moment. “You too. ”

He chuckled softly, but the weight of what lay ahead lingered between us.

As he turned to head toward the volcano’s heart, I watched him go, my heart hammering in my chest. There was no more room for hesitation. We had a war to win, and I would fight until my last breath to see it through.

The journey to gather our allies began at dawn. Each of us set out in different directions, carrying the weight of our mission. The fate of this war depended on our ability to convince the forgotten clans that their time of isolation had ended.

Darius’s path led him deep into the Ashen Wilds, where the air was thick with the scent of damp earth, and the howls of unseen predators echoed in the distance.

The Lycans did not take kindly to trespassers, and it was not long before he found himself surrounded by towering warriors, their golden eyes gleaming in the moonlight.

“State your purpose,” growled the largest among them, his great-

axe resting heavily on his shoulder.

Darius met his gaze without flinching. “We need warriors. And I

hear you value strength more than all else.”

A rumble of laughter spread through the pack, dark and amused.

“And you think you’re strong enough to earn our allegiance?” Without hesitation, Darius dropped his weapons and raised his

fists. “Try me.”

What followed was a brutal, merciless test of endurance and skill.

The Lycans did not hold back, and neither did he. Bloodied and battered, Darius stood his ground until the pack leader finally called for a halt.

“You fight like a wolf,” he admitted, eyes gleaming with newfound respect. “Very well. We will lend our claws to your war.”

My own path took me into the Silver Glades, where the very air shimmered with illusion and whispers of unseen figures curled around my ears. The Nightborne Fae were tricksters, masters of deception, and they did not make deals lightly.

A figure emerged from the shadows, her silver hair flowing like mist, violet eyes watching me with eerie intensity. “Oh look, the Queen of Lunairis dares to step into our domain,” she mused.

“Why?”

“I bring an offer,” I said, meeting her gaze. “War is coming, and I

know you crave chaos. Fight with us, and you’ll have a battlefield drenched in moonlight and blood.”

She smiled, slow and knowing. “And what will you give us in return?”

I knew better than to offer them gold or power, they had no use for such things. Instead, I reached into my satchel and pulled out a vial of starlit essence, one of the rarest magical artifacts in existence.

Her eyes gleamed. “Interesting.”

A hush fell over the Glades as the Fae deliberated. Then, finally, the silver-haired woman stepped forward. “We accept. But remember your majesty, our allegiance is fleeting. If you bore us, we will leave.”

It was a risk I was willing to take.

Azrael’s path led him to the Ruined Sanctum, a place of death and lingering vengeance. The Revenant Knights did not welcome the living, and their silent, hollow gazes bore into him as he stood before their captain.

“We do not fight for the living,” the skeletal figure intoned. “Only for vengeance.”

Azrael met his gaze, voice low and unyielding. “Then I bring you the greatest vengeance of all. Those who defile your lands, who have twisted death into something unnatural, they stand against us. Help us, and you will have your justice.”

A long silence stretched between them before the captain lifted his cursed sword. “Then let this war be one of reckoning.”

Finding Bastian was my most personal mission, and as I flew into Lunairis, my heart pounded with uncertainty.

The realm had not yet fallen to the darkness, but shadows lurked at its edges.

I found him in the training yard, his sword flashing under the sun, his movements as sharp and precise as I remembered.

When he turned and saw me, relief and something deeper flickered in his eyes. “Elara.”

“You’re still here,” I breathed, unable to hide my relief. “Still yourself.”

His expression darkened. “For now. But the shadows grow bolder. Tell me why you’ve come.”

I told him everything, the war, the allies we had gathered, and the battle yet to come. He listened without interruption, his grip on his sword tightening.

When I finished, he nodded once. “Then I will fight by your side, as I always have.”

A breath I hadn’t realised I was holding escaped me. “Thank you, Bastian.”

His smile was grim but warm. “Let’s make sure this isn’t our last battle.”

With our allies secured, we returned to Azrael’s keep, our forces stronger than before. But the most significant challenge still lay ahead, the dragon’s awakening. And with it, the uncertain future of us all.