Page 52

KAELITH

I stand at the threshold of a chamber carved from black stone, every nerve in my body frayed with tension.

This place can’t possibly be real—it’s too perfect, too reminiscent of the grand halls Nerezza and I once imagined together.

Yet the polished obsidian floors gleam under torchlight, throwing back shifting reflections.

Pillars rise toward a vaulted ceiling etched with twisting glyphs.

I can feel the pulse of unnatural power in each carved symbol, taste the tang of chaos in the air.

The illusions cling to me, a half-formed haze that gnaws at my senses.

My runes flicker over my arms and torso, caught between wanting to petrify me for defense and sensing that no amount of stone can shield me from her .

Deep in my gut, I recognize I’m trapped in the heart of Nerezza’s domain—whether it’s a physical fortress or a labyrinth of illusions, I can’t tell.

My limbs remain too heavy to move freely. She has me pinned, body and mind.

At the far end of this hall, seated on a raised dais of obsidian, Nerezza reclines as though she’s empress of the universe.

Her dark hair drifts around her shoulders, shimmering with an eerie luster that defies natural light.

A crown of black spires circles her head, crackling with faint arcs of magic.

Those red eyes burn with an ancient hunger.

My heart thuds painfully, recalling the warm spark that once lived in those same eyes centuries ago.

She’s changed so much—and yet I see whispers of the woman I used to know.

Two twisted gargoyles flank her throne, their monstrous bodies a grotesque parody of my own race.

Their scaly skin is laced with throbbing veins of greenish energy, and their eyes glow with vacant malevolence.

One hisses at my approach, baring fangs that drip with black saliva.

I swallow, forcing myself not to recoil.

This is what Nerezza calls her brood—broken creatures enthralled to her chaos.

“Kaelith,” Nerezza greets, her voice reverberating across the chamber.

The moment I hear that familiar purr, my runes twinge with conflicting emotions—part revulsion, part sorrow.

She used to speak my name so lovingly. Now, there’s an undercurrent of triumph in her tone. A predator who’s cornered her prey.

Slowly, I approach the dais, each step echoing on the polished floor.

My wings remain partially furled, tail dragging.

She’s forced me here, illusions chipping away at my will.

Or perhaps I allowed myself to be led, believing I might spare Sariah.

The memory of Sariah’s tear-streaked face slashes through my mind.

A fresh wave of guilt floods me. I left her to Nerezza’s cruelty, all because I thought it would keep her safe.

Ridiculous. But at the time, illusions hammered me with visions of Sariah’s downfall, and I caved beneath the weight of my old guilt.

I stop at the foot of the dais. The oppressive aura of chaos hangs like a suffocating miasma. My runes spark, as if trying to protect me from some unseen onslaught. I grit my teeth, forcing my voice not to shake. “You’ve brought me here. Now what?”

Nerezza’s crimson lips curl in a slow smile, revealing just a hint of fang.

She leans forward, resting her chin on her hand.

“Now we talk, beloved gargoyle.” Her robes rustle, shimmering with oily darkness.

“I’ve waited centuries for you to stand willingly at my side.

Our bond was never truly broken, only deferred. ”

I flinch. Our bond? We had a bond once, yes, but I shattered it by sealing us both away.

My chest constricts with memory: the day I laid down my arms, forging a stone tomb to entrap her and myself, believing the world safer with us both gone.

“That bond died the moment you twisted my kin into abominations,” I manage, voice rough.

“I stand before you only because you forced illusions upon me.”

She arcs one delicate brow. “Forced illusions? Hardly. I merely showed you the truth—how your little purna might follow my path, how Drayveth condemns her as the next Nyxari. Weren’t you desperate to protect her from such a fate?

Didn’t you come here willingly to ensure her safety? ” Her eyes gleam with cunning triumph.

My wings tense, tail flicking in agitation.

She’s partially right. I recall how I stumbled from Sariah’s side, illusions whispering that I could save her by yielding.

Heat prickles my cheeks with shame. “I—” My runes flare, betraying my internal conflict.

“She’s safer if I stand between you and her. That’s all.”

Nerezza laughs, a musical yet hollow sound.

“Stand between us? Such hubris. I can end your purna with a flick of my magic. Or I can let her live in peace, so long as you serve me.” She drapes an arm across the throne’s armrest, exuding a languid dominance.

“You are the deciding factor, Kaelith. The pivot upon which her fate rests. So let’s abandon false hostility.

Join me. Let’s reclaim the dream we once shared. ”

My mind reels. The dream. We envisioned a future where gargoyles and purna coexisted in harmony, forging alliances stronger than any dark elf tyranny.

But she found chaos, used it, and turned it into a weapon of unimaginable devastation.

My chest twists with sorrow. This is not the woman I loved.

She’s become a parody of that bright young purna, devoured by her own lust for power.

But illusions swirl around me still, making me doubt.

Could there be a shred of her old self in that voice?

I swallow hard, meeting her gaze. “You talk of forging alliances, but you’re the one ordering your brood to slaughter entire covens. You annihilate any who oppose you. That’s not the dream I remember.” My voice trembles with a mix of anger and heartbreak.

Her eyes flash with cold fire. “Opposition must be crushed. Resistance invites anarchy. If Protheka kneels to me, then I can shape it into a haven for our kind—gargoyle and purna alike.” She lets out a soft, mocking sigh.

“But you sealed me, forced me to extremes. Look at the cost of your betrayal. We should have shaped Protheka together, Kaelith.”

I rake a hand through my hair, runes prickling with frustration. “No,” I say, voice low. “We should have strived for peace without warping souls or turning gargoyles into thralls. I never betrayed you. You betrayed the dream by delving into chaos magic that slaughtered innocents.”

A flicker of old pain crosses her face—so quick I doubt it was real.

“I sought power to protect your species, and they scorned me. They let fear turn me into a demon in their eyes. You scorned me as well, eventually.” She rises from the throne, descending the dais in a swirl of black robes.

Her steps echo with quiet authority. “But I can forgive that if you join me now, help me bring unity under my rule. Even Drayveth’s petty coven will kneel or perish.

As for your precious Sariah—” She waves a hand dismissively, “I won’t meddle with her if you remain loyal. ”

My heart stutters. She’s dangling Sariah’s life as a bargaining chip.

The illusions swirl again, reminding me of Sariah’s tearful face, the brand on her wrist glowing with heartbreak.

I left her. Guilt collides with longing, forging a raw ache in my chest. My runes flare, a wave of warmth suffusing me—like a distant echo of the synergy Sariah and I once shared.

Is it possible I can still tap into that?

Nerezza closes the distance, her eyes boring into mine.

“Look at me, Kaelith. I can be everything we once were. Our synergy could surpass even what you shared with that child.” Her voice dips, sensual and insidious.

She raises a hand, trailing it across my jaw.

The contact feels like a live wire, half revulsion, half memory of gentler times. My wings twitch in confusion.

A momentary longing surges—I remember how I adored her laughter, the promises we made.

But a deeper truth slams into me: That woman is gone.

The illusions in her presence flicker, revealing glints of monstrous cunning beneath her once-radiant features.

My stomach churns. I see flashes of the brood, of scorched villages, of gargoyles twisted in her thrall.

This is not the woman I once loved. She’s a phantom wearing the face of a memory, a shadow that perverted our dream.

She senses my hesitation, illusions intensifying.

The polished floor ripples with half-formed scenes from centuries past: us dancing on a stone balcony under a triple moonlit sky, me brandishing a sword while she conjured flames in a triumphant display after our first victory.

My chest throbs with heartbreak, but I steel myself. These illusions can’t replace reality.

Somewhere deep inside, a memory of Sariah rises—her fierce gray eyes, her trembling brand as she fought to keep me alive.

She risked everything for me. She shared her magic, her body, her soul.

The memory resonates, a surging wave that crashes through the illusions swirling around me.

My runes pulse brighter, recalling the synergy Sariah and I forged.

That is real. That is my future, not this decayed echo of a false past.

A strangled cry escapes my throat as I jerk away from Nerezza’s touch. “Enough,” I snarl, runes blazing with sudden intensity. My tail lashes the obsidian floor, sending sparks across the polished surface.

She recoils, a glimmer of shock flickering in her crimson eyes. “What?—?”

I clench my claws, forcing the illusions to recoil. My mind sears with renewed clarity, each heartbeat stoking the memory of Sariah’s unwavering devotion. I promised to protect her. Instead, I fled, letting illusions dictate my choices. No more.