Page 2 of Darkness and Deceit (Obsidian Academy #2)

One

AUGUSTUS

The Balance is constant—always present, always pulsing beneath the skin of the world. It does not sleep. It shifts in echoing rhythms, steady in some eras, volatile in others.

Lately, though, it trembles. As though the realm itself is holding still, waiting to exhale.

As a Keeper, I am attuned to its shifts.

I am trained to recognize the signs before tremors become quakes, before magic overflows its bounds.

We are taught to listen with more than ears—to feel the hum beneath the surface, the subtle vibration that warns when the Balance begins to fray.

Our duty is not to command, but to guide.

To steady the current before it becomes a flood.

But what I have felt recently is not some subtle shift in flow. It is not the natural sway of magic responding to conflict or change.

This is something deeper.

Something ancient, now stirring from its slumber.

And we must uncover the source.

We have always known the Balance to be temperamental, but manageable. That is why we—the Keepers—exist: to guard its thresholds, to ensure magic flows but never floods. To hold the scales before they tip too far into light or dark.

But lately... we have been steadying more than ever.

Whispers ripple through the realm. Places long dormant now seethe with strange energy. Tethers fray. Shadows gather.

The hum of the Balance grows louder in my mind as I sit cross-legged within the temple, eyes closed, surrounded by a sea of flickering candles. It threads through my bones like a low vibration, and my spine straightens on instinct. Despite a few grounding breaths, the feeling lingers.

This is not merely another disturbance in the current.

It is personal.

It brushes against my skin like a chill wind, wraps itself around me, curious and coaxing. It urges surrender, not submission. Connection. Rarely do I hear its call this clearly.

So I wait.

I sit in hope, listening, yearning for some shred of direction.

It draws nearer, teasing the edges of my awareness. Its whispers grow louder, more insistent, until?—

“Augustus.”

My name echoes through the air, dragging me back from the trance. My body stiffens at the sound. I exhale softly, tension lingering in my chest. It is rare for a Keeper to be disturbed within the sacred temple, and that alone tells me that whatever news awaits me must be bad.

Slowly, I open my eyes.

My gaze falls upon my grandmother. She stands at the entrance, framed by the flickering light of a thousand candles.

The towering temple walls rise behind her, casting long shadows and putting into perspective how small we truly are.

She wears the deep royal blue tunic of the Keepers, its rich fabric cascading to her knees.

Her silver hair is drawn back neatly, revealing her sharp eyes, now fixed upon me.

Shadows dance across her dark skin as she waits, still and silent.

Something is wrong. Very wrong.

I rise in a single, fluid motion. Without hesitation, I walk the stone path to her side.

Outside, the sun greets us with a blaze of heat.

The air is thick, stifling. The desert surrounding the Court stretches in every direction, merciless and bare.

The white-stone walls of the Court shimmer in the sunlight, stark against the endless dunes.

Even the polished ground beneath my feet radiates heat, searing through my shoes with each hurried step.

“Grave news has reached us,” my grandmother murmurs, her voice too calm to trust. “We believe we have found the location of two Duals. One is confirmed. The other... speculated.”

My body goes rigid.

A discovery of this nature is nothing short of catastrophic.

Throughout history, only a handful of Duals have ever surfaced, and every one of them has left the Balance scarred in their wake.

Some are known only through fragmented records, buried deep in restricted archives.

Others were whispered about in the oldest Keeper training halls—cautionary tales dressed as legend.

Calling forth both Predator and Prey is not merely uncommon—it defies the natural order. It is a force beyond control, untamed and wild.

It demands a level of power the realm itself seems ill-equipped to withstand.

The Balance, delicate by design, was never meant to hold such contradiction in a single vessel. It strains beneath the weight of Dual magic. Frays at the edges. And when it frays, the world begins to unravel.

That is why the Keepers exist. To steady what was never meant to tilt so far. To act as sentinels when the Balance shifts beyond recognition. And lately, it has shifted more often than we can keep up with.

“Where?” I ask, my voice tighter than intended.

“Obsidian Academy,” she replies. “As one might expect. Such an incident could only arise at one of our most promising institutions.”

Of course.

The Academy is a melting pot of potential. Where brilliance and disaster are often separated by the thinnest thread. If a Dual were to awaken anywhere, it would be there. And if left unchecked...

The Balance will not survive another fracture.

As we enter the Court, towering white columns flank us, supporting a ceiling etched with gold-leaf depictions of the realm’s most storied Predators and Preys.

Other Keepers move through the hall with swift precision, their blue robes stark against the marble.

The news has already spread—too fast to contain.

Whispers fly through sacred halls like wildfire.

Protectors move in tandem at their sides, silent shadows cloaked in black, marked by the sigils that bind them to their Keepers.

Every Keeper is braced for action. Every Protector is ready to kill.

We are past theory. Past whispers. Rogue attacks have pushed the Balance to the edge, and now… this. One confirmed Dual. One speculated.

I follow my grandmother down the final stretch of corridor, her footsteps steady against the polished stone.

The council chamber is circular and stripped of warmth. White marble floors, high ceilings, and no decoration beyond what is necessary. Twelve elders sit evenly spaced in identical thrones, all carved from the same pale stone. There are no cushions. No comfort.

Sigils are etched into the floor beneath them, pulsing faintly.

Behind each elder stands a Protector, rigid and silent. Their hands are clasped behind their backs, weapons holstered but ready.

My grandmother does not speak. She simply gestures to the empty space beside her.

I am not supposed to stand here for another five years.

But protocol, like everything else, fractures when the Balance does.

Malissa, the High Keeper of our temple, is the first to speak. Her presence alone is enough to silence the room, but she waits for the last echo of footsteps to still before she begins.

She leans forward, elbows braced on the arms of her throne-like seat. Her pale, nearly colorless eyes sweep the chamber, pausing not just on each Keeper but on the Protectors behind them—an unspoken reminder that every word here could become an order of life or death.

Exhaustion clings to her like a second skin, deepening the lines at her mouth and brow, but her gaze never loses its focus. It cuts through the chamber like a blade.

“You have all heard what has happened,” she begins, her voice quiet but firm. “One Dual has been confirmed. The second is suspected to be in the same location.”

The words land with visible force. A ripple passes through the room—a dozen different instincts to react, each suppressed out of habit or discipline. Some lean forward in interest, others glance sidelong at their peers, wary of who will speak first and how their response might be perceived.

Clarke, one of the more vocal elders, narrows his eyes.

He is a man carved with sharp edges, with a mind honed on protocol and precedent, and his skepticism is as obvious as the bristling of a wolf ’s hackles.

“Suspected by whom? We cannot afford conjecture on a matter such as this. We must proceed with caution.”

Malissa meets his gaze, unflinching. “The Dual girl claims to have seen Magnus.”

Magnus. The name lands like a blow, shattering the fragile poise of the room.

For a heartbeat, even the Protectors behind us seem to tense, as if an old threat might materialize from thin air.

I taste bile, sharp and metallic, in the back of my throat.

To speak his name aloud is to invite a reckoning—a risk Malissa does not take lightly.

Once Obsidian’s pride. A radiant force among the Protectors. Unmatched in skill, unmatched in potential. But brilliance, left unchecked, does not always lead to greatness.

At first, he drifted. Then he ruptured everything. And when he did, entire regions fell with him, plunging into chaos. The Balance reeled, and the Keepers who survived spent years patching the holes left behind.

The Darkness, by all accounts, is said to be neutral—an old force, a balance of its own. But that balance is delicate. One misstep and it begins to warp. Then it spreads like a sickness.

A Keeper’s greatest fear is not death, but dissolution: the slow unraveling of the self, the corruption of what was once pure and whole.

“When the scales tip,” Malissa continues, voice like a recitation of ancient scripture, “the Balance answers in kind. Chaos for chaos. Blood for blood.”

The words echo in my mind. They’re etched into the marrow of every Keeper since childhood. Every lesson, every punishment, every whispered rumor was meant to drive that simple truth home. We hold harmony by the smallest margin. One flicker of instability could cascade into ruin.

Now, that ruin has a name. Two names, if the council is to be believed.

Clarke is not mollified. “And we trust this girl?” he presses, voice sharp. “What is her name?”

“Lilith Knight,” Malissa replies.

My grandmother’s eyes narrow. “Knight? The daughter of Theodore Knight?”

The name hangs heavily in the chamber. Everyone seems to inhale at the same time. Even the Protectors, stoic sentinels that they are, lean forward.

Theodore Knight, the legendary Protector, the man believed to have ended Magnus. The records claim the breach was closed, the threat destroyed. How, exactly, remains sealed in silence. The details were redacted. The stories, contradictory.

But one truth endures: when the Balance trembled, it was Theodore who stood at its edge. And whatever he did… the world believed it was enough.

His name carries weight because no one speaks of what it cost.

Malissa raises her hand, and the murmurs die instantly.

“She claims to have seen Magnus alive,” she says. “We have reached out to Theodore, but received no answer. He has never spoken of what happened the day Magnus fell. Whether by vow, trauma, or deeper obligation... his silence has always stood unquestioned.”

She pauses, gaze sweeping the chamber.

“Now, that silence has come undone.”

It is Clarke who speaks next, always the first to test for weaknesses.

“We are being asked to stake the Balance on the word of a young girl. And a Dual, at that. The daughter of a man whose allegiances are now in question, given his refusal to answer summons. If Magnus lives, if this is not merely a spectral echo—then what guarantee do we have that the girl is not an extension of his will? That she is not a decoy sent to infiltrate, to fracture us from within?”

A few heads nod, reluctantly. Some seem to flinch at the thought, but none refute it outright.

My grandmother’s voice cuts through the rising tension, clear and low. “You presume much, Clarke. Lilith has yet to even complete her first term among the academy. You think Magnus would use a pawn so untried?”

“Desperation breeds innovation,” Clarke replies. “We have seen it before.”

Malissa holds up both hands, palms outward. “Enough. We do not know what we do not know.” Her gaze sweeps the chamber, sharp and unwavering. “Let me remind you all: Balance above belief. Vigilance before trust. ”

As one, we echo: “Balance above all.”

“Now, each temple will send a Keeper to the Academy to serve as a watchful eye,” Malissa says. “Thirteen chances to steady what now threatens to tip. We cannot afford to falter.”

She pauses, then gestures toward a cluster of Keepers standing apart from the others. “From our temple, we have selected Keeper Mara, Keeper Soren, and Keeper Elide.”

Her gaze sweeps the chamber until it lands on me. Her eyes pierce through me, as if stripping away everything I use to steady myself.

“But we need more than oversight. We need insight,” she continues, her voice shifting to something more urgent.

“Lilith Knight’s presence complicates everything.

As a confirmed Dual, as the daughter of Theodore, and now—as the only known witness to Magnus’ return—she stands at the heart of the storm. ”

Malissa leans forward slightly. Her eyes gleam, not with suspicion, but calculation. “We need someone who can earn her trust.”

My chest tightens, as if something unseen has wrapped around my ribs and begun to pull.

“We will send you as well, Augustus.”

The words hit me like a stone tossed into still water, sending ripples of anxiety coiling through my mind.

I suddenly become aware of the expectations cascading onto my shoulders like a waterfall.

I have trained for years, honing my skills.

Enough to grasp the Balance, but not to master it.

Surely others that are wiser, older, and more experienced are better suited for such a critical task.

“It is an honor,” I manage to say, though the words sit like lead on my tongue. “But I have not yet completed my training. Would it not be wiser to send someone more… seasoned?”

I glance down at the intricate patterns on the floor, feeling the legacy of my lineage—a long line of decorated Keepers—pressing down on me. Expectations are especially daunting when you haven’t yet become the person everyone anticipates you to be.

Malissa rises. “You are of strong lineage. And you are particularly attuned to the Balance for someone your age. The choice was clear to me from the start.”

I glance around the council chamber, taking in the twelve elders. Then I look at my grandmother. I know there is no place I would rather have her than here, far from the danger that waits beyond these walls.

I will not risk losing her. Not her. Not any of them.

No, this mission is mine to bear. Whether or not I feel ready... there is no choice but to accept it.

“I will go,” I say quietly, and the words settle like a seal across my chest.

Malissa’s gaze lingers on me. “Lilith Knight remains unproven. And yet, everything we know hangs on what she becomes. You are not to interfere—but you are to observe. Closely.”

She pauses.

“The Balance watches through you now, Augustus. Make sure it sees clearly.”