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A swirl of conflicting emotions tugs at me. “You’d watch me seize Orthani’s reins, after everything?”

His voice comes out hushed but laced with reluctant admiration. “I told you I’d share you if it meant keeping you. If you claim Orthani, perhaps I’d share that throne with you. Or stand guard at your door, ensuring no one takes you from it.”

My pulse races at the idea of Vaelith’s unwavering support, but doubt lingers. “What if I become what I hate—a tyrant who lords over others?”

He sets a hand on my shoulder gently. “You’re not built to revel in oppression, Selene. You’d bring change, not cruelty.”

A flicker of warmth surges. The sincerity in his gaze stirs something reminiscent of the night I took him.

For all his stoic nature, he sees me as more than an adversary.

I swallow, pushing aside the swirl of emotion.

“Let’s focus on saving Ai from the Red Purna.

Then we’ll see if Orthani stands or falls. ”

He nods, stepping aside as I slip past. We walk in tense silence toward a side corridor leading away from Ai’s chamber.

In the flickering torches, I sense Vaelith’s presence radiating a quiet protectiveness.

My mind still reels with Ai’s words. Burn Orthani or shape it.

She believes I have that choice. Which do I want?

We round a corner, nearly colliding with Eryx. He leans against the wall, arms crossed, that roguish smirk flickering. “I felt the ripple of Ai’s magic from across the courtyard. She okay?”

I nod. “Yes. We calmed her. She’s asleep now.” A hush drapes over us, the three of us gathered once more in this dim hallway. Eryx’s gaze roams me, perhaps recalling our last heated group tangle. My cheeks warm at the memory, but I steel myself. There’s too much at stake for distraction.

Eryx sighs. “The Red Purna moves soon. They want Ai, or they’ll kill her. We can’t let them get near her. But the city’s watchers also pose a threat.”

Vaelith clenches his jaw, shoulders tense. “We’ll get Ai out first. Then decide how to handle Orthani. Let them fight the Red Purna if they want, or we intervene. I’m still uncertain.”

Eryx’s smirk fades. “Selene, you’re the anchor here. Without you, we’d tear at each other. If you plan to shape Orthani, I’ll stand with you. But if you want it to burn, I’ll help with that too.”

Conflicting gratitude and dread swirl in me. “Ai seems convinced I’m meant to do more than run. But I still want to keep us all alive. I can’t rule a city that tears me apart.”

We stand in uneasy reflection. Then Eryx, always the cunning one, smirks.

“We’ll discover your path soon enough. For now, let me handle feeding the Red Purna false leads.

By tomorrow, they’ll be salivating at an easy Orthani infiltration.

” He glances between me and Vaelith. “Then we exfiltrate Ai the night before the assault, leaving the Red Purna swinging at shadows.”

I let out a slow breath. “Good. Meanwhile, I’ll talk to Zareth about neutralizing wards near Ai’s wing. We do this carefully. If the city suspects we’re stealing her, they’ll mobilize an entire legion.”

Eryx nods, stepping back into the shadows. “I’ll go. Meeting the Red Purna requires my full attention.” He darts me a final look, expression flicking with that fervent devotion he tries to mask. Then he slips away, a whisper in the darkness.

Vaelith and I remain, tension thickening. The corridor’s torch sputters, revealing the swirling emotions etched on his face. “I’ll return to my post,” he mutters. “Ensure no one stumbles upon Ai. If you need me, send a quiet signal.”

I hesitate, heart pounding. “Vaelith…” He looks at me, guarded. I sense his conflict—he craves me yet struggles with the idea of me leading Orthani. “Thank you,” I manage. “For trusting my judgment, no matter how wild it seems.”

His mouth quirks in a faint, wry smile. “You gave me little choice, Selene. But I find I don’t mind. Be careful.” He brushes past, footsteps echoing until the gloom swallows him.

Left alone, I lean against the cold stone wall, exhaling.

My entire body vibrates with tension, Ai’s words echoing: Burn Orthani or shape it.

My mind whirls. On one side, a chance to watch Orthani crumble under the Red Purna, fulfilling my original sabotage dream.

On the other, an impossible notion: forging a new Orthani that doesn’t thrive on cruelty. Which would truly free me?

I push off the wall, deciding to stroll the estate’s corridors for a while.

The hush of late night offers a semblance of clarity.

I pass silent tapestries depicting Orthani’s victories, the very triumphs that once spelled doom for purna like me.

My footsteps ring on polished floors, a mild chill creeping through these ornate halls.

In each shadow, I recall how I once skulked as a spy, wearing illusions of humanity to survive.

Now, illusions… I catch myself nearly using that forbidden word.

Instead, I note I wore transformations to pass undetected.

My entire life was infiltration. And now, I stand at the cusp of something far greater: infiltration turned leadership.

Eventually, I find a small balcony. Pushing open the glass door, I step onto the balcony’s stone ledge, letting the night air swirl around me.

Orthani’s spires loom, silvered by moonlight.

My gaze sweeps the city, from the lowtowns where humans labor in near-slavery to the opulent squares where nobles parade.

The Red Purna would set it all ablaze. Part of me still relishes that thought.

Another part recalls Ai’s gentle voice, Eryx’s battered conscience, Vaelith’s torn loyalty, Zareth’s forced kneeling.

They’re all broken pieces of Orthani. If I let the city burn, their scars never truly heal.

I trace a hand along the balcony’s stone rail.

“Shape Orthani…” I murmur under my breath.

Could I gather enough power to dethrone the council, shift the caste system, free the slaves?

It sounds like a naive fantasy. Yet the men I’ve bent to my will—if I can unify them, perhaps I can unify fractured parts of Orthani, forging alliances with rebellious castes, threatened merchants, or waira in the mountains.

The idea churns with terrifying possibility.

A ripple of determination stirs inside me.

I recall how I conquered my personal enemies, how I forced Zareth to beg, how I overcame Vaelith’s stoic discipline, turned Eryx’s cunning to my side.

If I can do that, maybe I can do more. Ai’s future depends on it.

And if the Red Purna storms in, I alone might halt them from sacrificing her, while also preventing the city from doubling down on cruelty.

I straighten, inhaling the crisp night air.

My heart resolves: I won’t run from Orthani.

I will see it undone or remade, but not left to rot in anarchy.

That’s my vow to Ai, to those who’ve pledged themselves to me.

My chest warms with a surge of purpose, overshadowing my old fears.

The city’s fate might hinge on my choice, and I won’t hide from it.

Turning away from the balcony, I head back inside, mind forging a plan.

Step one is rescuing Ai from both Orthani and the Red Purna.

Step two… well, that’s where I might gather the fragments of Orthani’s rebellion, or break the city’s council from within.

The how remains unclear. But I sense a path forming.

Once Ai is safe, I can reveal Orthani’s rotten core, rally the castes who chafe under the nobility’s rule.

My newly claimed men—Zareth for psionic infiltration, Vaelith for military influence, Eryx for cunning sabotage—will become my council. My unstoppable triad fueling my rise.

The notion sends a thrill through me. As I pass dark corridors, memories of each man’s touch fill my mind, how they let me stand above them, guiding their hunger and devotion.

This is a deeper level of mastery—beyond bodies, it’s hearts and loyalties.

If I harness that synergy for Orthani’s future, maybe Ai’s prophecy that I shape the city will come true.

I find myself at Ai’s door again. Quietly, I peer inside.

She sleeps peacefully, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

The air no longer crackles with uncontrolled magic.

I let out a soft breath, stepping back. Good.

She needs rest for what’s coming. We’ll face the might of both Red Purna infiltration squads and Orthani’s entrenched power.

But at least Ai won’t be their pawn. She’ll stand under my protection, able to choose her own path.

I continue down the corridor, deciding to return to my own chamber.

My mind toss and turns with final details, excitement crackling in each step.

The night’s hush no longer feels ominous but brims with potential.

My illusions—almost said illusions, must avoid that word—my transformations let me pass a guard, who dozes by a side entrance. He barely stirs as I slip past.

Reaching my room, I step inside, setting a small lamp alight.

My reflection in the polished mirror reveals the same face but with a new fire in the eyes.

I shrug off my cloak, letting it pool on the floor.

My body hums with exhaustion and triumphant energy from everything that’s happened.

Ai’s words swirl in my thoughts: “Burn Orthani… or shape it.”

I press a palm to my chest, recalling the surge of adrenaline when her magic flared.

She glimpsed fragments of possible futures, each one tied to my decision.

It’s daunting, but also thrilling. For so long, I existed in the shadows of this city, disguised to survive.

Now, I stand on the verge of owning it. Not as a tyrant, but as the one who can unify or destroy at will.

A soft knock raps at my door. My heart jolts. “Yes?” I call softly. The door cracks open to reveal Zareth, eyes lowered, posture tense. He steps in, exhaling.

“Selene,” he says, voice hushed. “I felt Ai’s power surge. Is she… stable?” The question lingers with quiet concern.

I nod. “I calmed her. She sleeps. But she’s unsettled by visions of Orthani’s downfall.”

His jaw tightens, acknowledging the city’s precarious state. “That child sees too much.” He pauses, shifting awkwardly. “I only came to… check. And to confirm your plan with me about disabling the wards around Ai’s wing. We do that tomorrow?”

I let out a slow breath, flicking the lamp flame to full brightness. “Yes. Subtly, so the council doesn’t suspect. Then, on the chosen night, we slip her out.”

Zareth nods, stepping forward. I recall how we parted last time—he knelt at my feet, undone by my mental might.

Despite everything, a faint swirl of attraction pulses between us, a leftover spark from that heated group entanglement.

I sense his lingering shame. “I won’t fail,” he murmurs, eyes flicking to the floor.

“I know I— tried to enslave you once, but no more. You have my submission, or at least my loyalty for this cause.”

I cross to him, gently lifting his chin so he meets my gaze. “You proved it by coming here. I won’t doubt your sincerity. Just remember: if you waver, I’ll remind you who commands your mind.” My voice dips in a half-tease, half-warning.

A faint flush colors his cheeks. “I don’t forget. I—” He hesitates, swallowing. “You truly mean to shape Orthani, not just flee?”

I shrug. “It seems so. Ai believes I should be more than a fugitive. Part of me aches to tear Orthani down, but perhaps if I remain, I can transform it. For the sake of Ai and those caught in the crossfire.”

He exhales, relief mingled with doubt. “Then I stand with you, so long as you want me.”

I smirk, leaning in just enough that he can feel my breath.

“I want your psionic cunning. Perhaps, in time, more.” My lips brush faintly over his, a reminder that I hold him in many ways.

He shivers, eyes fluttering. Then I draw back, clearing my throat.

“Now go. We have work tomorrow. The wards must fall quietly.”

He bows his head, stepping away. With a final glance, he slips through the door, leaving me alone once more.

I sink onto the bed, my thoughts churning.

Each man is committed, each piece in place.

The Red Purna’s siege approaches, but if we outmaneuver them, Ai remains safe, and I can stake my claim on Orthani’s future.

The child’s warning rings again in my mind: “Burn it or shape it.” In my heart, I suspect the choice is all but made.

Drawing the covers around me, I let my eyelids droop.

My body hums with the night’s tension, the memory of Ai’s flaring magic, the swirl of alliances I’ve forged.

I am more certain than ever that I won’t simply fade from Orthani.

If the Red Purna tries to harness Ai for destruction, I’ll stand in their path.

If Orthani’s council tries to scapegoat her, I’ll break them, too.

For better or worse, I’ve become a central pivot in Orthani’s fate.

And if the city must bend to me, so be it.

Sleep tiptoes in. I drift on images of rifts in the air, glimpses of fiery skies, and the sensation of men kneeling at my feet.

Ai’s voice whispers, echoing the prophecy.

My lips move in a ghost of a smile, even as darkness claims me.

Orthani might quake under my dominion, or it might burn.

But either way, I’ll be the one guiding the final outcome.

I will not leave my destiny to any other.

Not the Red Purna, not the council, not even fate itself.

I’ll shape it with my own hands—and with the loyal men enthralled by my will. Let the city quake. I’m ready.