Page 30 of Unseen Eye (Aetherian Chronicles #1)

Guards pour out from the castle, their armor glinting in the torchlight as they form defensive lines.

I scan the crowd, searching for Emmet, but he’s nowhere to be seen.

Alerts are sent to the neighboring barracks, summoning reinforcements.

Guests step forward to prepare for battle, accepting swords and shields from the castle’s armory staff.

Even some of the gnomes are staying. The clatter of weapons and the murmur of determined voices fill the air, a jarring contrast to the earlier festivities.

Meanwhile, the women and children are rushed inside the castle, their faces pale with fear. The servants, despite their own visible terror, move with remarkable efficiency, guiding the non-combatants to safety and securing the heavy doors behind them.

Garet rushes over to me, his face tight with urgency. “Eva, you need to get inside where it’s safe,” he demands, his voice brokering no argument.

I shake my head, my resolve solidifying. “No. I’m staying out here to fight.”

His eyes flash with frustration, his voice rising. “You’re in a damn dress. You’ll be a liability.”

Before I can retort, Izzy steps in, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife. “That didn’t stop you before. Quit being so damn protective, or I’ll stab you myself just to shut you up.”

Garet scowls at her, his tone condescending. “Izzy, this isn’t your call. You have no idea what she’s been through.”

Izzy’s eyes flare with anger. “And you do? Don’t you dare use your mental tricks on her, Garet.”

“What does that mean?” I ask, looking between them. “I thought he could just control emotions.”

“Who told you that—” Garet begins, but Izzy cuts him off.

“Typical. She has no idea what you’re capable of.”

Garet looks cornered now, his usual calm crumbling. “Eva, it’s... complicated,” he begins, but Izzy doesn’t let him finish.

“He can manipulate thoughts and memories,” she snaps, her face flushed with fury. “Along with emotions. You didn’t know that? Of course you didn’t, because Garet keeps you in the dark.”

What. The. Fuck.

Everything about his time in Pinebrook hits me like a wave. The implanted memories, the way he always seemed to know what everyone was thinking—it was all lies. I feel violated, my trust in him shattering like glass.

Garet’s face pales, his mouth opening and closing as he struggles to find the right words. “Eva, it’s not like that,” he stammers, his voice pleading. “I never used it on you. I swear, I would never—”

Izzy cuts him off with a sharp laugh. “Save it, Garet. We both know you’d do anything to keep your secrets.”

Ignoring Garet’s protests, I rush to where I dropped my sword earlier, the feel of the hilt in my hand a welcome reassurance. The grounds are a whirlwind of activity, everyone scrambling to prepare.

“This isn’t just about her safety,” Garet insists, his voice tight with desperation.

“Enough!” I shout, my voice cracking through the tension between us. “Garet, if you don’t walk away right now, I will impale you with this sword and not feel an ounce of regret.”

A smirk tugs at Callon’s lips as he approaches, his tone low and teasing. “I wouldn’t test her if I were you. She’s quite the evil little thing.”

I turn to face him, pointing my sword in his direction. “And you,” I begin, narrowing my eyes, “stop calling me that, or you’re next.”

Garet shoots me one last sad look before he turns and heads toward his father, now fully armored.

Callon shifts back into soldier mode, his expression hardening.

“They’re coming from the south. I don’t know how many, but there are a lot.

” He pulls a dagger from his boot, identical to the one I’ve seen before.

“Take this,” he says, pressing it into my hand.

“Focus on the hellhounds. You know how to handle them. The shadowfiends are trickier—magic only kills their shadows. And stay close to Izzy.”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” I snap, my grip tightening on the dagger.

“I know,” he says with a wink. “But maybe she needs one.” With that, he turns and heads toward the incoming horde, his form vanishing into the chaos.

Izzy yells after him. “Try to save some for the rest of us, jackass!”

The night explodes into chaos as shadows slither from the darkness beyond the castle walls, their forms shifting. Torches flicker wildly, casting eerie, dancing light on the battlefield as the first wave of hellhounds breach the perimeter, and the sharp clang of swords being drawn fills the air.

At the forefront, Baron’s voice cuts through the noise. “Hold the line! Shields up! Reinforce the southern wall! We cannot let them breach the inner courtyard!”

The gnomes, small but fierce, stand their ground. With a sweep of their hands, jagged walls of earth surge upward, blocking the creatures’ path. Fire burst from their palms, incinerating shadowy creatures in an instant.

Drystan moves through the fray like a phantom. His twin blades flashing as they slice through hellhounds. In the storm of chaos, his calm is unnerving—a predator stalking its prey.

The battlefield is a frenzy of shifting shadows and frantic fighting.

The southern wall collapses in a deafening crash, dragging defenders down with it.

Hellhounds pour through the breach, snarling and ravenous, their teeth flashing in the dim light.

But they aren’t the only things emerging from the darkness.

I glimpse other creatures—nightmares and darklings.

The darklings, I vaguely recall from the library, are like twisted, insect-like swarms, only much larger, more lethal.

I search for Emmet’s red hair among the fighters, panic gripping my chest. He’s not there. Keep moving. No time to fall apart now.

A nightmare charges—its mane a flickering fire, claws like molten steel. I swing my blade, severing its head with a desperate strike. It hits the ground, but more are coming.

“Izzy!” I shout as I dodge another darkling’s attack. “Where are they all coming from?” My voice trembles with the realization that we’re fighting more than just a normal battle.

In the distance, Izzy unleashes a gust of wind, shredding a shadowfiend into ash. “They didn’t tell you?” she shouts, barely pausing as she cuts down another foe.

“The gate,” I gasp, realization hitting hard. “It’s open.”

“Yeah, welcome to the abyss!” Izzy spits, her irises glowing bright.

I barely register another hellhound lunging at me. My sword cuts through it mid-leap, but the adrenaline isn’t enough to quell the icy dread creeping through my veins.

The stench of smoke and blood thickens around me. The clash of steel, the snarls of beasts, and the screams of the wounded fill the air. But I can only think of one thing: how much worse can this get?

Callon tears through the battle like a force of nature. His sword crashes down on creatures with brutal efficiency, leaving a trail of destruction behind him. Aether sparks in the air, incinerating anything that dares to come near him. He’s a hurricane of power, his focus unbreakable.

Nearby, Garet and Leigh move in tandem. Garet’s sword flashes in the firelight, cutting down attackers with fierce determination.

Leigh is a whirlwind, her twin daggers dancing through the shadows with deadly.

Even Baron, whose usual stoic demeanor is replaced by a ferocity I rarely see, slashes through the enemy.

But no matter how many we kill, the shadows keep coming. Relentless, they slip past defenses and strike with extreme speed. Guards fall, and the weight of the enemy begins to crush us. Bodies litter the ground, blending into the darkness as the battle rages on.

I throw myself into the thick of it. The hem of my dress tangles around my legs, and without a second thought, I hack it off, freeing myself to move.

Callon’s voice cuts through the chaos. “What happened to staying back?”

“You looked like you were having too much fun,” I yell, ducking a swipe from a hellhound. “Izzy’s helping in the rear.”

I barely catch sight of a nightmare leaping toward me. Before I can react, the ground ripples and aetheric chains snap up, catching the creature mid-air.

“Woman, you’ll be the death of me,” Callon grumbles, already focused on another cluster of darklings

Baron’s voice cuts through the chaos, commanding and clear. “Reinforce the western flank! We need more elementals on the walls! Don’t let them regroup!”

From the shadows, a figure emerges, cloaked in darkness and exuding a terrifying power.

His cloak billows around him, but it’s not the wind that stirs it—it’s his presence, cutting through the air with an unnatural stillness.

His footsteps are almost silent, yet there’s a weight to them, as if each one echoes with a promise of destruction.

Izzy, who’s rejoined me, spots the figure and groans, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Callon’s eyes narrow, his voice tense. “That’s a shadow warden. A nightmare made flesh.”

The warden’s hair is short, stark black, and spiked like shards of night itself.

His face is sharp, angular—carved from stone, with high cheekbones and a jaw set in a permanent scowl.

His skin is pale, almost translucent, with shadowy veins pulsing beneath the surface.

His eyes, a stormy gray, twist with a dark intelligence, contrasting the commander’s black onyx eyes.

His armor, forged from obsidian, gleams menacingly in the firelight.

Intricate runes shimmer on his chestplate, glowing faintly with aether.

A tattered black cloak billows behind him, defying the stillness of the battlefield.

Unlike the commander I faced at the cottage, whose movements were fluid and graceful, the warden’s presence is heavy, oppressive.

The warriors around him hesitate, their attention drawn by an invisible force.

Even their breath seems to pause, unwilling to disturb the silence that follows him.