16. Chapter 16
sixteen
T horne
The wind tore through the shadows, whipping at my cloak as I sat atop my stallion, the beast snorting and restless beneath me. Beside me, my army stretched like an endless sea of black, feathers gleaming under the moonlight, eyes sharp and predatory. My crows, my warriors, half-bird, half-human hybrids, their wings rustling in the night with the promise of death.
I tightened my grip on the reins, the leather creaking beneath my fingers. Every breath I took was a reminder of the rage I longed to release. Nyria wanted a war, her betrayal woven through every crack of the Maze. She thought she could take what was mine; what belonged to me. Power hungry and pathetic is what she is, what she always was. The maze would only fall deeper into darkness with her in control. I thought darkness was my only ally in this world, until Brielle. Her light had been unexpected but it consumed me.
My mother’s voice. I could still hear it, like a melody on the edge of a dream, soft, filled with an aching warmth that didn’t belong in a place like this. Her words had always been so different from my father’s. While he thrived in the dark, commanded the shadows like an extension of himself, she had spoken of light, of hope.
"The darkness won’t last forever, my child. When the light comes, and she will come, let her in. Love her, and you will always feel warm."
I clenched my jaw against the memory, against the pang in my chest that came with it. It had been so long since I’d allowed myself to think of her. My father had ruled with cruelty, with the kind of iron that bent others to his will. He reveled in it, dragged me into that abyss, training me to do the same. I learned to survive in the cold, in the shadows, because that’s what he demanded of me. But my mother... she had been different.
When I was young, I used to sneak away from him. I’d flee from his lessons, his harsh commands, and find her in the gardens, her gentle laugh like a balm on my wounded soul. She’d hold me close, her embrace the only place I ever felt truly safe, truly alive. She smelled of roses, and the sun seemed to find her even when the Maze was at its darkest. The gardens are empty now, when she left she took that with her too.
The sound of her singing still haunted the halls of my mind, soft, sorrowful, and filled with a love that my father could never understand. And when she died... when the shadows consumed her... everything fell apart. The darkness swallowed us all whole. Even me.
I had buried those memories deep, locked them away, because feeling them hurt too much. The light had been extinguished, and I thought it would never return. From the moment I saw Brielle, there was something about her that defied the darkness I had lived in for so long. I felt the warmth fill my chest, the same warmth I hadn’t felt in years. Since that moment I was obsessed, a pitiful man consumed with the thought of what being close to her might feel like.
A shuffling of feet brought my focus back to the present. Grom.I could see the pain in his face before he knelt.
“Grom,” I acknowledge him from above. “What is it?”
He bowed low “My king... I come to ask something of you.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Speak.”
“I... failed you.” Grom’s voice faltered. “Failed the queen.”
I stiffened at his words. Queen. He already saw Brielle as his queen. My chest tightened with pride. I waited, letting the silence stretch, watching as Grom struggled with his guilt.
“I should’ve protected her,” he continued, head still bowed. “But I didn’t. And now, I ask that you allow me to join you, to fight for her, for the Maze. I will lay down my life if need be.”
A cold smile tugged at my lips. “You would sacrifice your life for her?” I asked, the words coated in steel.
“For the Maze,” Grom corrected, his voice resolute. “But Brielle is what the Maze needs. A queen worthy of the crown, and you, my king.”
His words hit me harder than I’d expected. He believed in her. He spent only a day or two in her presence and even he could feel the warmth of her. Grom knows the maze better than anyone, better than even me. To hear his words only confirms that this is the prophesy, my mothers words coming true. She is the light, the sun, and I will let her in. I have been so consumed by my own desire to possess her, to pull her into my shadows and make her mine. But this... this was different. She wasn’t just mine. She was the Maze’s queen. A queen who could balance my darkness with her light.
I looked down at Grom, pride swelling in my chest, but it was the bitter kind, the kind that reminded me how much I’d let slip in my obsession with keeping her safe. The Maze had suffered because of me. Quadrants had fallen under the rule of disloyal lords, and the people had paid the price. I’d been blind, too preoccupied with Brielle, with the relentless assaults on the walls, and with my own damn pride.
But now, standing here with Grom on his knees before me, I realized it wasn’t just about saving her. It was about saving the Maze. Everything I’d built, everything I was willing to burn for her. In Brielle’s eyes, I saw my redemption.
“For the Maze,” I repeated slowly, the words cold and heavy. “And for your queen.”
Grom looked up, his black eyes gleaming. “Yes, my king. For her.”
I allow a small smile to cross my features, Nyria waited with her twisted shadows and deceit. She had no idea the storm she had summoned.
“For the Maze,” I called out, my voice booming over the night.
And my crows—my soldiers—responded in unison.
“For the Queen.”
The rhythmic thud of hooves on the stone echoed through the Maze, my soldiers marching behind me, their wings ruffling as the wind cut through us. My mind drifted despite the tension of the impending battle, lost in the weight of my past mistakes; the most glaring one being Nyria. The thought turns my mouth sour. I was so naive and stupid. She had once been by my side, sharing my bed and filling my nights with a cold, calculated presence that I mistook for something more. But in truth, she had always been after one thing: power. She was hungry for it from day one.
I could still remember the nights spent with her. She would lie next to me, her touch cold as ice, and her words slithered into my thoughts like venom. At first, I was drawn to her, maybe because I was young and desperate to fill the void left by my mother’s death. Looking back on the memory, that’s the only explation that comes to mind. The shadows that consumed me had wrapped around her too, and for a time, I thought she understood what it was like to live in the dark.
But it didn’t take long before her touch began to make my skin crawl. She was never in it for me, never in it for the Maze. She wanted the crown, and she made that clear every night she lay beside me. Her ambitions were too great, too dark, even for this cursed place. She talked incessantly of spreading my rule beyond the Maze, using the ancient magic it held to conquer kingdoms. She wanted to manipulate the power, bend it to her will, use it to fuel her hunger for control.
That hunger... it sickened me.
I remember the day I saw her for who she really was. The day I saw through her manipulations, her sweet words that were nothing more than a cover for her greed. That was the day I stopped letting her seek me out, stopped allowing her into my chambers, my mind, my thoughts.
Her rage was instant. The mask of civility she wore so well fell away, revealing the darkness underneath; ugly and bitter. She lashed out, furious that I had denied her the control she so desperately wanted. It was then that I made my first mistake: I gave her control over the Northern Quadrant to shut her up. I thought it would pacify her, that giving her a taste of power would keep her in check. But it was weakness on my part, and I should have known better. I never should have let her sink her claws into me.
I had been a lonely king, wandering the endless nights with only the shadows for company. Nyria took advantage of that. She saw an opportunity and she seized it with all the cruelty of someone who knew exactly how to exploit weakness. Laying with her had been like drowning in darkness, and every time she left, it felt like I could breathe a little more.
And then... then I saw Brielle.
With Brielle, I didn’t just breathe—I lived. In silent company of her is when I felt truley alive.
I shook my head, clearing the memories as we rode on. Grom remained at my side, silent but steady, his loyalty a comfort. The army moved like a dark tide, ready to reclaim what had been lost. The distant echo of cawing filled the air, and I could sense the tension rising among my soldiers. The battle ahead would be brutal, but I was ready for it. I will carve out the Crow’s eye right from her fucking head.
We pressed deeper into the Maze, its twisted walls shifting and grinding like the ribs of some ancient beast. I knew it was Nyria’s doing, her attempt to slow us down, to taunt me. The corners of my mouth tugged upward in a dark smile. She knew I was coming for her. She knew that no matter how many times she moved these damned walls, I would tear through them. This wasn’t a game; it was a death march. She could try to twist the Maze around me, but when I found her, and I would, I’d rip apart everything she thought she controlled.
I glanced over at Grom, riding steadily beside me, his face a mask of grim determination. “Has there been any other movement in the Maze I should be aware of?” I asked, my voice steady despite the gnawing sense that something more sinister lurked within these ever-shifting corridors.
Grom shook his head. “Only the walls shifting. The shade hounds are wild, lurking at every corner, and I’ve noticed a stone spider or two drifting from the Abyssal Quadrant.”
I cursed under my breath. Stone spiders were notoriously difficult to kill—giant creatures of rock and shadow with venomous fangs that could paralyze a man with one bite. If they were coming up from the Abyssal Quadrant, it meant Nyria was truly desperate, summoning every dark thing she could muster.
Before I could respond, a noise echoed through the Maze; something that wasn’t ours. It was the sound of heavy footsteps. Then came the war cry, loud and fierce, reverberating off the walls like thunder. My army tensed, their swords drawn, cawing in anticipation, wings bristling, ready for the fight.
The horde came into view, hulking, bestial forms, their bodies radiating heat like walking furnaces. Rage beasts. They roared, the sound guttural and primal as they came to a halt just ahead of us. Their massive frames were covered in thick, matted fur, twisted faces contorted in an expression of eternal fury. Steam rose from their skin, as if their bodies were too hot for the air around them to contain. I knew them well, creatures that fed off violence, thriving on the emotions of those unfortunate enough to cross their path. They were nearly impossible to kill, fighting with the strength of ten men, and their very presence could incite madness in lesser minds.
The horde parted down the middle, revealing a figure striding through them, his broad shoulders and commanding presence unmistakable. Lord Thacket of the Eastern Quadrant.
"Hey, boy!" Thacket barked, his booming voice carrying over the snarls of the beasts. "You thought you were going to start a war without me?" He let out a loud, rough laugh, the kind that echoed deep into your bones.
I raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at my lips as I lowered my sword. "Stand down," I ordered my army. Their tension eased, but they remained ready, their eyes fixed on the rage beasts, who prowled, their yellow eyes glowing in the dim light of the Maze.
Thacket approached, grinning "What, no warm welcome?" he teased.
"I simply thought you, like the rest, had betrayed your king," I said, half-joking, though there was an edge to my voice. "I was planning to hunt you down and kill you after I was done here."
Thacket barked another laugh, "Betrayal, eh? Haven't heard of him."
But then, his expression turned serious. He looked at me with an intensity that I hadn't seen in years. "I made a promise to your mother, Thorne. And I've waited a long time to see you pull yourself up, to make the moves you were always meant to make. She would be proud of you, boy." His voice softened just for a moment before it regained its sharpness. "Now let’s move. We have a queen to bring home."
His words struck me. My mother. She would’ve hated what I’d become during those years, drowning in the shadows. But now, with Brielle, I had a chance to honor my mother’s wish. The Maze had a queen, and it was time to bring her home.
Thacket let out a roar, and his rage beasts responded, their primal howls filling the air. I turned to Grom, who nodded, his expression hardening with resolve. The Maze was alive with danger, but I could feel something different now, an energy building, a fire that had been ignited deep within me.
“Onward!” I commanded, my voice cutting through the noise. The army surged forward, and I could feel the power of the Maze pulsing beneath us, shifting with every step we took.