Chapter 46
Chapter
Forty-Six
The grand chamber of the Asgar Training Academy’s Council Room was suffocating.
Incense burned from braziers along the walls, but the sweet scent could not mask the tension.
Light from the diamond-glass ceiling spilled over the table carved with the sigils of the elemental orders.
Each seat was filled, commanders, generals, and royals, watching her as though she were both a miracle and a threat.
Thaelyn stood alone in the center, wrapped in a plain gray cloak. The stone beneath her boots still held the chill of night. Her breath felt loud in her ears. Her body still ached with pain.
Queen Elyria’s calm radiance anchored one side of the chamber; beside her stood King Varian, every inch the iron monarch.
At their right, Commander Dareth and the generals waited, faces expressionless as if cut from stone.
At the back, arms folded, jaw sharp, eyes like polished ice, stood Kaen.
The weight of his gaze made her skin crawl.
General Ravaryn Solas spoke first, her crimson armor gleaming in the morning light. “Cadet Marren,” she said, her voice crisp as tempered steel, “You were taken from the academy aerial grounds during a sanctioned patrol. Tell us what you recall.”
Thaelyn drew a breath. Her fingers twitched against her cloak, seeking steadiness.
“It happened fast. We were ambushed by Riftwraiths, mages, and necromancers. There were dozens of them. They came out of nowhere. Their magic was strong. They used some kind of spelled weapons to capture me. I was stabbed with something that paralyzed my body.”
Vaelen Solen leaned forward, eyes glimmering with knowledge that saw more than he admitted. “And after?”
Thaelyn hesitated and began to tell it all.
The memories slashed through her mind like blades, shackles biting her wrists, the beatings, poisons, and toxins she ingested that burned her from the inside out, Maelor’s burning staff, the whisper of shadows inside her skull.
She finished with “I woke beneath what I thought was the Rift,” she said softly.
“The air was wrong. Cold. There were voices.”
“Who?” Vaelen pressed.
She lifted her chin. “Several of them with all different rankings. Three of them called themselves the Triumvirate.”
Murmurs rippled through the chamber.
“Describe them,” Queen Elyria urged gently.
“Maelor,” Thaelyn said, her voice trembling despite her will.
“The Arch Necromancer. His power stank of grave soil and rot. Then Morcarion, the King Shadow Sovereign, could invade thoughts. Vaelgor, the illusionist, wore Thorne’s face while he tortured me.
Kors, the Bone Warden, his magic fed on decay itself.
Lyssara was there too. They wanted my Aether. ”
Gasps rippled around the table. Even the King shifted, his hand tightening on the armrest.
“They tried to make me give my power away willingly,” she continued. “When I refused, they said they would drop the wards so the dragons could sense me. That they would take them, and take Thorne, and use them to control me.” Her voice cracked on the last word.
Queen Elyria’s hand lifted slightly, not toward Thaelyn but toward the generals, as though to silence judgment. “And did they?”
Thaelyn shook her head. “No. I never broke.”
The silence that followed was thick and trembling.
Vaelen spoke softly. “Their plan confirms what I feared. They are not acting blindly. They are organized. Someone within our realm feeds them information.”
Her gaze flicked, unintentionally or not, toward Kaen.
In that instant, she felt it again. The brush of silk in her mind.
The faint echo of the same dark presence she’d sensed in the cavern before she’d been taken.
She forced herself to speak. “There’s something else.
When they captured me, just before the wards sealed, I felt someone else there.
Watching.” She swallowed hard. “It felt and saw Kaen. This was before they had drugged me or used an illusion.”
The chamber erupted. Chairs scraped. Voices shouted. King Varian’s voice cut through them all, low and dangerous. “You are accusing my son of consorting with the dark forces?”
Thaelyn’s heart pounded. She met his gaze, forcing her voice steady. “I’m saying I felt and saw him there. Whether it was real or a trick, I can’t be certain. But the presence was unmistakable.”
Kaen stepped forward, his expression calm, practiced, too practiced.
“Your Majesty,” he said with mock deference, “I believe Cadet Marren’s trauma clouds her memory.
I was with the royal fleet that day here at the academy with Commander Dareth.
Not on some fool's mission to divert attention from the academy perimeter.” He turned his gaze on her then, soft and full of pity.
“But I forgive her confused and inaccurate accusation.”
The word forgive hit her like a slap.
Queen Elyria’s eyes sharpened. “Then perhaps you would not mind a truth-scrying,” she said evenly. “A simple test to clear the matter.”
Kaen’s smile faltered. “The Queen’s magic should not be spent on paranoia. Surely you trust your own son and blood.”
King Varian’s voice rumbled, a warning to both of them. “Enough. We will not turn this council into an accusation-and-counteraccusation. The investigation will proceed under Commander Dareth’s authority.”
Commander Dareth inclined his head. “Until this is resolved, I recommend that both Prince Kaen and Cadet Marren remain under supervision, one at court, and the other at the academy.”
The Queen’s expression cooled, unreadable. “Agreed.”
Kaen bowed low, hiding the venom in his smirk. “As you wish.” When he straightened, his gaze found Thaelyn’s once more. It was fleeting, but she saw it, the faint curl of triumph at the corner of his mouth. She knew, in her bones, that what she’d felt in that cavern wasn’t an illusion. It was him.
The air beneath the Rift was colder than death.
Kaen landed lightly on the black stone dais, his dragon retreating into the mist above as he stepped into the cavern that reeked of blood and dark ozone.
Shadows coiled around the carved pillars, whispering in tongues older than language. The Triumvirate waited.
Maelor looked up from the altar, green fire licking around his staff. “You flew quickly when called, Prince.”
Kaen’s expression was a venomous glare. “You failed. She escaped. The Rift was open long enough for every ward in the northern sector to flare. The council suspects.”
Vaelgor lounged against a pillar, smirking. “We weakened her. That was the point.”
“You were supposed to break her, not give her a temporary nap!” Kaen snapped. His voice echoed, dripping fury. “Instead, you’ve drawn every dragon in Sydarean toward the borderlands.”
Morcarion’s smoke coiled around him, cold and sentient. “Careful, boy. You would not stand long without our shadows to cloak your treachery.”
Kaen didn’t flinch. “I stand because you need me. My father’s fleet answers to me. The council trusts me. When the next attack comes, they will look outward, not within. You’ll have your distraction.”
Maelor’s eyes flared, amused. “And what do you gain, little heir?”
Kaen’s smile was slow, serpentine. “The crown. The dragons. And her.” For a moment, silence stretched, a dark acknowledgment passing between them.
Vaelgor’s voice dripped with amusement. “Then you’d best hope your flame-born brother lives long enough for you to use him.”
Kaen turned away, cloak swirling. “He’ll do as I need. They both will. When the time comes, when the Aether rises again, I’ll be the one who wields it.” He strode back toward the tunnel, his boots striking sparks from the stone.
Behind him, Maelor’s laughter slithered through the shadows. “So speaks every tyrant before he falls.”