CHAPTER 8
Everyone was stunned by the explosion. Screams echoed through the hall, and the Aethenroth guards rushed to seize the suspect-but before they could reach him, the man collapsed, lifeless, as if something drained him completely.
Amid the fading smoke, a figure emerged. Tall, cloaked in shifting shadows, his presence distorted the air like a heatwave. A strange energy pulsed around him, dark and otherworldly.
The stranger grinned mockingly, "Chill, old man. I'm just here to deliver a message."
Sorayael scanned the chaos. Some nobles had fallen-scraped, bloodied but her eyes locked immediately onto her little brother. Relief washed over her when she saw Krios unharmed. She embraced him tightly.
Her gaze found Zarethian next, standing behind the Grand Duke. She approached quickly.
Zarethian shot her a glare. "Shut up. We need to help the others."
The tension between the Grand Duke and the mysterious man escalated. Words turned to steel, and suddenly, they clashed-swords and magic colliding in a fierce duel.
Just as power erupted between them, the air behind the intruder began to warp. A swirling void opened like a black hole, its pull sudden and violent.
The darkness appears behind them too.
Sorayael's eyes widened. "No!"
She shoved Krios toward the nearest knight. "Take him! Get him out of here!"
The void expanded, tendrils of darkness sweeping across the hall. "Young master! My lady!" voices screamed, reaching through the chaos.
And then, in a flash of light and shadows-
They were gone.
Sorayael and Zarethian vanished into the void, swallowed whole by the unknown.
A heavy, unnatural silence.
The dim flicker of a lantern cast long shadows on stone walls as Sorayael and Zarethian collapsed onto the cold, damp floor. Dust stirred with every breath they took-uneven, labored, unconscious. The scent of mildew, rust, and old blood lingered thick in the air.
They had landed in a basement or perhaps something worse.
The stone beneath them was cracked and etched with faded glyphs. Chains rattled faintly in the dark, not from movement, but from memory-echoes of whatever horrors once resided in this place.
From the far corner, the mysterious man emerged from the veil of darkness, his glowing eyes gleaming like a predator in the gloom. His twisted grin deepened as he looked at the two unconscious children.
He turned and ascended a crooked staircase, the old wood creaking under his steps. At the top, the door opened with a groan and another man stood there, cloaked in the same eerie black.
In a flash, the mysterious man's hand tightened around the ally's neck, lifting him off the ground effortlessly.
The ally clawed at his grip, gasping, until the man released him with a shove. The second figure stumbled back, coughing, glaring, but didn't speak again. He turned and vanished into the shadows to deliver his report, his mind racing with fear.
Meanwhile, the mysterious man stood at the threshold, his silhouette framed in a firelight.
He had begun something he intended to finish no matter what the stars had to say.
Krios stood among the wreckage, his small frame trembling.
At first, he simply looked around; eyes wide, searching, hoping. But as each second passed and Sorayael didn't appear, the hope drained from his golden eyes.
No response.
His lips trembled. "Ate.. where are you..?"
He ran past the broken tables, past the guards, past the servants who tried to stop him. "Ate! Ate!" His voice echoed, growing louder, more desperate. He checked the hall, the corridors, even the entrance.
Tears flooded down his cheeks as sobs racked his tiny body. He screamed until his voice cracked until exhaustion finally claimed him.
Jezha found him curled up in the corner of the grand hall, Sorayael's cloak still clutched tightly in his fist.
Unconscious from crying too much, but still murmuring her name in his sleep.
.............
A massive chamber, carved in obsidian and veiled in shadows. The air was thick, humming with restrained power.
A cloaked figure knelt before a throne carved from what looked like the bones of a fallen star.
From the darkness, a hand emerged; long, pale, and crackling faintly with celestial energy.
Silence. Then the master's hand closed into a trembling fist. The air crackled with force, the entire chamber groaning as though the world itself shivered.
His eyes, unseen but deeply felt, burned with quiet wrath.
A faint, metallic drip echoed through the dim basement-cold and damp, the scent of iron and sulfur clinging to every breath. Sorayael stirred, eyes fluttering open. The stone floor was rough beneath her, and her hands... were bound.
She tried to move, but magical restraints pulsed along her arms and legs, anchoring her in place.
Then a voice cut through the silence like a dagger.
Sorayael's golden eyes narrowed, her tone calm but sharp. "What are you planning to do?"
He walked slowly, almost theatrically, twirling the syringe. "You see... it's quite simple. Your dear young master over there-" he gestured at the unconscious Zarethian slumped across the room, chained like her, "-is gifted. Marked and chosen by the stars."
He crouched beside her, grin twitching. "And you? You're just an extra piece and not meant to be part of this, but you chose to stay. You chose to interfere."
She kept her voice steady, her breathing slow. "If you think hurting us will get you what you want-"
Sorayael tried to gather mana in her core-and felt.. nothing. It was like her own body was muffled. Her heart pounded in frustration.
Drelven's eyes shimmered with a sick fascination. "To unseat the stars themselves. The world has bowed to their whims too long."
Sorayael didn't speak at first. Her golden eyes were locked on something across the room-someone.
Zarethian.
Bound. Unmoving. Pale.
His chest barely rose with shallow breaths, and faint sparks of aura flickered from him-defensive, instinctive.. afraid.
Sorayael's heart twisted.
'I'm weak,' she thought bitterly. 'I can't even protect him. What am I doing here?'
She bit her lip hard, the metallic taste of blood rising on her tongue.
'I shouldn't have stayed. I should've taken Krios and left. I'm not even part of this world. This isn't my fight...'
She flinched as Drelven walked toward Zarethian and plunged the syringe into his arm.
Zarethian jerked violently, gasping as a tortured cry ripped from his throat.
Tears pricked the corners of her eyes as panic consumed her. She tried to pull at her binds again, tried to summon even a flicker of mana, but nothing answered her call.
Drelven only laughed.
Her mind began to spiral, memories flashing.
Zarethian pulling her out of bed at 5 a.m.. his proud smirk when he boasted about being an S-rank.. that annoyed glare when she teased him.. his back, always facing danger first.
'no..'
Her fingers clenched into fists.
'No... I won't lose anyone again.'
A single tear rolled down her cheek. And then-
Something inside her broke.
No.
Something awakened.
Like fire surging from her soul, her body trembled then pulsed with golden light. The seals cracked. The air rippled. A low hum filled the room.
Drelven turned just in time to see the shackles shatter.
The power that surged from her was wild, ancient, laced with starfire.
She rose, eyes glowing with fierce, molten gold. Her silver hair whipped in the aura wind now coiling around her like a storm.