Astra sits at a table and I go outside to call my brother and my friends. Everyone comes in, except Azur, who’s still afraid of becoming an instrument of the Witch King. I don’t blame him. If anything, I appreciate that he’s not willing to hear our secrets.
I sit by Astra and open the journal, while my brother, Lidiane, Ferer, and Ziven sit at the table.
Renel glances at it. “Was this all you found?”
“Yes,” I say. “But it’s clearly meant for me.”
I open it and read it out loud.
Marlak,
These notes are for you. If you’re reading this, it’s because you were able to open the coffer containing it. It means that I’m no longer in this world, and you’re now the king of the Crystal Court. If any of the content here surprises you, it’s because I didn’t have time to explain it to you, so I need you to read it carefully and heed my advice.
Being a king means caring for your people and your land, and ensuring your subjects are satisfied and support your reign. In your case, you have one additional task, the most important of all, I’d say, and the reason why I chose you to be my heir.
I glance at my brother, who raises an eyebrow as if saying, “I told you.” Then I continue reading.
Your fire magic hasn’t been seen in generations. It’s a unique power, a mighty gift. A gift not to be squandered.
Now pay attention to my words. Some call me delusional, but I am certain of what I’m about to tell you. The Witch King was never killed—not truly, at least. He was defeated and weakened enough to be imprisoned, but there’s no guarantee that his containment will last forever. While he lives, he’ll be a threat to our kingdom. Powerful fire magic is the only thing that can destroy him. It’s your magic. Your gift, amplified tenfold by your royal status.
What you must do is find his prison. It’s an ancient underground Tiurian sanctuary in the north of the Shadow Lands. The Shadow Ring can lead you to it.
I glare at Renel.
“What?” He shrugs. “You’re the one who gave away the relic.”
“Yes, and where is it now?”
Renel is still wearing the stupid replica and stares at his hand. “You’re sure it’s not this?”
I snort. “No. It has no magic. And how did you even get the original Shadow Ring? It was given to the human king.”
“Otavio borrowed it, then lent it to me. I kept it hidden, Marlak. Azur was the only one who knew where it was, and he was bound to me at the time.”
“Did Zorwal ever see it?” Astra asks.
“No.” Renel shakes his head. “It was in my room.”
I tap a finger to my chin. “Someone was cunning enough not only to steal it, but to replace it with a replica. The problem is that it doesn’t work if it’s stolen, but maybe whoever took it didn’t know, or maybe they just wanted to sell it. A servant, maybe?”
“They were enchanted.”
“Zorwal, perhaps?” Lidiane suggests. “If he’s so powerful, perhaps he can sense a strong relic, and he could have taken it to prevent Renel from using it against him.”
“What about Otavio?” Astra asks. “Maybe it was time to return it to the king.”
Renel scratches his chin. “He wouldn’t be allowed in the royal area. We’ll figure it out. Keep reading. Maybe there’s another way.”
I huff, extremely annoyed that we’re facing this hurdle now, then take Astra’s hand. I still don’t regret giving that ring. What upsets me is that I can’t find it now.
The ring will shine red when it’s close to the Witch King, and that can help you locate his prison. You might also sense his magic. It’s far north in the Shadow Lands. You should take a boat to the Northern Tip. There’s a pier there. Arrive early in the morning because his prison is two hours south, by the first rocky hills in the desert side. Don’t try to walk in the Shadow Lands at night. It’s too dangerous.
The entrance to his sanctuary is hidden by pebbles and false ground covering a copper trapdoor that will lead you to a tunnel and to his sanctuary. Be careful. Ghoulscan survive underground, and there might be some of them there. Fire can kill them. The Witch King will be in a glass encasement. You’ll have to be fast. Break it, then burn it. Use the most powerful fire blast you can muster, and keep blasting him for at least thirty seconds.
“Like a recipe,” Ziven mutters, and I glare at him, then continue reading.
Do not hesitate. Do not fear. Bring a small retinue of trusted guards to watch your back and fight the ghouls.
