It was the silence that proved hardest to bear. Most cities pulsed with some echo of life—laughter, footsteps, the distant murmur of voices, even the sharp sting of screams. But here, the only sound that met Kage’s ears was the crackling hiss of fire curling over timber, leaping from branch to branch like a living thing with hunger in its belly.
He followed Arden wordlessly, ignoring the bodies that lay slumped along the pathways and hanging platforms. Arden pressed ahead with grim purpose, his steps driven, as if he knew precisely where to go. The fire had spread far and wide, some of the arboreal homes were already beyond reach, swallowed whole by flame, while others clung to the illusion of peace, untouched but shadowed by smoke.
As they passed, Kage’s stomach knotted with growing unease. Floridia might have been smaller than the other capitals, but it had still been a city. A proud one. A stronghold of the Fae, built on ancient magic and guarded by warriors of legend.
And yet… wherever he looked, death met his eyes. The still forms of its people lay strewn like fallen leaves, lifeless and silent.
An entire city, snuffed out like a candle.
‘Spirox, search for survivors,’ Kage commanded, and without hesitation, the shadow-crow launched into the air, vanishing into the smoke-thickened skies in pursuit of life. Kage paused at the edge of the platform, casting a fleeting glance downwards, his thoughts momentarily lingering on the greatwhite wolf below. Alone. His lips curled into a quiet curse, irked by his own concern for such a formidable creature, and yet he could not quell it. With a sigh, he pressed on.
He found Arden standing motionless at the mouth of a bridge, his gaze fixed upon the tree that rose on the other side, as if waiting for it to speak.
‘We should move quickly,’ Kage urged, his voice low. ‘The winds are turning. The flames will spread more fiercely soon, and the air will thicken with smoke.’
Arden gave a brief nod, and together they crossed the narrow bridge. What awaited them was grim—a pair of fallen guards, blood trickling from eyes and ears like crimson tears. Kage knelt beside one, fingers pressing to a lifeless throat though he already knew there was nothing to find. Still, he checked every body they passed, each one a silent echo of what had once been.
Eventually, their path led them to what could only be the throne room. A colossal seat, woven entirely from ancient branches, stood vacant in the gloom, a monument to a rule extinguished.
Arden pressed on, and Kage followed, slower, more cautious. They came upon the royal dining chamber, and there lay the king, sprawled lifeless upon the floor.
Kage’s eyes narrowed as he noted the neat line of corpses slumped against the far wall, their positioning precise.
‘Black Lotus?’ he asked, voice taut with unease.
Arden nodded and crouched by the fallen king, two fingers against the throat in a gesture more of ritual than hope. He muttered a curse beneath his breath.
‘Only witches could have wrought such devastation,’ Kage muttered, his voice heavy with quiet certainty.
‘Upon an entire city?’ Arden asked, doubt shining in his green eyes.
‘You saw what they did to Fireheart.’
‘And against the Black Lotus?’ Arden gestured towards the fallen bodies, their lifeless forms strewn across the marble like broken statues.
Kage exhaled, the sound more wearied than frustrated. ‘There may be other forces at play…’
The thought of divine interference prickled at the edge of his mind. He had witnessed Freya’s unnatural power. Who was to say there weren’t others? Ancient beings, awakened or enraged, choosing sides in the shadows. If such powers had allied with the witches, it might explain how Floridia, a city fortified by magic and warriors, had crumbled so swiftly, so utterly.
‘We must find the queen and her daughters,’ Arden urged, already striding from the ruined hall.
Kage held his tongue. The likelihood that the royal bloodline had survived was minimal, but there was no kindness in voicing such grim logic. He followed the Fae in silence, the two of them weaving through grand chambers reduced to tombs, pausing now and then to check for any sign of breath amidst the ruin.
‘They can’t have gone far,’ Arden said as they finally emerged back into the open air. They stopped at a bridge, the once-splendid arches now blackened with soot. ‘Perhaps they were taken. The queen and her daughters may be prisoners.’
‘To what end?’ Kage’s voice was flat, unyielding. He did not want to speak the truth aloud: the witches were not known for mercy. Their war was one of erasure, not capture.
But before Arden could respond, the air fractured with a sudden blast of magic. The force hurled them both backwards, flames and ash scattering in its wake. Kage scrambled up, vision blurred, ears ringing, only to find a cluster of witches and warlocks standing at the far end of the bridge.
They were close enough that he could see the glint of their eyes, glimmering violet, alight with cruel delight.
‘Told you someone should’ve stayed behind,’ one of the witches drawled, her voice laced with amusement. ‘Someone always shows up.’
Kage and Arden shared a fleeting glance. A silent, grim acknowledgment before spinning on their heels and bolting for cover. The hiss of magic sliced through the air, slamming into the timbered walls of the huts perched precariously among the trees. Kage darted into one, ducking behind its frame as a blast shook the branches beneath his feet.
‘They’re crossing!’ Arden’s voice rang out, distant yet sharp.
Cursing under his breath, Kage sprang from the shelter, dagger already in hand, his stride swift and sure as he made for the bridge. As fate would have it, Arden arrived at the same moment, eyes alight with urgency.
