Maelor was first, stepping into the light with robes of charred silk and the faint smell of death. His staff pulsed like a heartbeat. “Your patience wanes, my Prince,” he rasped. “You would do well to remember, Aether burns faster when rushed.”
“I don’t need patience,” Kaen said. “I need results.”
Vaelgor appeared next, smooth as glass, silver eyes reflecting Kaen’s own hunger. “Results come with blood, dear Prince. Surely you understand that by now.”
Kaen turned his gaze to the Shadow Sovereign. “And you, Morcarion? Still watching from the veil, or will you finally join us in this realm?”
Morcarion’s laughter came like wind over graves. “You open the Rift a little more each day. Soon, I will not need to hide.”
“And Kors?” Kaen asked. “Where is my Warden?” The ground trembled. The Bone Warden emerged from the far tunnel, his armor slick with marrow and ichor, the blood of the dead.
“At your command,” he growled, voice like stones grinding. “The corpses of your enemies are ready to march.”
Kaen slowly descended the dais, the four dark masters forming a circle around him. “You’ve had your amusements, your rituals, and your experiments. But now the game changes. The realm sleeps under the illusion of peace. It’s time they woke.”
Maelor’s withered lips curved. “And what do you wish us to strike first?”
Kaen’s eyes flicked back to the glowing map. His finger hovered over the Frost Mire Expanse, the hidden mountain pass near the Asgar Training Academy, the same one used by Thaelyn’s squad the night she was taken.
“The Asgar Training Academy,” he said. “It must burn.”
Maelor tilted his head. “Risky. The Queen and the Watchers of the Rift watch the skies there. The dragons?—”
“Will come to me,” Kaen cut in. “The Triumvirate’s failure before gave me what I needed. I’ve studied her bond, her dragon’scall. When the attack begins, she’ll sense it. She’ll fight. And when she fights,” His smile sharpened. “The Rift will answer.”
Vaelgor chuckled softly, his form flickering in and out of light. “You mean to bait her power again.”
“Yes,” Kaen said simply. “Thaelyn Marren is the key. The Aether and her dragon answer her blood. And Thorne’s dragon, his fire, will feed the storm. Together, they can tear the Veil apart, or close it forever.” He paused. “Either way, I win.”
Maelor’s staff struck the floor once. The chamber lights dimmed. “The first wave begins.”
Kaen turned toward the balcony as the army below shifted restlessly, creatures made of smoke and sinew, bone and blood. Necromancers raised their hands in unison, calling the storm. The air crackled with unholy energy as the Rift pulsed overhead, its violet glow spreading like spilled ink across the sky.
Far to the east, the lightning forked toward the Asgar Training Academy.
Morcarion’s voice slithered through the chamber. “The Queen will see your hand in this, Prince.”
Kaen’s smile didn’t waver. “You leave her to me. By the time she moves, her beloved academy will be ash.” He looked once more toward the glowing city markers, his eyes settling on the one marked Aether Rift, the sealed ruins, once lost behind the Veil. “And when they burn,” he said softly, “we’ll open what’s been closed since the Sundering.” He raised his hand. “Unleash them.”
The sound that followed was not thunder; it was something older, something alive. The armies of the dead rose from their trenches. Wings unfurled across the sky, winged beasts shaped from shadow and bone, their roars echoing down the mountains like a promise of ruin.
Vaelgor’s laughter filled the air. “So it begins.”
Kaen stood unmoving; eyes alight with cold fire, as the first shadow legions took flight. “Let them fear their Prince,” he whispered. “Let them kneel before their new King.”
That night, beneath the shelter of the eastern war tower, Commander Dareth stood with Queen Elyria under the flickering flame of a long-burning torch. The air held a charge, not from weather, but from fate.
"You didn’t fly today," the Queen said softly.
Commander Dareth glanced at her, his jaw clenched. "I stayed back for you. If anything had happened during that flight, we couldn’t risk leaving you exposed. Not with what Kaen’s planning."
Elyria looked away, her expression distant. "I feel the tension tightening with each breath. He’s no longer hiding his ambition."
Commander Dareth stepped closer, his tone grave. "I’ve been watching the sky charts, running calculations with the academy’s astrologers. We have five days. That’s all until the double blood moon aligns with the Aether starfall, and the celestial storm will split the sky."
"And the prophecy completes," Elyria whispered. "The last veil weakens."
Commander Dareth nodded. "If Kaen gains control of her before that, if he offers her blood to the necromancers or opens the Rift —"
