The night air felt heavier than before, as if the weight of the vision still clung to Lysandra's skin. She took a shaky breath, forcing herself to move. She had to reach Jael.
Her mind reeled with the words of the masked figure.
"The heir was never meant to take the throne."
"Your curse is the key. The god is waking."
She didn't understand it fully, but one thing was clear—Aldric's rule wasn't just a political disaster. It was a catastrophe waiting to unfold.
And she was at the center of it.
A Tattered Reunion
By the time she reached the shrine near the river, the first hints of dawn had begun to bleed across the sky.
Jael was already there, pacing restlessly. His clothes were torn, his hair disheveled, and there was a thin cut across his cheek—but he was alive.
Relief flooded through her.
"You made it," he breathed, stepping forward. "I thought—" He stopped himself. His gaze flickered over her face, searching. "You're pale. What happened?"
Lysandra hesitated.
How could she explain what she had seen? That something older, something powerful had just whispered a prophecy in her ear?
That a forgotten god was waking?
She settled on: "I had a… visitor."
Jael's brow furrowed. "Who?"
She shook her head. "Not a person. Not—normal." She swallowed hard. "Jael, we have a bigger problem than your father."
Jael stiffened, his shoulders tensing at the mention of Aldric. "What do you mean?"
Lysandra took a deep breath, then told him everything.
A Prophecy Unfolds
By the time she finished, Jael's expression had darkened. He turned away, running a hand through his hair.
"This doesn't make sense," he muttered. "If Aldric was never meant to take the throne… then why did he go to such lengths to claim it?"
Lysandra frowned. "Maybe he doesn't know."
Jael scoffed. "Aldric knows everything."
"Then maybe someone is keeping secrets from him," she countered. "Or maybe—" She hesitated. "Maybe this isn't just about power."
Jael's jaw clenched.
They both knew Aldric wasn't just another greedy ruler. He had been ruthless in his takeover, but what if he was afraid of something?
What if this was never just about controlling the kingdom, but about keeping something buried?
Lysandra's stomach twisted.
Aldric wasn't their only enemy.
A City Under Siege
Far away, back in the capital, the people were waking to a different kind of dawn.
The once-proud city was on edge.
Aldric's soldiers patrolled the streets in double numbers. Whispers spread like wildfire—of an impending war, of a darkness creeping into the city, of something unnatural in the air.
And at the heart of it all, in the grand palace, Aldric sat alone in his chambers.
His fingers drummed against the armrest of his throne. His eyes were unreadable as he stared into the flickering firelight.
He had felt it.
Something stirring in the shadows.
Something waking.
His grip tightened.
Whatever was coming… he would be ready.