I approach the central table, its surface a detailed expanse of Eguina’s map. Hollie, still perched securely on Chepi, whispers, “They must be tracking more than just Sarrol attacks.”
Nodding, I release her and Chepi, taking a moment to ensure we’re alone. My focus narrows on the Sorcerer Realm section of the map. The handwritten notes and markers scattered across it are a clear indication of active surveillance—not on random beast attacks but on something much more orchestrated.
Squinting to decipher the tiny script, the reality hits me hard. They’re charting Samael’s movements and the burgeoning insurrection he and Kaine are fostering—directly aimed against me.
“Lyra, look, it’s a drawing of you!” Hollie exclaims from across the room, and I immediately know they must have one of Kaine’s flyers. I join her and inspect the board in front of us, plastered with parchments. In a handful of weeks, more flyers have been distributed. Samael has been found, and he has retaken the throne, regaining quite a following, it seems. He was so weakened the last time I saw him, so how did he regain his strength and power so quickly? The people know he was a terrible leader. Do they truly believe Iwill be worse?
“Why are they so afraid of your dark magic?” Hollie asks, glancing over one of the flyers about me.
“Dark magic hasn’t been around in a very long time. They fear what they don’t understand, believing the stories they’re told,” I explain. The Sorcerers recognize Samael as a dark leader, aware that he practiced dark spells, but he never truly possessed dark magic.
They must think I will be like him, only worse. I can’t entirely blame them. To my people, I am a mystery, and with Kaine pushing his narrative, their fears are only amplified.
I turn to see more papers on the table detailing troop movements and alliances with various minor lords in the Sorcerer Realm. It’s clear that Kaine has been weaving a complex web, building up military and political support for Samael’s return. I can’t help but feel a pang of betrayal. These are my people, and yet they rally behind a known tyrant because of fear stoked by lies about my magic. I don’t want to blame them, but the feeling of betrayal starts to fester in my chest.
“This is worse than I thought,” I murmur, scanning the documents for any mention of plans directly targeting me or Colton.
Hollie hovers close, her tiny form barely casting a shadow over the parchments. “We need to tell Colton about this. He should know.”
“No, not yet,” I decide abruptly. “I need to understand the full extent of their plans. We can’t alarm him without knowing our next move. Plus, he’s dealing with his family.”
Another alarming thought crosses my mind. What if Colton already knows about all of this and has been keeping it from me? We agreed—no more lies, no more secrets. If he knew and didn’t tell me... I shake my head, not wanting to entertain the thought. There’s no way he would keep this from me. Nyx might, given our strained relations, but Colton...
“Come on. I’ve seen enough of this place for now. Let’s go back home,” I tell Chepi and Hollie, and they fly over to me immediately. As I prepare to channel us back, a nagging thought lingers. Weapons are everywhere, and Dorian, Nyx’s main weapons supplier, is also Colton’s best friend—a man he meets with often. It’s hard to believe Dorian would keep such secrets from Colton. How could Colton not know? The doubt seeds deeper as we vanish from the camp.
“Something’s here!”I shout, grasping for Nyx’s hand, but it’s slipping away. The stage beneath us fractures, splintering wood and crumbling plaster plummeting into the abyss as unfamiliar shadows coil around my limbs, dragging me backward. The crowd blurs into chaos. Only Nyx’s haunting white eyes pierce the darkness as I’m swallowed whole.
A chilling screech echoes, like a gate flung wide. Yet when I spin around, it’s not the gates I face but an ancient throne room steeped in the weight of centuries. Each cautious step I take ignites the torches along the walls, their flames casting elongated, twisting shadows that murmur in an almost recognizable tongue.
At the room’s heart lies a throne of black obsidian, ensnared by twisted branches that mirror those at the gates, surrounded by a moat of molten silver shimmering under a moonlike glow. It beckons, and as my hand reaches out, drawn to the intricate tangle of branches, my gaze spots a crown aloft in the shadows above. Crafted from the same dark tendrils and studded with shifting gemstones, it morphs under my stare, a living part of the darkness.
As my fingers stretch, yearning to touch the ethereal crown, a cold claw clasps my chest from behind. Thegrip is iron-tight, anchoring me in place as a raspy, malicious whisper grazes my ear, “Embrace your destiny, for you are the bridge between worlds.” The words scratch through the air, sending shivers down my spine.
Gasping, I bolt upright in bed, my hand instinctively clutching my ear where the phantom breath still seems to linger.
As I search the room for Colton, I realize he isn’t here. I must have drifted to sleep while waiting for him after my unsettling visit to the camps. Chepi, lying at my feet, seems at ease despite my turmoil. I scoop him up, cuddling him close, and his immediate soft snoring against my chest helps to anchor my frayed nerves.
My heart still races as I try to wrap my head around the vision that disturbed my sleep. Was it a glimpse from my midnight mind, reaching beyond the gates into unknown realms or simply my own fears weaving into my subconscious as my wedding day and future reign as queen draw near? The vision of a dark throne suited for my shadowed magic makes me wonder if it reflects how my people perceive me—or perhaps it’s a deeper, more ominous prophecy about my destiny.
The thought of returning to Zomea, to confront those gates again, looms over me, but there are immediate challenges to face. My bonding ceremony is fast approaching, and I must step into my role to safeguard my realm, especially now with the uncertainty under Samael’s reign. The weight of these realities presses down, mixing with the whispers of my dream, reminding me of the critical path ahead.
Only the gods know what truly awaits, and I must be ready for anything.
Chapter 16
Lyra
It’s beena few days since my last dream, and the nightmare still haunts me. I can’t stop thinking about the visions I’m having, which are oddly similar to what the Echosphere showed me. Tonight is our engagement party at Colton’s parents’ palace—the Elders’ Palace—and I’m somewhat nervous, considering the last time I saw them was when I was in Drew’s throne room.
Colton comes up behind me while I’m getting ready in front of the mirror and wraps an arm around my waist, bending to kiss the top of my head. “You’ve had so many late nights recently. I feel like we’ve hardly had a chance to talk,” I say, looking at him in the mirror.
“I’m sorry. Tonight, after the party, I’ll take you somewhere special,” he replies, giving me a cheeky grin and winking in the mirror.
“I like the sound of that.” I turn to face him. He’s dressed nicely, beige pants with an off-white shirt, a black vest, and a black jacket adorned with fancy buttons. I reach up, putting my hands on his arms and savoring the feel of him as he leans downto kiss me. It’s a quick kiss, and then he moves away to let me finish getting ready, but a part of me wishes he would take me back to bed.
“So what have you been up to these late nights? Sorting things out with your parents?” I inquire, applying a swipe of red lipstick. I’ve given him space, waiting patiently for him to share on his own terms, but my curiosity has been piqued—especially after witnessing the military camps with Hollie.
“No, not exactly. I’ve actually been spending these past nights assisting Dorian,” he reveals.
