The chamber fell silent the moment Sir Kael stepped forward.
He did not bow as deeply as the others. His posture remained firm, his gaze steady, though something troubled lingered behind his eyes.
After a brief moment, Sir Kael asked everyone, his voice carrying across the vast circular hall, “answer one question.”
Every Sword Master in the chamber straightened. The torches lining the obsidian walls flickered against their armor, reflecting unease in glimmering streaks of gold and silver.
“When we destroy the circle,” Sir Kael continued, his tone slow and deliberate, “the spawning stops. The monsters spawned remain. All that is left is for us to kill them and put an end to their hideous life.
A murmur of agreement rippled through the room.
“Yes…”
“That is what happens.”
“It matches the previous patterns.”
Sir Kael nodded once. “That is correct,"
Master Black Onyx, seated two tiers below the throne, leaned forward. His voice cut through the quiet like a blade. “But your report differed this time.”
The words lingered heavily in the air.
Sir Kael inhaled slowly.
“Exactly,” he said. “If what we believe about the circles is true…"
He hesitated.
“…then something is wrong.”
Lord Serathen’s fingers tightened slightly on the armrest of his throne. Slowly, he lifted his gaze. When he spoke, the authority in his voice silenced even the faintest breath in the hall.
“Explain yourself.”
Kael’s jaw tightened.
“My lord… the moment I reached the circle, the monsters had already begun moving toward it. Some were retreating. Others were guarding it.”
His eyes flickered—not toward anyone in particular, but somewhere distant, buried in memory.
“I heard her scream.”
A few Masters shifted uncomfortably.
“I heard her call my name.”
The hall grew colder.
“But destroying the circle was paramount. If I delayed, the rift could have widened."
His voice grew hoarse.
“So I cut it down, But soon the remaining monsters were surrounded by a thick black cloud and vanished in it."
Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.
“The instant the circle shattered,” he continued quietly, “I heard her voice again. Faint. Distant.”
A pause.
“It’s just that when I found her…”
His fists clenched at his sides.
“She had collapsed. Her leg was bent in a way no human limb should be. Her eyes…”
His voice faltered.
“…her eyes were bleeding.”
The torches crackled.
When he finished speaking, he did not look at anyone. He simply stepped back.
Lord Serathen closed his eyes and exhaled deeply.
The weight of centuries pressed against his shoulders.
“I will go to the Archives,” he said at last.
A ripple of shock spread through the chamber.
“If within a week there are no further monster spawning,” he continued, “the ruined portal will be opened."
He rose from his throne, his robes cascading like liquid shadow down the steps.
“Let the meeting continue in the central region.”
Without another word, he left.
The chamber felt emptier without him.
Master Emerald stood next, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeve. “Let us speak face to face dear Sirs."
He left.
Others followed.
One by one, the Sword Masters departed—some thoughtful, others grim.
Master Amethyst remained seated.
A dull pressure began building behind his eyes.
He pressed two fingers to his temple.
A headache.
No… not a headache.
A vision pressing against the veil.
“Sir Aldren,” Kael’s voice cut in softly.
Amethyst lowered his hand.
“Did you see it?”
For a brief moment, something unreadable flickered across Amethyst’s face.
“Yes.”
Kael’s breath stilled.
“So… they’re coming?”
Amethyst’s gaze hardened. By his expressions alone Sir Kael understood.
Unable to speak the vision he saw, his voice struck and his head was aching as about to split open.
Sir kael noticed but he was helpless sine they both were in different regions.
“This,” he added quietly, “is the price I must pay.”, " Pay no mind to it."
He turned away.
“Meet me there when it begins. Until then—”
His tone shifted, softening slightly.
“Sir Kael… take care of that girl.”
With that, Master Amethyst—Aldren—left the chamber.
Sir Kael remained alone.
The echoes of the council lingered long after the footsteps had faded.
He closed his eyes.
Aldren was the Holder of the Amethyst Blade—the foreseer of Futures. His visions never lied.
But they were never complete.
They could not speak of what they saw.
They could only endure it.
Kael exhaled slowly and made his way toward the room.
The room was dim.
Only a single lantern burned near the far wall.
She lay on the narrow bed, one arm resting across her stomach, the other limp at her side.
As if nothing had happened.
But her skin was pale.
Too pale.
Kael pulled a chair beside her and sat down quietly.
His gaze turned towards the ceiling, staring at it.
He closed her eyes briefly.
“We all will be out of cages soon,” he murmured, his voice fragile but steady.
He smiled faintly.
But he knew.
Deep down, beneath that calm expression, he knew what was coming.
The future was not freedom.
It was war.
Outside, the wind howled faintly against the castle walls.
“I’m sorry,” Kael whispered.
She didn’t answer.
Perhaps she had already fallen asleep.
Or perhaps she simply didn’t want him to see the fear in her eyes.
Kael remained there long after the lantern burned low.
He thought of the circle.
Of the monsters dissolving into ash.
Of her voice telling him to leave..
And of Master Amethyst’s expression.
They are coming.
Whoever “they” were… the council feared them.
The Dravkin had not failed in a thousand years.
The Divine Beasts did not make mistakes.
The Severin did not release what it swallowed.
And yet—
She had survived.
Kael leaned back slowly, exhaustion creeping into his bones.
If this was the calm before the storm…
Then the coming future would not merely shake Teravyn.
It would shatter it.
He drew in one final deep breath.
Outside the severn, far beyond the borders of the central region…
Something stirred.
And for the first time in a thousand years—
The balance trembled
