Chapter 6: Echoes Beneath the Throne
Kael's steps echoed through the catacombs beneath the palace—ancient tunnels built by kings long dead. His shadow flickered against the torch-lit walls, stretching like a beast hungry for release.
Only Seris followed him.
"This is where the Abyss first whispered to me," Kael said, voice low. "Where I touched the darkness and it touched back."
Seris glanced around the ancient stonework. Etchings lined the walls—forgotten symbols of gods lost to time. They pulsed faintly, reacting to Kael's presence.
"You shouldn't come down here alone," she warned.
Kael offered a cold smile. "There's nothing down here that can harm me."
Seris didn't reply—but her silence said otherwise.
They reached the final chamber: a dome of black stone, older than the palace above it. At its center stood a monolith, smooth as glass, humming with power. The Abyssal Seal.
"I saw it again," Kael said, eyes locked on the monolith. "The vision. The light that never dies."
Seris frowned. "A prophecy?"
"A warning," he replied. "Something is coming. Strong enough to challenge even the Abyss."
Seris stepped closer to him. "Then we strike first. Send our agents. Root out every threat."
"No," Kael said. "This isn't a rebellion. It's something deeper… ancient."
He reached out, placing his palm on the monolith.
The stone rippled beneath his touch.
And then the voices returned.
"Your crown is forged of borrowed power…"
"The one who walks in starlight shall rise…"
"Even the abyss has predators."
Kael staggered back, eyes wide.
"Did you hear them?" he whispered.
Seris shook her head slowly.
Kael looked down at his hand.
A mark had burned itself into his palm—glowing red, shaped like a serpent devouring its tail.
"Something is awakening," Kael said.
---
Hours later, Kael stood in the war chamber with his inner circle—General Vaen, High Magister Thalos, and Seris.
He unrolled a map of the continent. His fingers pointed to the deadlands beyond the eastern mountains—a place abandoned for centuries.
"The seal spoke of the Serpent. Of something older than the Abyss itself," Kael said.
Thalos raised an eyebrow. "There are legends. A god-devourer. A force sealed by the first kings. No one alive has crossed into the eastern wastes."
"We'll be the first," Kael said. "I want a full scouting division prepared by dawn."
Vaen hesitated. "My lord… with respect, we've only just quelled the rebellion. Moving forces east may embolden your enemies."
Kael met his gaze. "They won't matter if this thing wakes up."
Reluctantly, Vaen nodded.
"What about the girl?" Seris asked.
Kael frowned. "Celindra?"
Seris shook her head. "No. The other one."
She placed a report on the table. A drawing of a young woman with silver hair and violet eyes.
"She was seen near the ruined temples in the north. Locals claim she glowed—radiated light. She healed the sick with a touch."
Kael's eyes narrowed.
"The Light That Never Dies," he murmured.
Seris nodded. "I believe she's the prophecy."
"And if she is," Kael said, "then she's the only thing in this world that can destroy me."
---
In the tower above the city, Celindra stared out through iron bars.
Though her magic was sealed, her spirit remained unbroken.
She had heard rumors.
Whispers of rebellion crushed.
Of Alric Thorne turned to ash.
And of Kael, retreating further into shadows.
She closed her eyes and whispered a prayer—not to gods, but to the girl in the north.
"If there's truly a light that cannot die," she said, "find it. Please."
A faint wind passed through the tower. Warm. Comforting.
Celindra's eyes opened, and for the first time in weeks… she smiled.
---
Days later, Kael rode with Seris and a battalion of shadow knights eastward toward the forgotten lands. The air grew cold as they passed the mountains, and even the shadows seemed to retreat.
They reached the border of the deadlands.
The sky above was a swirling void of gray clouds, and the ground pulsed with faint crimson veins—like the earth itself bled from ancient wounds.
"What happened here?" Seris asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Kael dismounted and approached a shattered altar half-buried in ash. Symbols etched into its surface began to glow at his approach.
Then a deep rumble shook the earth.
Kael turned, drawing Abyssbrand.
From the cracked ground, a creature rose.
Not of flesh.
But bone, ash, and shadow.
Its eyes burned gold.
A sentinel.
"Form ranks!" Kael shouted.
The knights moved, but the creature moved faster—blades of bone sprouting from its arms as it cut through two men in an instant.
Kael launched forward, his blade clashing with the creature's in a burst of darkness. Power rippled from his strike, shattering the nearby stones.
But the creature didn't fall.
It laughed.
"The Abyss is a child's toy. You are no god."
Then it slammed Kael back.
Only Seris's shield of shadow saved him.
"Retreat!" Kael ordered.
The knights fell back, dragging the wounded.
Kael, panting, watched the creature sink back into the earth.
It hadn't been trying to kill him.
It had been testing him.
And he had failed.
---
That night, Kael sat by the campfire, wounded, his palm still glowing with the serpent mark.
Seris sat beside him, silent.
After a long pause, Kael finally said, "I'm not ready."
She looked at him, surprised.
"I thought I was a king," he whispered. "A conqueror. A god."
"You are," she said, placing a hand on his arm.
He looked into the fire. "Then why do I feel so... small?"
She didn't answer.
Because in that moment, they both knew—
This was only the beginning.
The empire was built atop a grave.
And something beneath it… was starting to stir.