The morning came cold and dim beneath the earth, the torchlight along the stone corridors casting a pale imitation of dawn. In the main hall of the fort, Seris stood in her traveling cloak, armored and ready. Beside her, Rythe was already in full battle gear, helm tucked beneath his arm, sword strapped across his back. The air around them hummed with unspoken urgency.
Rythe's gaze swept the gathered faces. "Lareth—you are to stay here with Renna, Cale, and Mira. You will be joined by the Imperial Knights and the hounds." His voice was clear, measured, as if carved in steel. He turned slightly, addressing the others. "The rest of you are to come with me. Aurean—" his eyes lingered briefly on him, "—you stay here as well. My family can't fight, not truly, though they've been training for months. The Verethian will be of help to you. Please… all of you, be safe."
Lareth's jaw tightened. He stepped closer to Rythe, drawing him aside. "My prince… why am I not going with you?"
Rythe's eyes were steady but grave. "Lareth… you have Renna now. Think properly."
"But my duty to you—and to the empire—comes first," Lareth insisted, his voice low but fierce.
"If that is truly what you think," Rythe said, his tone softening even as his words cut with finality, "then I'm ordering you to stay behind. Protect them. All of them. That is your duty today."
Lareth's protest died on his lips. He bowed his head, silent.
One by one, Rythe's siblings stepped forward—Maleus, Rhalia, Kael, Dain, Vaela, Elion, and Astrid—each pulling him into a fierce embrace. Their parents came last. No words were exchanged; there was no need. The tears in their eyes said enough.
Across the hall, Aurean stood motionless, watching the scene unfold as if from a distance. He could not think. He could not feel. The noise of footsteps, the rustle of armor, the low murmur of voices—all seemed to fade into a hollow quiet. Something in him felt untethered, lost.
When all was done, Rythe gave a short nod. Without another word, he and Seris turned and walked toward the heavy iron doors at the far end of the hall. The guards swung them open, and the two figures passed into the shadows beyond, leaving the rest behind in the flickering torchlight.
The sound of the doors sealing shut echoed like the toll of a bell.
Several hours had passed since Rythe and Seris had ridden out.
The fortified chamber felt colder now, as though the stone walls themselves absorbed the unease that hung over everyone. Aurean sat with the royal siblings and their spouses, all huddled together in one corner, the flickering lamplight casting restless shadows across their faces.
Kael broke the silence first, shifting uncomfortably. "Shouldn't there be noises? Or… something?"
"Exactly," Dain said, glancing toward the heavy door. "At the very least, there should be some kind of sound. Even distant steel or shouts. But nothing."
Maleus's voice came sharper, his frustration barely contained. "Truthfully, I don't know which is worse—waiting in here or being out there. And these creatures… these powers—why are we only hearing of them now?" He looked around at his siblings before fixing his gaze on Aurean. "How is this even possible? I know we've all been thinking it since Rythe spoke up and that mysterious woman appeared."
His words left a thick pause in the air. Then Aurean spoke, his tone steady but carrying the weight of memories. "As crazy as it sounds, everything is true. I saw more than I can count during my time in Virelia. At first, I was at a loss—terrified, even—but eventually… I got used to it." He let his eyes drop to the floor, his voice quieter. "I decided to keep it to myself, the same way the knights do. Because these are things you can't truly understand by explanation alone—you have to see them, face them… survive them."
The siblings were silent, watching him.
"And now that I think of it," Aurean continued, his voice softening to something almost fragile, "Rythe… he is truly pitiful. He's carried a weight far too heavy for one man—shouldering the burden of an entire empire. All these years, while the empire thrived and survived, oblivious to the constant sacrifices being made to keep it so." His gaze grew distant. "And never once has he wanted to be thanked… or even acknowledged for it."
He looked at them now, his eyes almost accusing in their sadness. "The empire loves him for being a strong soldier, for defending them. But I doubt any of us truly understand how deep that defending goes."
By the time Aurean finished, the siblings' eyes were already glistening, some wiping at tears they tried to hide. The room felt heavier still—not from fear of what lay outside, but from the sharp ache of realizing what Rythe had endured alone.