The next day,
Rina's POV
The skies above Astralis, capital of the Hidden Dominion, were the color of ash and bruised steel. Stormlight glimmered weakly through the clouds, casting the city in an eternal twilight that made even the angels look haunted.
I sat in the back of an obsidian-black Lamborghini, watching the gothic towers pass by like the spines of sleeping beasts. The streets of Astralis pulsed faintly with leyfire - veins of magic running through the marble, silver-blue and restless.
My reflection ghosted across the tinted glass: pale skin, white hair, hollowed eyes. The Witch of the West had returned from death, and today, I was being summoned to answer for it.
Beside me, Lady Evelyn Duskbane, my grandmother, was regal and terrible in violet and black velvet and a crown-shaped comb of moon flowers. The woman's every breath reeked of control; even the air around her seemed to obey her posture.
Across from me, Seraphina Angelis fidgeted in her white dress, small hands clutching her knees, lips moving in nervous prayer. Her blue eyes darted constantly toward me, as though afraid I might fade into mist again.
At the wheel sat the Shadow Emissary, a creature of absolute silence. His hooded form was made of smoke and shadow, his hands gloved in black steel. Power shimmered faintly around him - the unmistakable weight of something not entirely mortal.
The car slid through the city like a black omen. Pedestrians and nobles alike stopped to stare, their expressions veiled behind jeweled masks. I could almost hear the whispers trailing behind us:
"Ghost."
"Revenant."
"Cursed one."
The words pressed against my chest like phantom hands. I looked down at my own pale fingers and swallowed hard.
'Hold it together, Rina. You're not the prey today. You can't afford to be.'
When the car finally stopped, my breath hitched.
Before me stood the Council Hall, The Chamber of Aethelred. It rose like a cathedral sculpted from the remains of a god - spires twisting into the storm, the black stone veined with molten silver. Runes crawled across the walls like living serpents, whispering in forgotten tongues.
"Stay close," Lady Evelyn said. Her voice was silk drawn over steel.
I took my grandmother's gloved hand and together, we crossed the marble bridge toward the towering obsidian doors. The air grew heavier with each step. Inside, the corridors were a labyrinth of black stone and floating light. The torches burned with cold blue flame, their fire unmoving, trapped in perfect stillness.
The Shadow Emissary moved ahead, his cloak rippling like liquid night. Behind him came Lady Evelyn - her heels clicking like the ticking of a clock - and little Sera, clutching her skirt in terror.
The vast doors of the Council Chamber loomed ahead, sealed by seven silver bands etched with celestial glyphs. The Emissary raised one hand; reality wavered, and the bands broke open with a hiss of ancient magic. The doors parted, and silence swallowed everything, as I stepped into the chamber alone.
It was vast, circular, and suffocatingly magnificent. Black marble stretched endlessly beneath my feet, veined with crimson light. High above, a domed ceiling swirled with storm clouds trapped in enchantment. From its center hung a chandelier forged from the bones of fallen stars.
Ten thrones - carved from onyx and fireglass - formed a crescent dais, facing her. Upon them sat the Council of Ten, the Decemvirate of Shadows and Fire, each radiating a power so distinct it felt like ten worlds colliding.
I scanned them, cataloging the terrifying lineup from the novel:
Lord Dexter Valerius, High Vampire Chancellor, sitting first, his molten silver hair and eyes the red of aged wine flickering with patient cruelty. Selena Moondrake, Witch High Regent, shimmering beside him in robes sewn with living runes. Her crown was thorns and crescent moons, her beauty was a weapon of mass destruction.
Kaelen Ironfang, Alpha Marshal of the Lycans and other Werecreatures, towering like a siege engine, his amber eyes twin furnaces. Cassiel the Unyielding, Archangel Arbiter, his golden wings folded tight, his presence scorching as he gazed at me.
Asmodan Veythar, Demon Minister of Pacts, lounging with a perfect, deadly smile. Tharion Embervault, the Dragon Treasurer, smoke curling from his gilded scales.
Lady Elaris Thornveil, Fae Emissary, beautiful, cold, and with swordsmanship precise enough to wound. Morthos Gravemind, Necromancer Overseer, was half decay and half persistence, his bone quill scratching softly.
Aeris Stormrend, Elemental Warden, his body a shimmering mix of fire and water.
And presiding over all, Nymera of the Veil, Oracle of Time. Her veil shimmered with galaxies; she was blind, but she looked not at me, but through me - into the threads of my past and future.
I stepped into the center of the chamber - the circle of judgment - where light from a single star-shaped window fell upon me like a celestial blade. All eyes were upon me, but every whisper and every breath stilled, as Lord Valerius rose.
"Lady Lumira Duskbane," he said softly, his voice echoing like the turning of a page in a forbidden book. "The revenant witch who sealed the Demon King of the South and defied death itself. Do you know why you stand before us?"
I bowed low, my voice steady despite the tremor beneath it.
"No, my lord. I can only beg for the Council's wisdom to illuminate me."
'Submission, Rina.' I mentally reminded myself, 'Give them the performance with flourish and you'll survive.'
"Then hear it," Valerius nodded, satisfied with my diction. "The Council acknowledges your deeds - and the salvation of the Hidden Realms."
Selena Moondrake rose next, her every motion was poetry edged with poison.
"Come forward, child. Receive the mark of your new title as a reward for sealing the Demon King."
I moved toward her, the ground thrumming beneath my feet. When Selena's hand descended, pain seared through my wrist - white-hot, pure, and absolute. I gasped, falling to one knee as silver light carved a crescent sigil into my flesh. The scent of ozone and blood mingled in the air.
"Rise," Selena said coldly. "You are now the High Arcanist of the Moon Seal. So long as you breathe, your power will answer the tides and the moon's command. So long as you stand, the Council will watch your every step."
The room trembled, as I rose, clutching my burning wrist, the silver glow pulsing with my heartbeat. They had chained my power to their command.
Then Cassiel stood up next as Lord Valerius and Lady Selena sat down - his wings unfurling like dawn breaking over ruins.
"What reward shall you claim, revenant?" His voice was deep as thunder. "Choose wisely. The Council does not offer blank cheques twice."
I exhaled slowly, as he sat back down. Every nerve screamed to stay silent. Every instinct warned me to kneel again and ask for a pardon, a meaningless title, or a bag of gold.
But I knew the plot, and I knew the rules. This was the one moment where the Council's sacred law compelled them to grant any non-harmful request so I had to exploit it.
I lifted my chin.
"Honored Council of Shadows and Fire," I began, my tone calm, precise, and razor-sharp. "I am humbled beyond words to stand before the Great Ten. To be recognized as High Arcanist of the Moon Seal is a grace I scarcely deserve. Your wisdom has preserved our realms through countless ages, and today, I kneel in awe of that majesty."
Valerius's lips curved faintly with the shadow of approval as I went on my knees, bowing my head in reverence. Selena's gaze glimmered with amusement, and Asmodan leaned forward, now interested in my performance.
Then I spoke the words that silenced the hall.
"If it pleases the Council," I said softly, my voice gaining a final, terrifying clarity, "I have but one request."
I then sensed as Lady Evelyn, seated in the gallery above, going rigid with nervousness she refused to facially show... even Sera stopped breathing.
"I want the Wastelands of Nespresso returned to me."
The words cracked through the silence like a whip.
The silence that followed was a terrifying lack of sound as every eye in the vast, vaulted chamber widened in shock.