Thorns of the Moonlit Throne
Volume 5 — Chapter 6: Where Silence Took Root
Writer: Sabbir Ahmed
The city of Lethryn did not fall.
It stilled.
Lyriana arrived at its gates expecting fire, panic, or ruin. Instead, she found order—too much of it. Streets were spotless. Doors stood open. People moved with calm precision, their faces serene, their eyes empty of urgency or desire.
No laughter echoed.
No arguments sparked.
No prayers were spoken.
"It's already finished," Eryon whispered, shadows recoiling as if burned by the quiet.
At the city's center, the fragment hovered above the council hall, embedded within a lattice of frozen light. Scholars stood beneath it, hands folded, their great debates reduced to shared, unquestioned agreement.
Lyriana stepped forward. "People of Lethryn," she called. "You are free. You may choose to leave."
They turned as one.
A woman stepped forward—robes pristine, voice calm. "We have chosen," she said gently. "We have chosen peace."
Aryn staggered as the Shadowmark flared violently. He saw what Lyriana could not—beneath the calm, the fragment was feeding. Not on fear, but on surrender.
"It's too late," he gasped. "They gave consent… without understanding the cost."
Lyriana's breath caught. Freedom had always required choice—but what if choice itself was manipulated?
Eryon struck at the lattice, shadows clashing with frozen light. The fragment pulsed once.
And Lethryn went quiet.
Not empty. Not destroyed.
Paused.
People froze mid-step. Words died in throats. Even the wind halted. The city became a living monument to stillness.
Lyriana screamed as time slipped from her grasp, the crown blazing uselessly. She could not command what no longer moved.
The fragment withdrew, drifting skyward—its purpose fulfilled.
Aryn fell to his knees, tears cutting through the dust. "This is what he wants," he whispered. "Not death. An ending without violence."
Lyriana stood among the frozen people, hands trembling. A queen without subjects could still rule. But what was a queen to those who no longer lived?
Eryon's voice was dark with certainty. "This was a lesson."
Far beyond the stars, the Architect observed the silent city.
"Progress," he said softly.
Lyriana lifted her head, grief hardening into fury. "Then we change the rules," she vowed. "Before the world learns to stop breathing."
Behind her, Lethryn remained—perfect, silent, and lost.