Thorns of the Moonlit Throne
Volume 5 — Chapter 10: Face of the Unyielding
Writer: Sabbir Ahmed
The northern ridge glowed with fractured starlight, casting jagged shadows across Arvandor's fields. Lyriana, Aryn, and Eryon stood together, the crown pulsing softly on her head, the Shadowmark burning along Aryn's wrist like a beacon of defiance.
Through the shards, a figure emerged—the Architect himself. No mortal had ever looked upon him and lived unchanged. Perfection radiated from every line, every gesture, yet there was a coldness that no crown or Shadowmark could temper.
"You interfere again," the Architect said, voice calm, echoing unnaturally across the ridge. "I offered stability. You refuse it."
Lyriana stepped forward, boots crunching on frost-hardened soil. "You offered control disguised as stability. People are not yours to pause, nor cities yours to preserve in silence."
The shards shifted, responding to the queen's defiance. Aryn felt them pressing, probing, testing the Shadowmark's limits. "He's learning from us," Aryn muttered. "Every word, every choice… it adapts."
The Architect's gaze swept over them, precise and unsettling. "Then let us test the ultimate experiment," he said. With a gesture, the ground fractured, splitting into mirror images of reality, each one a city frozen mid-breath. Lethryn, Velmor, and smaller villages all appeared at once, each a reflection of the consequences of choice.
Eryon's shadows surged, wrapping around the edges of the mirrors. "You think chaos is weakness," he growled. "But even fragments bend to life that chooses."
Lyriana raised her hand, crown glowing brighter. "We are not fragments. We are the will of the living. And we will fight for it."
Aryn stepped beside her, Shadowmark flaring in resonance. "I'll go into the network again," he said. "But this time, he'll feel every heartbeat of choice we have."
The Architect inclined his head, almost amused. "Then begin," he said. "Show me the unpredictability of life. Show me why perfection cannot endure."
A tremor ran through the fractured reality. The shards pulsed violently. The Shadowmark surged. And for the first time, the Architect's expression faltered—not fear, but uncertainty.
Lyriana gritted her teeth. "Then let him see that hearts cannot be rewritten. Destiny is ours to choose."
Above them, the fractured sky shimmered, as the war between choice and stillness truly began.