I rode on under the black sky, the ashen path stretching ahead like a dark river that guided me back to Ebonheart. Hours had passed since I’d fled the Sanctum, leaving behind the chaos that still burned fresh in my mind. My nightmare steed had gradually slowed from its initial frenzied gallop to a steady trot. The pace allowed the beast to conserve its strength while still maintaining good progress, though I could sense its growing weariness. The healing I’d performed on the horse earlier had saved its life, but the wound still needed time to fully mend. Still, the creature’s endurance amazed me—even injured, it pressed forward with unwavering determination.
Exhaustion and pain from my broken ribs had finally caught up with me. I slumped forward against the nightmare steed’s neck and drifted in and out of consciousness. The horse, seeming to sense my weariness, slowed to a careful walk and adjusted its gait, choosing smoother paths.
Time blurred as we traveled. Through my fatigue, I was faintly aware of the landscape changing from desolate wasteland to the more civilized territory surrounding Ebonheart’s outskirts. The darkness faded as dawn’s first light crept across the sky. I was a fugitive now, and I needed to maintain discretion as much as possible, though there was little hope of blending in while in Ebonheart. The nightmare steed’s otherworldly appearance and my own dark armor marked us clearly as servants of shadow. Like my last visit, I expected the citizens of Ebonheart to be wary of my presence and keep their distance.
The light whinny from my steed roused me from my exhausted stupor as we reached Ebonheart’s outer districts. Early risers were already emerging from their homes and preparing for the labor of the day—bakers readying their ovens, merchants setting up stalls, workers heading to warehouses.
As we traversed through the awakening city, the early morning crowd, as expected, parted before us like water around a stone, their eyes downcast, pretending not to notice the dark rider and his infernal steed.
Even the city guards found urgent business elsewhere. Their leadership structure was still in chaos as they debated who would be the next magistrate. The fiend’s sudden disappearance had left a power vacuum, and the city was in a state of political paralysis. They were too busy bickering amongst themselves to pay any attention to a lone blackguard and his companion.
The familiar path to the city’s oldest district wound through narrowing streets where ancient buildings leaned together like tired sentries. Here, the morning light barely penetrated between the aged structures, creating a blanket of shadows that suited both my needs and my mood. My ribs screamed in protest with each step of my mount, and I had to grit my teeth to keep from crying out.
The abandoned temple soon came into view, its weathered stone facade a testament to forgotten devotions. I guided my steed through the crooked doorway. Inside, the air was thick with dust and decay. What little morning light filtered through the broken windows created strange patterns on the debris-strewn floor.
At the far end of the temple’s main hall, I discovered a partially collapsed side chamber, what might have once been a private meditation room. The ceiling had fallen in such a way that it created a hidden alcove, invisible from the main entrance but spacious enough for my horse. More importantly, the area would keep the creature hidden from prying eyes.
“You’ll be safe here for now,” I assured my steed. Then I shifted slowly to dismount. The slight movement agitated my ribs and wrought another shock of grimacing pain. The intelligent beast seemed to sense my struggle and carefully knelt down. As I slid off its back with a grunt, the horse turned its head and gently nudged my side with its nose, its glowing red eyes filled with what appeared to be concern.
“I’ll be fine,” I assured, rubbing its midnight-dark forehead. “I’ll tend to my wounds after I find Evangeline. I won’t let these injuries stop me from claiming what is rightfully mine. Your loyalty will be rewarded, my friend.”
The horse snorted softly in acknowledgment before curling up on the chamber floor. Its muscular form relaxed as it settled in to rest. I still couldn’t get over how such a fearsome creature could show such genuine care for my wellbeing.
Satisfied that my mount was secure, I made my way to the iron trapdoor that led to the aurorium below. My body protested every movement, but I pushed through the pain.
Somewhere below, I hoped to find Evangeline—and answers.
The descent into the underground complex was agonizing. Each step down the stone steps sent fresh waves of pain through my side. I noticed the shadows seemed to part before me, seemingly acknowledging my darkened mood. The purple-flamed wall sconces danced in response to my presence as I passed.
The main sanctuary was eerily quiet. Only a handful of acolytes moved through the space, performing their early morning duties. Their dark robes whisked against the stone floor as the clergy members went about their tasks, maintaining braziers and preparing the aurorium for the day ahead. The massive black altar stood silent and imposing, its surface gleaming in the purple light.
An older half-orc emerged from a side chamber and approached me, his scarred green features and weathered face marking him as one of the more experienced members of the order. His massive frame was adorned in the traditional black and silver robes of a high-ranking acolyte.
“Brother Caelum,” he greeted with a slight bow. “We did not expect—” His eyes widened as he noticed me clutching my side. “By the Dread Lord, you’re injured!”
I waved off his concern. “Who are you? Where is High Acolyte Vesper?”
He bowed again. “My apologies. My name is Zavanar. I serve as High Acolyte Vesper’s second-in-command, overseeing the aurorium’s daily operations in his absence. The High Acolyte is unavailable at the moment.”
“I see. And when might he be available? I’m in a hurry, and I have important matters to discuss.”
Zavanar’s eyes lingered on my obvious injury. “The High Acolyte usually begins his duties in about an hour, but I can—”
I shook my head. “I can’t wait that long.”
“Brother, you need medical attention,” Zavanar insisted. “Allow us to tend to your wounds first—”
“The bard,” I growled, my patience wearing thin. “How is she?”
Zavanar regarded me with slight trepidation. “She... she recovers well. Better than expected, in fact. The corruption has largely faded from her spirit, though she still requires rest.”
“Take me to her.”
“But your injuries—”
“Now.“ My tone left no room for argument.
The half-orc studied me for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “Very well. Follow me.”
He led me through the familiar corridors, down to the lower levels where the healing chambers were located. The air grew cooler as we descended, and the shadows seemed to pulse with gentle energy.
“Her recovery has been remarkable,” Zavanar said as we walked. “When she was first brought here, the corruption that tainted her soul was... extensive. But something changed a few days ago. It was as if her spirit suddenly found new strength.”
I listened intently, though each step was becoming more difficult as sharp pains stung my side. “What changed?” I asked, trying to hide my grimace.
“We’re not entirely sure. The High Acolyte believes it may be her natural resilience awakening something within her that helps fight off the lingering corruption.” He glanced at me meaningfully. “However, I suspect there might be other factors at work.”
“What do you mean?”
“The shadows have changed since you were last here. They respond differently, almost protectively. It’s as if...” He paused, looking thoughtful. “As if your previous visit left a lasting imprint. Like a shield of sorts.”
The revelation made me pause despite my pain. Had my connection to her somehow marked her soul? Protected it? I smiled slightly to myself. Even in my absence, some part of me had remained with her, guarding what was mine.
“Two days ago,” Zavanar continued, “during one of our routine healing sessions, she awoke from her coma, quite suddenly, in fact. The shadows around her seemed to pulse with renewed vigor, and she simply... opened her eyes.”
I halted, ignoring another sharp protest from my ribs. “Wait. She’s awake? Why wasn’t I informed?”
Zavanar furrowed his brow. “We sent word to the Dreadspire Sanctum immediately. Did you not receive our message?”
I frowned bitterly as I realized what must have happened. Malachai... That bastard must have intercepted the communication somehow, keeping me ignorant of her recovery. “No... I guess the message got lost,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Oh.” Zavanar rubbed the back of his head. “Well, ah... since awakening, she’s remained isolated in her private quarters while she recovers.” A slight smile crossed his scarred features. “The sound of her music has been rather... inspiring... Even through these stone walls, it carries a vigorous quality that seems to affect everyone who hears it.”
“Her music?” I thought of Evangeline playing again. Only she could create beauty in dreaded isolation.
Zavanar nodded. “Oh, yes. She spends most of her time composing new songs. The melodies are unlike anything I’ve ever heard—haunting yet uplifting, dark yet somehow full of light. Some of the younger acolytes have taken to lingering in the corridors just to listen.”
“What about her condition?”
“She tires easily, and the corruption left some... scars. But she continues to grow stronger each day. In addition to books, writing materials, and fresh clothes, we’ve given her everything she’s asked for—special teas, particular foods, even specific types of candles she claims help her focus while composing.”
It was a relief to know the extent of care they’d shown her, even as part of me raged at not being here to oversee it myself. “Has she... asked about me?”
The half-orc’s features softened. “Every day. We... weren’t sure how to respond, however, given the lack of communication from the Sanctum.”
My chest tightened, and not just from the pain of my broken ribs. The thought of her asking for me, waiting for word that never came, stirred my rage.
We finally reached a door with various runes embedded in the wood. Zavanar traced the required symbols in the air, and the protective magic shimmered and then faded away.
“It’s still quite early, and she may be sleeping,” he warned. “The healing process still taxes her strength considerably.” He paused and regarded me warily. “Brother, please, at least let me address your—”
“Later,” I cut him off, my eyes fixed on the door. “Leave us.”
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Zavanar sighed but reluctantly complied, then turned back the way we’d come. “I’ll inform the High Acolyte of your arrival when he wakes.”
I barely heard him. Pushing open the door, I entered Evangeline’s chamber. The room was slightly different from how I remembered it. Soft purple crystals mounted in elaborate wall sconces provided gentle illumination, and the air carried the scent of lavender and other calming herbs. Several books lay scattered about, along with sheets of parchment covered in musical notation. Her lyre sat on the nightstand next to her bed.
And there she was.
Evangeline lay sleeping peacefully. Her skin had regained much of its natural golden hue, though she still looked fragile. She wore a simple white shift, and her chest rose and fell with steady breaths. The sight of her current condition stirred a twinge of relief within me. She overcame the fiend’s corruption like the strong fighter she was. And it was because of that strength—that resilience—that drew me to her like a ship to a siren’s call.
The shadows in the room seemed to acknowledge my presence, and they curled around my feet like affectionate cats. Dark tendrils reached out towards Evangeline as well, but gently and protectively, as if they too understood she was precious to me.
I moved closer to her bed, fighting the urge to touch her, to wake her. Her peaceful expression stirred conflicting emotions within me—the desire to protect warring with the uncontrollable need to have her in my arms. Even in sleep, she held a power over me that both thrilled and unsettled my darker nature.
As if sensing my presence, Evangeline’s breathing changed. Her eyelids fluttered, and then slowly opened. For a moment, she stared at me as if unsure whether she was still dreaming. Then her eyes widened with recognition.
“Lord Caelum?” she whispered, her voice carrying a mix of disbelief and joy.
Before I could respond, she launched herself from the bed with unexpected vigor, throwing herself into my arms. The sudden impact sent a lance of agony through my injured ribs, and I couldn’t suppress the sharp grunt of pain. But she didn’t seem to notice, as her lips found mine in a deep, passionate kiss that spoke of longing and relief.
Despite the pain, my arms instinctively wrapped around her, pulling her closer as I tenderly returned the kiss. I moaned in satisfaction at having her in my embrace again. She was mine, and no force in Aetheria would separate us again.
The shadows in the room seemed to dance around us, celebrating our reunion in their own enigmatic way.
When she finally pulled back, her emerald eyes were bright with unshed tears. “I knew you’d come back,” she said, her hands cupping my face.
Another wave of pain shot through my side, and this time I couldn’t hide my grimace. Evangeline’s expression immediately shifted to concern.
“You’re hurt,” she said. She started to pull away, but I tightened my embrace, refusing to let go despite the discomfort.
“It’s nothing,” I growled, though the stabbing pain in my ribs suggested otherwise.
“Don’t lie to me,” she chided, her hands moving to my chest. “What happened? Who did this to you?”
“Later. Right now, all that matters is that you’re awake, and you’re recovering.” My grip softened slightly.
“The acolytes said you never received word of my awakening,” she said, her head tilted with concern. “I waited, hoping...” She trailed off, clearly sensing there was more to the story.
“Treachery,” I spat, the word bitter on my tongue. “But that will be dealt with in time.” I guided her back to sit on the edge of the bed, partly to ease the strain on my ribs and partly to keep her close. “How are you feeling?”
Evangeline’s fingers intertwined with mine as she spoke. “Now that you’re here, I feel absolutely amazing.” She paused and chewed her bottom lip as she struggled to remember. “After that monster attacked, and I blacked out, I felt like I was lost in an endless nightmare. The fiend’s corruption felt like I was drowning in darkness, unable to find the surface.” She squeezed my hand. “But then something changed. I felt... protected. As if something was shielding me from the worst of it.”
“Brother Zavanar mentioned the shadows around you had changed.”
She nodded. “They feel different now. Almost... familiar. Like they recognize me as...” She hesitated.
“As mine,” I finished. Then I brought the top of her hand to my lips and kissed it.
She shivered, watching me intently. “Yes...”
“We will not be separated like this again. You belong to me, and I will not allow others to interfere with what is mine. This is not a mere promise, nor a solemn vow. It is law, and I will enforce it with whatever means necessary.”
She tilted her head curiously. “Law?”
“Yes, law,” I reiterated, my voice taking on a harder edge. “I’m done playing by others’ rules. From now on, I make my own laws, my own code, define my own order.” I gently caressed my fingers along her jaw. “And you, my beautiful songbird, are fundamental to that order.”
“What does all that mean?” she asked, her emerald eyes searching mine.
“It means I’m creating something new. Something powerful.” I chose my words carefully, revealing enough to intrigue but not enough to expose my true destiny. “I’m gathering those I trust, those who understand my vision. My circle will be small, but absolute in their loyalty.”
“Like a family?”
I almost smiled at her innocent interpretation. “More like a carefully crafted web of power, with each thread serving its purpose. But yes, in some ways, like a family.” My fingers grazed her chin, and I tilted it up, forcing her to look me in the eye. “You’ve proven your worth and your loyalty. You belong at my side.”
A small smile parted her lips. “And what would be my role in this... new order of yours, my lord?”
“You’ll be my voice,” I said, the plan forming even as I spoke it. “Your music has power—real power. I’ve seen how it affects people, how it can shape thoughts and emotions. Together, we’ll use that influence to build something greater.”
“You make it sound so simple,” she mused.
“Nothing worth having is simple. There will be challenges and obstacles to overcome. But I will not be denied what is mine.” Another spike of pain shot through my ribs, emphasizing my words. “Not by anyone.“
Evangeline noticed my grimace. “Please tell me what happened, my lord.”
“Betrayal comes in many forms,” I deflected her question. “What matters now is moving forward and gathering strength.” I fixed her with an intense stare. “Are you strong enough for what lies ahead? Will you stand with me, no matter the cost?”
She nodded curtly, a spark of determination burning in those emerald eyes. “As I once told you before, I would follow you into the darkest depths of Aetheria itself.”
“Then we need to leave. Now,” I said, rising slowly. “Pack only what you absolutely need. We can’t stay in Ebonheart.”
Evangeline blinked in surprise at the sudden urgency. “Leave? But... I’ve only just recovered. The acolytes said—”
“The acolytes don’t know what’s coming,” I cut her off. “We need to be far from here before certain parties discover me.”
She studied my face for a moment, then nodded. “My apartment... I have things there. Important things. My journals... maps... personal items...”
I wanted to refuse, to rush her out of the city immediately, but I understood the importance of her craft. Her music wasn’t just art—it was power, a weapon in its own right. “Very well. But pack light and pack quickly.”
“How long do we have?”
“Not long enough.”
As I moved towards the door, it suddenly swung open, revealing High Acolyte Vesper with Zavanar close behind. Vesper’s eyes widened at my presence, then narrowed as he took in my condition.
“Brother Caelum,” he said, his voice carrying both surprise and concern. “Zavanar informed me of your arrival and... your health.” He stepped into the room, his black and silver robes rustling against the stone floor. “You need immediate healing.”
“We’re leaving,” I growled, placing myself between him and Evangeline.
“You won’t get much farther with that injury,” Vesper insisted. “Those broken ribs could puncture something vital if not treated properly. You are lucky to have made it this far, to be honest.” He raised his hands, already beginning to weave healing magic. “This won’t take long.”
I hesitated, torn between the need to flee and the practical necessity of healing. Finally, I gave a firm nod. “Fine. Make it quick.”
“Sit.” He made a small head gesture to a nearby chair.
As I complied, Vesper’s hands glowed with familiar purple energy. The healing magic flowed into my chest, spread throughout my torso, and I felt the sharp pain slowly dull. Meanwhile, Evangeline disappeared behind a black privacy screen and changed clothes.
“Understand this, High Acolyte,” I said, fixing Vesper with a hard stare. “Do not speak of my business here to anyone. Not the city guard, not the other acolytes, and especially not anyone from the Dreadspire Sanctum.”
Vesper’s hands never wavered as he continued the healing. “The aurorium maintains its neutrality in all matters, as always.”
“I’m not interested in political niceties,” I snarled. “If I discover you’ve betrayed my presence to anyone, the consequences will be... severe.” The shadows in the room darkened at my words as emphasis.
“Is that a threat, brother?” Vesper asked mildly, though his eyes had hardened slightly.
“A promise.” I caught his gaze. “One you would do well to take heed.”
“Our position has always been clear. We serve Lord Valic and maintain the sacred rites. The politics of this city and the blackguard order are not our concern.” He glanced meaningfully at Evangeline as she emerged from behind the privacy screen fully dressed in flowing, wayfarer’s garb. “We’ve already taken considerable risk harboring the lady bard here. Her presence alone could have drawn unwanted attention from certain parties.”
“And yet you did it anyway,” I noted.
“Because it was necessary. The fiend’s presence threatened the stability and order of our sacred institutions.”
I felt the last of my broken ribs knit together under his healing touch. The pain faded to a dull ache, then disappeared entirely.
Vesper dismissed the healing spell, lowered his hands, and stepped back. “I’d advise against any strenuous activity for at least a day.”
I stood up slowly, testing my restored mobility. “Your advice is noted.” I turned to Evangeline. “Let’s go.”
She nodded, gathered a stack of loose papers and stuffed them into a small leather crossbody bag. Then she retrieved her lyre from the nightstand.
“High Acolyte,” I said, fixing Vesper with one last warning look. “Remember what I said. The consequences of betrayal would be... most unpleasant.”
Vesper met my gaze steadily. “The aurorium keeps its own counsel, brother. Whatever transpires between you and this city or your blackguard brethren is not our affair.” He paused, then added quietly, “May the Dread Lord guide your steps through the darkness.”
I studied him for a moment longer, then nodded curtly. Despite my threats, I sensed no deception in his words. The aurorium’s neutrality might actually work in my favor, at least for now.
“Come,” I said to Evangeline, taking her hand. “We’ve lingered here too long already.”
As we left the chamber, I could feel Vesper’s eyes following us. Whether he would actually keep his word and maintain his neutrality was still unknown, but I had bigger concerns at the moment. We needed to get to Evangeline’s apartment, gather what she needed, and flee Ebonheart for good.
We ascended the stone steps into the abandoned temple, the morning air feeling strangely stale after the cool, regulated atmosphere of the aurorium. My nightmare steed, sensing my presence, rose to its feet with a soft whinny, its glowing red eyes fixed on me.
The creature shifted its weight, its powerful muscles rippling beneath its midnight-dark hide. Its wound I had mended was looking a little better now.
The horse snorted, sending a cloud of black steam into the air, and its eyes narrowed slightly as it regarded Evangeline with wary intensity. She, in turn, seemed both awestruck and apprehensive, her eyes wide as she cautiously approached.
“What... what kind of horse is that?” she whispered, her voice barely audible above the soft clatter of the city awakening.
I placed a hand on her shoulder, guiding her closer. “He’s no ordinary horse, Evangeline. He is a nightmare, as loyal as he is dangerous.” I turned my attention to the steed. “Be still, friend. She is with me.”
The creature studied her for a moment longer, then relaxed, its intense gaze softening. Then it lowered its head and nudged Evangeline gently as if to acknowledge her presence.
She reached out tentatively, her fingers brushing against its velvety nose. “He’s... beautiful,” she murmured, her apprehension fading into a mixture of awe and fascination.
I smiled, a rare expression for me, but one that felt natural with her. “He knows a kindred spirit when he sees one.”
“What’s his name?” she asked, her fingers now stroking the horse’s dark mane.
I arched an eyebrow at that. “The blackguards of the Dreadspire Sanctum do not name their horses. The creatures are seen as tools, nothing more.” I paused, reconsidering the matter. “But things are different now. I am not bound by their rules anymore. Perhaps it’s time he had a name. You should choose one that suits him.”
Evangeline blinked in surprise. Then her lips curved into a soft smile. “Me? But what if he doesn’t like it?”
“Then he’ll make it known. But I have a feeling he won’t object to whatever you choose.” I mounted the steed, then extended my hand to her. “Come, my beautiful songbird. Let’s be off.”
She took my hand, her slender fingers fitting perfectly within my own. In one fluid motion, I hefted her up behind me. She settled comfortably on the horse’s back and wrapped her arms securely around my waist. A soothing warmth spread through me at the feel of her embrace and the weight of her body against my back. This close, I could feel the soft curves of her form and hear the gentle rise and fall of her breath.
The steed shifted slightly, adjusting to our combined weight, and then we headed back towards the city’s central district.
The ride was tense. Ebonheart had fully awakened, and the early morning crowds had swelled to a steady flow of people. The streets were now teeming with activity, and the morning sun cast long shadows from the buildings. The sudden appearance of a dark rider on a nightmare steed had once again sent murmurs through the crowds, and the people parted before us. Some quickly averted their gaze, pretending not to notice, while others whispered prayers to whatever gods they believed could protect them from our presence.
As we approached Evangeline’s apartment building, I noticed something was amiss. The once vibrant structure, adorned with colorful awnings and potted flowers, was now a scene of chaotic disarray.
Evangeline gasped behind me. “What... what’s going on?”
I pulled my steed to a halt, my eyes scanning the scene with a growing sense of unease. Instead of the usual welcoming appearance, the area around the front of the building was a haphazard mess of scattered debris. It looked as if the entire contents of someone’s apartment had been dumped out into the street.
“Gods... This is...” Evangeline’s voice trembled. “Those are... those are my things!”
A mob of people swarmed the area, their eyes glinting with desperate greed. They were picking through piles of clothes, books, jewelry, and other personal belongings, grabbing whatever they could get their hands on. I soon realized that all of these items were Evangeline’s possessions, scattered, trampled, and destroyed like garbage. A sickening feeling churned in my stomach. These shameless bastards were looting the remains of her life.