Meera didn't even have time to think about what Hilnoa had said before Narikas screamed, keeled over, and fell out of his throne. He trembled on the floor as the scream escaped from his throat.

"Just wait, son." Hilnoa began writing something in her book.

"Stop!" It was a raspy voice. If snakes could talk, Meera figured they would sound like this. "Don't you put him to sleep, bitch, or I will split his mind in two as he sleeps."

Hilnoa's hands trembled, and her book nearly fell out of her hands. Her expression was one of sheer terror.

Is that the armor talking?

"Begone and leave him alone," Hilnoa barked.

Narikas cried out again, but this didn't sound painful; it was more from exertion.

The raspy voice laughed, but Narikas stayed on all fours on the pedestal. "He's trying to fight back and will win for now. I came to issue an order because he wouldn't do so himself. That heart must come here to me. If I can get control of the heart, I won't need to do this to your warlord."

"Is this some scheme of yours to escape, vile demon," Hilnoa spat.

"It is. I will gain my freedom, and as a parting gift, I will release this mulling babe…" Narikas groaned in his own voice and not the armor's, but he lost this bout. "Don't fight so much, craven. Let me have my say in peace or else."

He tried to stand but couldn't. He made an annoyed face, but that was not all. Flecks of Narikas' hair turned white, and his left eye turned golden.

"As I was saying, I will release Narikas and your kingdom alone forever." He smiled. "Think on it."

Then Narikas huffed on all fours as he returned, but the gray hair and golden eye remained. When he looked up, Hilnoa gasped with a hand to her mouth. She stepped back and had to get a hold of Narikas' throne to steady herself. Even Meera was taken aback.

The skin on the left side of his face had turned an ashen color and scaly. His hand was the same, meaning the entire left half of his body had turned scaly.

Narikas stood with difficulty. "I'm sorry. Its attack was so sudden and intense, I couldn't hold it back." His eyes flicked from his aunt to Meera. "What?"

"Your face…" Meera said. She pulled off a chakram and held it out to him.

He reached for it but cried out and shirked his hands back quickly. He breathed deep breaths and looked at his visage in her chakrams. The man gave no reaction at all save one of sadness.

"So, it's begun." Narikas sat on his throne with a heavy sigh.

"We must go to Rokibor at once and plead to him about the severity of the situation."

"Later, Aunt Hilnoa. For now, we have work to do. This Heart of Doromar…what is it?"

"I only know of the legends from when I was a child," Hilnoa said. "I'll have to do more research to corroborate them, but if the armor wants it, then I think it's safe to say that the stories are true. You know of The Eclipse. How the Cosmarians led by Rothedon did not wish to be shepherds no longer and sought to rule all the worlds."

Meera knew that but didn't know it was called The Eclipse.

Hilnoa went on. "As the legend goes. Doromar was one of Rothedon's greatest generals. Some versions of the story even call them brothers. No one lives who knows which is which, but that is not important—the one thing that all the stories agree upon is that Doromar was a mighty necromancer. He raised armies of the dead to fight the gods. He didn't die. No matter how many times he was cut or even burned. Even when they cut off his head."

"That's just absurd," Meera blurted out, earning the Scribe's glare. "Sorry, please go on."

"Did they kill him by ripping out his heart?" Narikas asked, seemingly too calm for a person who was turning into a demon.

"In a way," Hilnoa replied. "You see, Doromar had done some dark magic that rendered him, in essence, immortal. When the goddess Numheia shot her arrow at his chest, it ripped his heart out of his body and impaled it in a tree. Numheia hacked Doromar's body to pieces and burnt it to ash. My grandmother used to tell me that her grandmother told her and hers before her, and so on, that Doromar died somewhere in what later became our kingdom. And his heart was still impaled in the tree, waiting and biding its time to return and wreak its vengeance. For the heart still contained the spirit of Doromar."

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Meera gulped. "How long ago was this? Before or after the fall of Aetheron."

"The Eclipse is supposed to have happened directly after Aetheron's fall. When the gods were at their weakest, the cowardly Cosmarian king seized the opportunity to strike at the gods."

"And Midiea defeated him, right?" Meera said, remembering what Oril from Ebonton had told her about this.

"Wrong," Hilnoa said. "Lady Midiea joined with her mirrors once she flung Aetheron to the stars. It was Mother Mirithia who defeated and confined the Cosmarians to the cursed forest."

"But I heard Midiea did that," Meera countered.

"And that is a classic example of how people have twisted and bastardized tales over thousands of years. Many people have heard that Midiea defeated Rothedon, but no, go to any student of history or a priest, and they will tell you it was the Mother of All."

"Meera, why is this important?" Narikas asked.

Meera shrugged. "It's not. But I did see the Heart in a hole of this massive tree, so your story about Doromar's fall might not be totally off. The queen was nailed to the tree below the heart, and an undead with a staff kept telling her to give in." She smirked at Narikas. "See, my lead did pan out."

Narikas snorted and nodded lightly. "That it did."

“You mean the Wardens of Numheia?” Hilnoa asked.

"Yes, they were in town trying to find a monster that was collecting body parts for favors," Meera said. "They're the ones who trained me up, and I got so many levels in a day."

"Justice unleashed on Living Death…" Hilnoa had a faraway look in her eyes. She looked to the prince. "The prophecy…"

Narikas frowned. "You don't…"

"The prophecy those two hunters brought you? The ones who left you both near death. Are you talking about the same one?" Meera asked.

Hilnoa ignored her and flipped a few pages in her book. She looked at her nephew with fearful eyes. "You never let them recite the full prophecy, but I took their scroll and jotted it down."

War and Death will surround you all,

To rain and fire will the cage of tears fall.

An oath to a parent shall a son break,

His throne the king shall forsake.

The enslaved will end the war with a final breath,

And Justice unleashed on living Death.

Meera tried to make sense of it, but the only thing she could know for sure was the living Death part. It could only refer to a necromancer. And the War and Death was also evident, with war looming on the horizon for Azeria.

"Rokibor will sooner be skinned alive than give up his throne," Hilnoa said.

"This is a ploy by King Draros to keep us distracted," Narikas said. "Empty words is all they are. We should stay focused on our task at hand—rescuing the queen from this heart."

Meera coughed. "I wish you all luck with that. If you will tell me where my brother is, I will be on my way."

Hilnoa's nostrils flared. "You wish to run now."

"I was told to find the queen, and I did. Now, send some soldiers, and by some, I mean a lot, as this heart has a veritable undead army averaging around level 180 – 200. I'll even do so much as to lead them to Dirik. He's a Shade."

They both frowned at that. Meera realized she never got to tell them everything that happened since the night after the attack on them. So, she told them now. Once she was done, they both had frowns still.

"Dirik is not his real name," Narikas said. "There are a total of eighty-seven Shades, and I know the name of every single one, living or dead. But I don't have a Shade called Dirik. Whoever he is, he's lying to you."

Meera was stumped. Now she wanted to know his real name and who he was. This was getting more complicated by the minute, and if her brother's life weren't at stake, she would've gotten to the bottom of this.

She shook her head. "Again, not my problem. I found your queen. Keep your end of the deal and tell me about my brother."

"Neel was here and stayed with me under false pretenses," Narikas said coolly. The vulnerable man she had seen was gone, and the Shadowsteel Warlord was back. "His true intention was to steal the Miravane. It's an ancient artifact that was created to find the Reflectora. No matter which world it is in, no matter the magic that hides it, the Miravane will point you toward the Reflectora. But there is a problem with it."

Meera frowned. "Problem?"

"What are you going to do about the king's assassins?" Narikas asked.

"Huh?"

"Did you forget the king expects you to find Prince Delkoris before the invasion from King Draros?"

Meera smirked. "I'll take my chances."

"I'll be honest, Meera, I'm not going to last much longer one way or another," the Shadowsteel Warlord said. "With me gone, you lose your one friend in the kingdom. No one to stop the assassins, and they are very thorough. Once my brother sets his eyes on something, he usually gets it. How will you survive waves upon waves of assassins? How will you survive them all?"

Meera wasn't so sure anymore.

"What's to say we don't turn on you too?" Hilnoa crossed her arms. "After all, you know Narikas' secret…the secret of the Shadowsteel Warlord. It is closely guarded, and only the topmost royals are supposed to know."

"So, you're blackmailing me now," Meera said, controlling her voice. "I thought you were a better man than that. Why?"

"Because you did something that even half of my Shades could not do, and you did it in half the time," Narikas said. "Call it luck, fate, or your innate talent. But you did good, very good. I would feel better if you led my Shades in bringing back the queen safe and sound. Once you do that, I'll tell you about the problem with the Miravane and where your brother went."

Meera's nostrils flared. "You're changing the terms of our deal now."

"I'm a desperate man at the end of his days. It's true. Even this prophecy says so if it is true."

Meera frowned at first, but when she thought about it, he was right—the enslaved will end the war with a final breath. He was the enslaved. Enslaved to the armor that was taking him over.

"Fine, and you better not die before keeping your end of the bargain."

"I won't." He jerked, crying out in pain. All the veins popped out on his neck. Then, he finally settled down on his throne. A moment passed, and he looked up, gave Meera a wicked grin, and spoke in the armor's raspy voice. "And don't forget the Heart."