Kira stood in front of them after Inquisitor Victor left. “Go back to the High Tower.” She ordered with a sharp tone. “The Inquisitor will return when he can, until then stay in your dorms. Don’t get in anyone’s way in the Tower. There are enough problems as is, and the last thing we need is a bunch of unruly children.” She glared at each and every one of them before pointing towards the Tower. “Do I need to say more?”
Maya let out an audible sigh. “Come on,” she said in a low voice as Kira’s gaze followed them. They followed Maya towards the grand entrance to the High Tower. The young noble occasionally shot glances over her shoulder. Only after they had silently walked half the way back to the grand entrance did she speak.
“I hate her.” She bluntly stated, without a sliver of emotion in her voice. She pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear nonchalantly. “She thinks she’s better than everyone.”
Damien grimaced. “She is better than any of us.” He said with a bitter tone. “She serves with an Inquisitor – and has his trust. She is stronger and more knowledgeable.”
Leon scoffed. “She’s a psychopath.”
Ash’s eyebrows shot up. How come did Leon – a commoner – have an issue with Kira?
“I have no respect for her.” Maya stated, though with a lowered voice as they approached the grand entrance. “I have no respect for someone who would let someone die when there was a way to stop it.”
Leon nodded vigorously. “I wouldn’t trust her with anything.” He muttered, shooting a glance over his shoulder. “Her priorities are all messed up.”
“What are you talking about?” Fionna piped up, with equal confusion as Ash and Damien. “Have you met her before?”
“Never mind.” Leon looked away, suddenly falling silent. Ash pursed his lips, he wanted to ask Leon what that was all about, but the young man didn’t seem to want to have that conversation.
“Whatever, it doesn’t matter.” Maya shook her head. “As long as she does her job properly and helps dad, it’s all fine.” They stepped aside to let a group of soldiers pass by, then walked through the gates and headed towards the round stairwell.
The stairwell lead from the entrance floor all the way to the top of the High Tower. Ash and the others were only allowed to the second floor, to where their dorms and classes, and the grand library was located. While no one enforced this rule, they had all been informed that disobedience and attempting to explore the higher floors would be severely punished.
Considering Professor Maple’s expression when he explained them this rule, Ash had no intention of attempting such a thing.
As they climbed up the steps leading up, a large group of people descended. Ash simply stepped aside as he listened to Maya and Damien’s conversation, but a sudden gasp quickly drew his attention to Fionna and the others.
“Kneel!” Damien hissed behind him, pushing him down on his knees. Leon had also immediately knelt, and Fionna and Maya curtsied as they tried to hide their shock.
Two young men and a woman were descending the stairs, surrounded by a large group of guards, carrying a crest of a flaming phoenix on their cloaks. Their gazes passed over Ash and the others like they didn’t exist, but the same couldn’t be said for the three people they were protecting.
Ash barely kept his expression neutral as he recognised two of them immediately. Princess Aoife was wearing an elegant dress, black as the night, with rare silver embroidery on her chest. Her long hair freely flowed to her back. Her gaze lingered on them, and Ash noticed her lips form a pale thin line before she shot a glance at Daith.
Prince Daith wore a dark blue uniform, decorated with similar silver embroidery. A long, pale grey cloak followed behind him, sweeping the floors as he walked. He intentionally avoided looking at Ash and the others, instead sharing glances with Aoife.
The third and oldest of them was also the tallest. He shared a similar facial structure as Aoife, though he was a head taller than Prince Daith. His wavy raven black hair almost covered up the simple, yet elegant silver crown resting on his head, and his golden eyes glowed with an uncanny intellect.
He slowed his steps as his gaze first lingered on Damien. He raised one eyebrow, then turned his gaze to Maya. After a few seconds, he turned his gaze, not even bothering to glance at Fionna and Leon, and looked at Ash.
Their gazes met, though Ash quickly looked down, and bowed his head. His heart was racing – this was the crown prince, Cedric Par-Ilathar. The second most powerful person in the empire’s political landscape. Even Ash had heard of his name, despite coming from a remote village like Serna.
“Let us hurry, brother.” Princess Aoife’s voice reached his ears. “We must not be late.”
“Indeed.” The crown prince replied. His voice sent a cold shiver down Ash’s spine. It resonated with power and was cold as ice.
Only when they passed did Damien and the others stand back up.
“He looked at you.” Damien immediately told Maya with a harsh voice. Maya nodded. “He knows father, he must have recognised me. You too,” She let out an exhausted sigh. “He knows Lord Galor as well.”
Damien clenched his fists. “He does know my grandfather. And I did meet him once, before I came here.” He narrowed his eyes.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
“Isn’t that good?” Leon asked after a moment’s hesitation. “No!” Both Maya and Damien exclaimed, almost forgetting to keep their voices low. “Nobody wants to have the attention of the crown prince.”
**
A ball of flame hit the wall where a shadowy figure had been standing a few moments ago. Victor clicked his tongue in annoyance and rushed after her. Atop the roof of the building he was standing next to, he could hear Kira’s faint footsteps – she was acting as his eyes, letting him know of where the cultists were escaping to.
“To your left.” Her voice reached his ears. He still didn’t know how she did that without showing even a hint of her mana, but he had gotten used to it by now. It didn’t startle him as it did before. Following her guidance, he took a sharp turn left.
These narrow streets remained from the first few centuries of Bhaile-Morn’s construction. Narrow, dark and pressed in between these old houses that looked ready to collapse with the slightest breeze. A single misfired spell could bring this whole neighbourhood down. A cruel, yet smart place to hide, Victor conceded.
In any normal battle, he would easily overpower the Apostle, but as long as she hid in these shadows and escaped from him in this old, dilapidated place, Victor couldn’t cast any spell even remotely powerful. Not without taking too many innocent lives in the process.
He had two options – corner her somewhere and overpower her there while Kira made sure their battle wouldn’t bring any buildings down, or directly attack her inner world, turning this into a battle of wills and raw power.
He clenched his fists as he dashed through the narrow streets. He wouldn’t dare touch her inner world, not after Ash pressed the pendant against her face. He was contaminated by Soul Magic because he touched it with his hand, but she had the pendant in her possession for days now, and it had touched her face before – nothing could convince Victor that she wasn’t already deeply affected by Soul Magic. Her soul could be completely lost and taken over by it already.
“Left.” Kira’s voice reached his ears. He followed her instructions and was rewarded with a glimpse of a black cloak turning right again.
He let his mana flow into the spell he prepared earlier. The soothing power of his mana enveloped his legs, empowering them. The strain on his muscles vanished as he dashed forward with an inhuman speed.
His legs carried him along the narrow street, only slowing down to make the turn right. And there she was – the Apostle, the known leader of the Dusk Worshippers. A fanatical follower of some long dead man who wasn’t even human.
He extended his hand, his crimson mana swirling around his arm. Within a single breath, his spell was complete, and he released it. Five arrows of fire shot from his hand, one from each fingertip, chasing the cloaked Apostle as she ran.
Dark blue mana coated her cloak moments before his spell reached her. The arrows hit her in the back, sending ripples throughout the mana protecting her. The flames fizzled and died, but the force of impact was all Victor really needed. The Apostle staggered, nearly losing her balance. A pale hand grabbed onto the muddy, dirty wall next to her as she stopped in her tracks and turned around to face him.
An elegant, yet asymmetrical mask covered her face. The left side of her face, her nose, and her upper lip was completely covered, while leaving her chin and right cheek visible. Strands of grey hair peeked from under the hood of her cloak.
“In the name of the Emperor, may he be blessed, I order you to surrender!” Victor shouted, knowing full well she would never do so.
“You emperor is dead to me!” The Apostle hissed. “My Lord will see to that, Inquisitor.” She clenched her fists, her mana concentrating in her palms and around her wrists. Victor narrowed his eyes in an attempt to figure out what spell she was preparing to cast.
“You have no Lord,” He replied calmly. With the corner of his eye, he saw Kira move on the rooftops, positioning herself behind the Apostle. He just needed to buy a few more moments before the fight began. “All you have is a delusion, no doubt caused by your fascination with that pendant.” He pointed at the pendant hanging on her chest, barely visible under her cloak. It radiated Soul Magic, the dark mana around it constantly writhed, though it was weaker than before. So weak that even Victor had some trouble seeing it.
He couldn’t help but wonder – where had its previous power gone? When the Apostle attacked Maya and the others, the Soul Magic that filled the pendant was incredibly dangerous, as it was filled with an immense amount of dark mana. Now, he only saw a fraction of that power. Had she used it? Absorbed it fully? The thought alone was terrifiying.
He noticed Kira leap down from the roof, landing silently on the muddy ground. She unsheathed her glass dagger, then nodded at Victor.
“I give you one last chance, surrender!” He ordered the Apostle, who laughed in response.
“Never!” She shrieked, her mana reared behind her, then hit the ground, breaking the stone tiles paving the street, and shaking the very earth. The buildings around them creaked dangerously, threatening to collapse.
Victor clenched his fist. He reached out with his mana, weaving it into a protective spell – a barrier to keep him safe. As water burst from the ground, originating from the Apostle’s destructive spell, a crimson sphere enveloped him. Waves of raging water crashed against the barrier, threatening to push him back, but he kept feeding more mana to it.
In a straight up fight, she had no chance. She had chosen a dignified way out, but Victor didn’t intend to give her that dignity – she didn’t deserve it. As a traitor and a Soul Mage, she deserved nothing.
Kira dashed towards her as Victor raised his hand. His mana rose along his arm, then leapt up into the sky before taking form. Flames roared and descended on the Apostle, they hit the roof tiles above, melting them. As the flames lunged at her from above, the Apostle created a protective barrier of her own, perhaps a split second before she was turned into ashes. The waves crashing against Victor’s barrier faded as she needed all her mana to maintain her own barrier.
Kira ran into the flames without hesitation, her silent steps carrying her closer to the Apostle.
“I will not die here!” The Apostle shouted. “My destiny,” Her voice echoed in the narrow streets, drowning out the roaring of the flames. “It is my fate to awaken him!”
Kira was an arm’s length away when their opponent shouted. Her eyes widened as she forced herself to stop. Her boots slid on the muddy ground, wet with the Apostle’s spell, and covered in ash because of Victor’s. She barely kept her balance as she gasped.
The Apostle clenched her fists around the pendant. “I am under his protection!” her fanatical scream was distorted, just like back in the Auction Hall. “He will aid me until his return!” a wave of black mana burst out of her chest before neither of them could react.
The wave hit his barrier like a landslide. It pushed against his power, feeling for any weakness while it sent him flying. Tendrils of it followed him, seeking his skin – his flesh and blood, yet another mind to corrupt.
On the other end of the street, Kira had also been sent flying. She was back up on her feet already but didn’t dare approach the Apostle.
“You are losing yourself to a power you can’t handle!” Victor shouted as he pushed himself back on his feet. “You will awaken no one!”
“I am the Apostle of Dusk!” The woman shouted, her voice distorted and odd. “You will see it too, Inquisitor! I promise, you will see him rise!” A second wave of dark mana burst out. By the time they could see beyond the black mist-like explosion, the Apostle had disappeared already.
Victor clenched his fists. He had failed a second time.