Isilyn

I stayed frozen for a moment, my dagger still in my hand, the taste of blood in my mouth from the self-inflicted wound I barely noticed. The fucking bastard had left me with nothing but his words and the hollow echo of his voice in the darkness.

"You're lost," he'd said. "You're only pretending you're not."

And God, I wanted to scream. I wanted to give in to the fury, to lose myself in the violence of it all. But something about his words stuck with me, like a blade lodged in my chest that I couldn't pull free.

I clenched my jaw, the anger bubbling up again, hotter than before. I wasn't fucking lost. I was trying to find myself—wasn't I? If I wasn't lost, then what the hell was I doing out here, running from the one thing I was supposed to face?

I exhaled sharply, frustration threatening to tear me apart. The damn moonlight wasn't helping anymore. My magic, my tether to the stars, felt distant. It was there, but it wasn't mine. It didn't fucking care about me, not when I needed it most.

I shoved the dagger back into its sheath, not because I was done fighting but because I was tired of fighting against the emptiness that kept swallowing me whole.

I wasn't just running from my father, or the damn council, or the title that never felt like mine. I was running from the fucking truth—truth that this life wasn't for me. That I was built to be a damn puppet, strung up by strings I couldn't even see.

My hands trembled, and it wasn't from the cold.

I took a step forward, into the shadows, deeper into the fucking wilderness that had no answers, only more questions. And the more I walked, the more I felt like I was sinking. Deeper. Deeper into the lie that maybe, just maybe, I could find a place that was mine.

But then I thought about it.

What was I even trying to prove? Was I just going to run forever? Fucking hell, I hated that bastard's voice still haunting me. You're pretending you're not lost.

The forest felt alive now, its branches whispering secrets that I couldn't understand. But I understood one thing: I was sick of being told who I was supposed to be. By my father, by the damn council, by whoever the fuck that man was.

I wanted to rip it all down. Burn everything that had ever held me back.

But there was no fire left in me.

I found a clearing, moonlight spilling down like a broken promise. I stopped, looking up at the sky, wishing for the strength to scream. But my voice wouldn't come.

Instead, I took a knee, my hands pressing into the dirt, grounding myself. Fucking pathetic, I thought again. What was I waiting for? Some divine revelation? Some answer from the stars themselves?

"Fuck this," I whispered, my voice hoarse. And with that, I slammed my fist into the ground. The force of it rattled through me, but it wasn't enough. Nothing was enough.

A movement in the trees caught my eye, a shift in the shadows that made my heart skip. Someone else. Someone fucking else. I pulled my dagger free once more, my pulse quickening. Whoever the hell it was, I wasn't taking any chances.

But when the figure stepped into the light, I froze.

It was him. The man from before.

"You again," I spat, my voice raw. "You think you can just show up and—"

"You're still running," he cut me off, his tone colder than the wind that cut through the clearing. "I told you. You're not free."

My hand tightened around the hilt of my dagger. "Shut the fuck up," I snapped. "I'm done with this bullshit. You don't get to dictate who I am."

The smirk that curled on his lips made my blood boil. "You're not done, Princess. You'll never be done, because you can't outrun yourself."

"Fuck you!" I lunged forward, but the man was faster. In a blink, he was behind me, his presence all-encompassing, like the weight of the world pressing down on me.

"You think running away will save you?" he asked, his voice a low growl. "You're only running into your own damn darkness."

I whirled, fury blinding me. "Stop talking!" I screamed.

But the more I screamed, the more I felt like I was losing myself. Like I was nothing but an echo in a fucking nightmare I couldn't wake from.

The man watched me, his gaze cutting through me like a blade. "You can fight all you want, but it's never going to change the truth."

My chest heaved with the effort to breathe, my vision swimming.

I was drowning.

"Stop," I gasped. "Stop saying that. I'm not lost. I'm not—"

But I didn't know what I was anymore. Who the fuck was I, if I wasn't that damn princess, that heir to a throne I never wanted?

"Make it stop," I whispered, the words slipping from my lips like I was begging for mercy. I didn't want to hear the truth anymore. I didn't want to face it.

"You're still running," the man repeated, his voice dripping with a cruel kind of certainty.

And just like that, my rage boiled over.

I fucking lunged at him, my dagger raised, the blade flashing in the moonlight. This time, I wasn't hesitating. I wasn't going to be the little girl in the dark anymore. I was done. Done with running. Done with hiding.

But once again, he disappeared into the shadows before I could strike.

I was left standing in the clearing, panting, my hands shaking.

And the forest? It seemed darker now. More suffocating.

I wasn't done. But I was getting fucking close.

I stood there, trying to gather myself, when I noticed it—the faint glow of lights through the trees in the distance, something that hadn't been there before. My heart skipped a beat. In that direction lay the unknown—a city, a place I had heard whispers of but never seen with my own eyes. Nethraven.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

I hadn't meant to come this way. I wasn't even sure how far I'd walked, but there it was, looming on the horizon, its tall towers barely visible in the night. A place where I could lose myself, but also the place where my past would catch up to me.

Nethraven.

I turned toward the city, feeling the pull like a magnet. It wasn't escape I was after. No, it was something else, something I couldn't even define. But I couldn't stop moving forward now.

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Zarek

The room felt smaller as I stared at the map. My hand still hovered over the bloodstains, as if I could somehow wash them away just by touching them. But I knew better. There was no cleansing this. Not anymore.

I didn't sleep that night. I couldn't. The images, the decisions, and the goddamn weight of what we were about to do—everything kept crashing into me like a goddamn avalanche. By morning, I was running on fumes, but I couldn't stop. I couldn't let them see me break. Not now. Not when I was the one they looked to.

I stood at the head of the table as the commanders gathered around. Korrin's eyes burned with expectation, still waiting for me to pull the trigger on this war, to push us all into the fire. But I wasn't fucking ready. I wasn't sure I ever would be.

"Let's get this over with," I muttered, voice hoarse. It wasn't a rallying cry. It wasn't some strategic speech that would get them fired up. It was the sound of a man who'd lost the fight before it even began.

The tension was thick, like the kind of pressure that makes a man snap. Korrin shifted, his impatience gnawing at the edges of the silence. "We've got a window," he said, his voice clipped. "You said we strike at dawn. Time's fucking ticking, Zarek."

I looked at him, and for the first time, I felt the raw edge of what we'd become. We weren't fighters anymore. We were fucking machines, programmed to destroy without knowing why. And Korrin, for all his loyalty, was just another cog in that machine.

"Yeah, I heard you," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. "But this isn't a fucking game, Korrin. This isn't some clean mission where we march in, take control, and walk out. This is blood. This is fucking hell on earth."

"You think I don't know that?" His eyes narrowed, his fists clenched. "We're already in hell, Zarek. You don't need to be scared to pull the goddamn trigger."

"Scared?" I let out a sharp laugh. "I'm not scared. I'm fucking tired of being used. And so are you." The words came out before I could stop them. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation. Maybe it was the weight of everything I'd been carrying for too long. But right then, I didn't give a shit.The room went still, the air suddenly thick with something I couldn't quite place. Maybe it was the truth hanging between us. Maybe it was the fact that Korrin was starting to see that I wasn't the same guy who'd built this army.

"You don't get it," I added, my voice lower, rougher now. "You think you're fighting for some greater cause, some bigger picture. But this? This is just another power grab. Another fucking round of the same game that's been played since the first sword was drawn."

Korrin's jaw clenched, his eyes flickering with that same rage he always wore like armor. "Then what the fuck are we supposed to do, huh?" he spat, taking a step closer. "Sit back and let them wipe us out? Let them keep the fucking cities and all the people who betrayed us in power?"

"Shut up," I growled. "We're not the fucking victims here. We've made our choices, just like they did. And now we're stuck, repeating the same fucking mistakes."

I felt it then—the final fracture, the breaking point. Korrin wasn't the one I needed to convince. He was too far gone, too fucking invested in the lie. But me? I wasn't so sure anymore.I turned away from him, pacing to the far side of the room, running a hand through my hair. "We're not fighting for anyone," I muttered, more to myself than to him. "We're fighting for our own fucking pride. For revenge. For control."

Behind me, Korrin let out a harsh breath. "You're losing us, Zarek."

"Am I?" I turned to face him, eyes burning. "Or am I just waking the fuck up?"

The silence that followed was deafening, thick with the unspoken weight of what I was saying. Korrin's face twisted with anger, but underneath that, there was something else. Something that made him question everything we'd been doing, too. Maybe he couldn't admit it yet, but I could see it.

"Dawn's coming," I said quietly, my voice harder than before. "We strike then. But understand this—this isn't the beginning of something great. It's the end of everything we were."I walked out of the room without looking back, the sounds of my boots echoing against the cold stone floor. I didn't need to hear the rest of their arguments. They'd follow because they had no choice.

The ride to the outskirts of the city was long and heavy. The weight of the decision hung on my shoulders like a fucking anchor, but I couldn't stop now. We were too close, too goddamn close. The city loomed in the distance—our target. The place where everything would either fall apart or finally make sense.

I sat in the back of the carriage, staring out at the horizon, my thoughts in turmoil. There were whispers among the men, but I couldn't bring myself to give a shit. I wasn't the same man who had gathered them, who had led them to this point. This wasn't about a better world anymore. It was just survival. A fucking struggle to stay on top.

As we neared the city gates, I could feel the pulse of something else. Something shifting. The air felt different—charged, like the calm before a storm. In the distance, there were figures moving, cloaked in shadows, making their way toward the same goal.

I wasn't the only one walking a fine line between madness and purpose.

We were almost there.

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Dravena

The moment I touched the pedestal, everything fell silent. The hum of power in the room amplified, vibrating through the floor, up my spine, and into my very core. The artifact beneath my fingers thrummed like a living thing, its pulse matching the beat of my heart. There was no turning back now.

I had been searching for this moment for so long, and now that I was standing at the edge of it, I could feel the weight of it pressing down on me. This wasn't just about the artifact—it was about understanding the chaos inside me, the power that had been part of my existence since the storm.

But the whispers still lingered in my mind. The voice that had warned me, that had tried to turn me away from this path, echoed like a distant memory. "Chaos will consume you."

It wasn't just a warning—it was the truth. I had seen it firsthand, in the ruins of my village, in the lives I had destroyed when I lost control. But I had come here for answers. I had come here to master this power, not to be afraid of it.

I gripped the pedestal harder, the jagged edges of the crystal seeping through my skin like a surge of electricity. The chaos magic swirled within me, alive and hungry. But I was different now. I wasn't that girl anymore, not the one who had unleashed that storm of destruction and chaos.

I had control.

At least, I had to.

The air in the temple felt heavier now, the weight of ancient power pressing down on me. I could feel the walls around me, alive with energy. There was a pull—no, a demand—coming from the artifact. It wanted me to embrace it, to let the storm break free and tear everything apart.

For a moment, I felt the temptation, the urge to give in. Let it go. Let it all burn. But I knew better now. I wasn't going to make the same mistake again.

The chaos magic inside me swirled, a fiery, untamed beast. But I clenched my jaw and held it back. I wasn't here to lose control. I was here to understand it, to take back the reins of my own power.

The whispers died down, leaving a deafening silence in their wake. I could feel the weight of the artifact's power, its pull stronger now that I had connected with it. The air crackled, but I wasn't afraid. Not anymore.

"Do you understand now?"

The voice came from within, deep and resonant, but this time, there was no malice in it—only the question. I closed my eyes, focusing on the pulse of the magic within me, the storm that had once threatened to tear me apart now contained, tamed.

I was no longer that scared girl. I wasn't afraid of what I had become.

I opened my eyes and stared at the jagged crystal. The chaos was still there, still alive, but now I held it in my grasp.

"I understand," I whispered, the words more to myself than anything else. "I control this now."

The temple around me seemed to breathe, the ancient stones shifting as if acknowledging my declaration. I could feel the power around me ebbing, settling into a quiet hum. The artifact no longer felt like a threat—it felt like a tool, a key to the next step in my journey.

Nethraven. The city I had crossed on my travels, the one I was heading to now, was waiting for me.

The chaos had led me here. And now, it was time to face whatever awaited me there. Not with fear, but with control.

With purpose.

I turned from the pedestal, my footsteps sure as I made my way toward the exit. The storm inside me simmered, but it no longer controlled me. I was ready for what came next.