The first light of dawn painted the room a soft gold, illuminating the rise and fall of Eliza’s breath. Linus lay still for a moment, listening to the quiet rhythm and feeling her warmth beside him. It had been a reprieve—brief and fleeting—but already, the weight of the day ahead settled over him like an iron shroud.
Carefully, he pulled away, slipping from the sheets without disturbing her. His fingers lingered at the edge of the bed as if debating whether to look back. He didn’t. The moment was over, and his mind had already moved on. By nightfall, none of this would matter.
Today, he would face the Sanctuary of the Eternal Flame. The Blood Moon approached, bringing with it the fleeting opportunity to unlock a power that could shift the balance in his favor. If the Phoenix’s Heart reacted as the prophecy foretold, he would seize the moment. If not, he would wait patiently, the same discipline that had served him well thus far guiding his next steps.
Leaving Eliza’s chambers, Linus returned to his manor, his thoughts racing ahead.
The streets of Thornfield churned with unease, the morning air thick with murmurs. Merchants exchanged glances before haggling, their usual cheer subdued. At the bakery, a woman clutched her basket tighter as a cloaked figure hurried past. Near the town square, two guards stood in hushed conversation, their hands drifting unconsciously to their hilts.
"Scarface’s wife swears it was the crimson's family," one whispered.
"Then we’re in trouble," the other muttered, glaring at the growing crowd.
Linus walked past them unnoticed, the tendrils of fear winding through the town exactly as he had expected.
In his study, Marcus stood waiting, his expression tense. The moment Linus entered, his hands clenched into fists.
A sharp, unseen force rippled through the air, tightening its grip.
Marcus froze, his body going rigid as an almost imperceptible shimmer flickered around his throat. A shadow-like collar tightened, veins darkening along his neck as the pain wracked his body. He gasped, eyes widening, hands instinctively rising to claw at his own skin—only to find nothing there.
He withered, knees nearly buckling as he choked out a ragged breath.
Linus spoke in a tone that was measured. “Princess Mara knows about the Ratrians.” He leaned forward, his piercing gaze holding Marcus in place. “I need to know how.”
The collar constricted further, pressing like phantom iron against Marcus’s windpipe. He let out a strangled grunt, his body trembling. Sweat slicked his brow, his breaths reduced to short, labored gasps. Linus watched impassively, the weight of the magic pressing down like an unseen hand.
Then, abruptly, he released it.
Marcus collapsed forward, hands bracing against the desk as he coughed violently. Air rushed back into his lungs, his chest heaving as he fought to regain composure. Linus leaned back, his expression unreadable.
Marcus sucked in a sharp breath, his throat raw from the phantom grip of Linus’s magic. His hand trembled as he wiped away the sweat that clung to his brow. He swallowed, wincing as if the pressure still lingered around his windpipe.
"I’ll… I’ll find out what happened," he rasped, voice hoarse, every word pushed through the lingering pain.
Linus studied him in silence, watching the way his shoulders squared despite the tremor still running through them. A hint of amusement flickered behind his cold gaze—Marcus, even when broken, would not cower.
Marcus straightened, forcing himself to move past the pain, and took a steadying breath. "I have some news," he said, forcing the words out as if nothing had happened.
Linus gestured for him to continue.
Marcus didn’t hesitate. "Master," he began, his tone serious despite the slight tremor in his voice, "the city guard is in disarray. Scarface is dead, and both the guards and Princess Mara are doubting whether Sorenputhra had any involvement in Scarface’s death."
Linus raised an eyebrow, prompting Marcus to continue.
"The guild master’s wife confirmed that the Phoenix’s Heart is missing," Marcus said. "Apparently, it was a family heirloom, though no one knows exactly when or how his family acquired it. The guards are scouring the city, trying to piece the events together."
Linus nodded thoughtfully, absorbing the details. Marcus hesitated, then leaned in, his voice lowering.
"There’s one more critical development," he murmured. "Sorenputhra has made its first move. Their forces are advancing along the eastern border. Underwood has been ordered to respond—to display strength."
A smile played on Linus’s lips. The shifting tides of power and the looming threat of war were opportunities ripe for manipulation. "And the other matter?" he prompted, eyes glinting with anticipation.
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Marcus glanced around, confirming they were alone, then leaned in, whispering quietly into Linus’s ear. Linus’s smile broadened upon hearing what Marcus had to say. "Let’s hope the bait is taken," he murmured, his tone barely above a whisper.
Linus leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers as he mentally mapped out the next moves. "We’ll need to stay vigilant," he said. "Keep a close watch on the guards’ activities and monitor Underwood’s movements. We can’t afford any surprises."
Marcus nodded. "Understood. I’ll make the necessary arrangements."
As Marcus turned to leave, Linus called him back. "And what about Mara?"
Marcus paused, his expression momentarily uncertain. "She’s gone to the border as well," he replied. "She was summoned last night."
Linus made his way to the window, watching as Marcus departed. Thornfield lay beneath him, the town teetering on the brink of chaos.
"Tonight," he whispered to himself, his resolve hardening in his chest, "tonight, everything changes."
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the town in shadow, Linus prepared himself for whatever lay ahead. One way or another, he was ready.
Linus made his way through the nearly empty streets to the drama studio. A faint glow from the windows indicated the troupe was still working late, and he slipped inside, his steps light and silent. He found Amy by the stage, organizing costumes and props. She noticed him approach and offered a warm smile, though her expression was laced with fatigue.
"Hello, Amy," he said smoothly, "is Aria around? I had hoped to speak with her."
Amy’s smile faltered, her hands stilling over the fabric she had been folding. "Aria hasn’t come in today," she whispered. "She mentioned she wasn’t feeling well."
Linus tilted his head slightly. "And?"
Amy hesitated, glancing toward the door as if someone might be lurking just beyond it. Then, lowering her voice, she leaned in. "It’s… odd," she admitted. "No one’s seen her. Not at her hotel, not at the tavern. Nowhere."
Linus held her gaze, waiting.
Amy licked her lips, nervous but unable to resist sharing what she knew. "Some of the troupe are talking. They think she’s found herself a noble protector." She hesitated. "Victor of the Crimson family."
A beat passed. Then, slowly, Linus smiled.
Amy leaned in slightly, her voice a hushed whisper. " A few of the girls claim Aria’s been getting close to Victor of the Crimson family. They say there’s an affair brewing between them, and that’s where she’s probably spending her night."
"Victor?" Linus repeated, masking his surprise. Victor was a known figure in Thornfield, the Crimson family’s favored son—charming, wealthy, but with a reputation for indulging in fleeting affairs.
Linus allowed a faint smile to play across his lips, though his mind raced with this new information. "Thank you for letting me know, Amy. I will see her at a different time then. Thanks for the information."
Amy looked up, her cheeks flushing slightly under his gaze. "I’m happy to help," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
Linus took her hand, gently brushing his thumb over her knuckles. Slowly, he leaned down, his lips brushing hers in a soft, lingering kiss. She melted under his touch, her breath catching as she reciprocated, her fingers curling into his jacket.
When he pulled back, a small, playful smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I need to leave now, but I'll see you soon," he said softly, his voice gentle as his gaze lingered on hers for a moment longer.
Amy’s blush intensified, revealing a blend of shyness and delight. "Goodnight, Linus."
With one last lingering look, he released her hand and turned, slipping out of the studio, his mind already shifting back to Aria’s absence and the possibilities it held.
As midnight approached, the air grew cooler, and the streets of Thornfield fell into an eerie silence. The town, cloaked in darkness, seemed to hold its breath as if aware of the significance of the night. Linus felt the weight of the Veilstone Charm in his pocket and the folded map pressed securely against his side. Moving through the shadows, each step was deliberate and quiet, his senses sharpened by the anticipation of what lay ahead.
Before making his way to the Sanctuary of the Eternal Flame, Linus took every precaution. He could not afford to be ambushed or followed; multiple factions would likely be on the lookout, hoping to intercept the one who held the key to the sanctuary. He paused at the edge of town, extending his hand to summon his shadow birds. Their ethereal forms emerged from the darkness, silent and sharp-eyed. With a subtle gesture, he sent them ahead, their silent wings fanning out in all directions to scout the area and reveal any hidden threats.
He then crouched in the shadows, pressing his fingers into the damp earth as he secured the final weapon beneath the loose stones. A dagger, sharp enough to easily slice through flesh, now lay hidden where only he could retrieve it. Next to it, a small cache of healing potions, wrapped carefully in cloth to prevent breakage.
He ran his fingers over the spot again, ensuring it was undisturbed. If things went south tonight, this would be his salvation.
Rising, he adjusted his cloak and took a final glance around. No movement. No sound but the distant whisper of wind through the trees. Satisfied, he slipped back into the night.
As Linus resumed his journey, his mind remained fixed on the sanctuary. Tonight was the Blood Moon, and with the map and the Veilstone Charm in his possession, he was more prepared than ever to confront whatever awaited him within.
Linus moved swiftly, his cloak melding seamlessly with the shadows, his thoughts racing with anticipation for the power the Phoenix Blade could bring. The path, illuminated only by the cold glow of the Blood Moon high above, twisted through dense forest and rocky terrain.
He slowed as he approached the Sanctuary of the Eternal Flame, heightening his caution. The shadow birds he’d sent ahead returned to him one by one, each relaying what it had seen.
He learned figures were lying in wait, scattered among the trees and concealed behind the ancient stone structures surrounding the sanctuary. A smile crept onto his face. The thrill of it, the adrenaline coursing through him—this would be a challenging night. Knowing he wasn’t alone only sharpened his focus, heightening his senses.
Tonight, it would be a game of skill, strategy, and the thrill of the unknown.
He crouched behind a large boulder, surveying the scene before him. The sanctuary was a grand structure, its stone walls worn and covered with centuries-old moss and ivy. The entrance, an archway carved with intricate runes, seemed to hum with a faint, pulsing light as if acknowledging the power of the Blood Moon above. Linus could feel the energy thrumming in the air, and it sharpened his focus.
He would need a plan and fast. With the map and Phoenix’s Heart gem in his possession, Linus had the upper hand, but he still lacked the key to fully unlocking the sanctuary: a light mage. He couldn’t do this alone, not with so many unknown players on the board.
Taking a deep breath, he straightened and called out into the darkness, his voice slicing through the night. “Come out!” he commanded, his tone exuding authority and challenge. “We’re all here for the same reason. Hiding won’t get us anywhere—let’s talk.”