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CHAPTER 32 — The Shadow of the Sovereign
The roar faded through the forest like thunder rolling across the ribs of the earth.
Liora felt it inside her bones.
Arin felt it like a threat aimed at his heartbeat.
But Dragonsong…
Dragonsong felt it answer him.
His hand tightened around the shard the Fire-Wraith had given him. The black stone pulsed once — a deep, slow vibration that traveled up his arm to his chest.
As if the Sovereign itself had spoken through it.
Arin stepped forward cautiously.
"Dragonsong… did you hear that too?"
Dragonsong didn't reply.
Liora grabbed his arm.
"Dragonsong."
Her touch snapped him back.
"Yes," he breathed. "I heard it."
"What did it mean?" Liora asked, voice trembling.
He turned toward the darkening horizon.
"It means the Sovereign has finally noticed us."
Arin swallowed. "Noticed you, you mean."
Dragonsong didn't deny it.
The trees shivered with a sudden gust of wind. Leaves scattered. Birds fled in frantic bursts of wings. Even the ground seemed restless, vibrating with unpredictable tremors.
"The illusions," Dragonsong muttered, scanning the forest. "They're not accidents anymore. The Sovereign is pushing them."
Liora hugged herself tightly, feeling the last echo of her village's burning memory fade from her skin.
"So what does it want?"
Dragonsong answered with a hollow calm.
"Me."
Arin stepped between them, jaw clenched.
"We're not handing you over. We're not abandoning you to that monster."
Dragonsong almost smiled — something tired and soft.
"I know."
But the look in his eyes said something different:
You might not get a choice.
Another tremor rippled beneath their feet, stronger this time. A crack split the forest floor, sending roots snapping and soil collapsing inward.
Liora gasped and stumbled. Arin caught her before she fell.
"Careful!"
But Dragonsong didn't move.
He stared into the widening crack as if something was calling to him from within the earth itself.
"Dragonsong!" Liora shouted.
He blinked, shaking off whatever trance had gripped him. "We need to move. Now."
Arin nodded. "Back to the Herald? Or toward the Cinder Gate?"
"Toward the Gate," Dragonsong said immediately. "If the Sovereign is reaching through memories, the Gate will be the first place it tries to break through."
"But we're not ready," Liora whispered.
"Neither is the world," Dragonsong replied.
They started moving through the forest, this time faster, more urgent. Every step felt heavier than the last. The air thickened with heat. Shadows curled unnaturally around tree trunks. The sky overhead dimmed to a strange ochre color.
The world felt wrong.
As they pushed deeper, Liora felt her heart tug toward Dragonsong — not in romance, but in fear.
He walked ahead with a strange, distant calm, like a man who already knew what waited for him on the other side of the Gate.
A man preparing himself to die.
She quickened her steps until she reached him.
"Dragonsong… look at me."
He didn't.
So she grabbed his arm again.
"Something's happening to you. I know you don't want to say it. I know you think keeping us safe means keeping quiet. But if you break alone, then everything we're fighting for falls apart."
Dragonsong stopped walking.
Slowly, he turned to her — and for the first time, she saw fear in his eyes.
Not fear of the Sovereign.
Fear of himself.
"Liora," he said softly, "the shard… it's changing me. Or awakening something inside me. I don't know which."
Arin froze behind them. "Changing you how?"
Dragonsong opened his hand.
The shard pulsed again.
This time, the light inside it flickered in the same rhythm as Dragonsong's heartbeat.
Liora's breath caught.
"It's syncing with you."
Dragonsong nodded. "And I can feel… pieces of something. Memories that aren't mine. Emotions I've never felt. Voices I've never heard."
Arin raised his blade instinctively.
"Then drop it. Throw it away."
Dragonsong shook his head.
"I can't. If I let it go… the Sovereign will find it. And if it gets all the keys before we reach the Gate—"
The forest answered for him.
A piercing scream tore through the trees.
Liora spun around.
"That wasn't human."
"No," Dragonsong said. "It wasn't."
The bushes burst apart as a creature lunged into view — twisted limbs, molten cracks glowing across its skin, a face contorted by agony and fire.
A Cinderborn.
One of the Sovereign's creations.
Except this one's eyes glowed with something else.
Recognition.
And rage.
It pointed a burning claw at Dragonsong and screeched:
"USURPER!"
Arin shoved Liora behind him. "We're attacked!"
Dragonsong stepped forward, blade drawn, voice calm but dark.
"No. This isn't an attack."
The Cinderborn launched itself at him.
Dragonsong met it head-on.
Steel clashed with embers. Fire burst into sparks. The creature shrieked as Dragonsong's blade carved through its molten flesh.
But before it could fall, it grabbed his arm and hissed in his ear:
"HE WANTS HIS THRONE BACK."
Then it dissolved into ash.
A heavy silence fell.
Liora trembled.
"Dragonsong… what throne?"
Dragonsong wiped the soot from his blade.
Then, finally, he answered:
"The Sovereign's."
Arin stared at him, stunned. "You're telling me the Sovereign thinks you're—"
Dragonsong sheathed his blade, expression hollow.
"—the one who stole his crown."
The wind died.
The forest froze.
Liora whispered, barely breathing:
"Dragonsong…
what are you?"
He didn't answer.
Because he didn't know anymore.