The slab groaned as Jaeren forced his weight onto his elbows. The Stained Shackles hummed with a low, predatory vibration that seemed to pull at his very essence.
Kova stood back, watching with a clinical detachment as the greatest knight of the generation struggled to sit upright.
"Where are they?" Jaeren asked. Each word sounded like a rusted hinge being forced open. "I want to see my children."
"They're safe," Kova replied. "Safe in a way the King could never guarantee. They're within me."
Jaeren swung his legs over the side of the stone. His skin was pale, mapped with the black veins of the ritual that had pulled him back from the dead. He looked down at his hands. The callouses were there, but the warmth of his blood felt like ice water.
"My son," Jaeren whispered. "Jae... Jaeger wasn't there. Where is he?"
"He lives," Kova said. "My brother found him lacking in interest. A final mercy he didn't deserve."
Jaeren looked up. The hollow grey in his eyes sharpened.
"You speak of Koma as if he's a god. but.. but I've seen gods bleed. I've made them bleed."
Kova tilted his head. A cold, mocking light entered his gaze.
"You've never fought a god," Kova said. "You've never seen one. You only have stories that depict what you believe to be out there. Mythologies, beliefs, and lies. You were a king's hound, Jaeren. You fought for a man who traded your life for a handful of stones. Don't speak to me of power."
Lokee stepped forward, her hands still trembling from the energy drain. "He needs rest, Kova. The Shroud of Absence is still thin. If he pushes too hard, his consciousness will fragment.
"He doesn't have time for rest," Kova countered.
Jaeren stood up. His height was imposing even in his weakened state. He took a single, unsteady step, his boots echoing against the obsidian floor.
He looked toward the corner of the room where a polished silver shield hung on the wall. He moved toward it, drawn by the need to see what he'd become. He stopped in front of the metal. He stared at the reflection. The man in the shield was a ghost. His hair was the color of ash. The vibrant, golden light that once defined the Whiteflame lineage was gone, replaced by a flickering, sickly grey.
The Stained Shackles were visible beneath his skin, black lines that wrapped around his throat and wrists. Jaeren reached out to touch the reflection. His fingers left a smudge on the cold silver.
"This isn't me," he rasped.
"It's what's left," Kova said, walking toward the door.
"The man you were died in the dirt of your estate. The man you are now belongs to the Speedhardt bloodline. You're the first of our ghosts."
Kova stopped at the threshold and looked back.
"I'll grant you one wish, Jaeren. I'll let you see your children one last time. All of them, excluding Jaeger." "In exchange, you'll tell me everything regarding the Eyes. You'll tell me the truth behind the power you and my father hid from the world."
Jaeren turned away from the shield. The confusion in his eyes was being replaced by a cold, hard focus. He could feel the connection to his children, a faint tugging at his soul that led toward the shadow in Kova's back.
"Take me to them," Jaeren commanded.
Kova didn't answer. He simply flicked his wrist, and the mouth of the Void opened once more. The black smoke curled around Jaeren's feet.
Without a second thought, the fallen commander stepped into the darkness, leaving the world of the living behind.
In the Royal Capital, the rain had stopped, but the air remained heavy. Athena left her room, her footsteps hurried and echoing through the silent corridors. She reached the Council Room and pushed the heavy doors open.
Inside, King Voss Halloway was bent over a large mahogany table, surrounded by Renci and a small group of elite guards. The King's finger tapped rhythmically against the wood.
He and his men were devising a plan to eliminate Kova when he returned for the diamonds in the morning, intending to execute a lethal ambush the moment he appeared in the palace.
Athena stood in the center of the room, facing her father. "He's gone, Father," Athena said. Her voice was steady, cutting through their plotting. "He'll never come back to serve this crown."
The King looked up from the table, his jaw tightening.
"We were just discussing the logistics of his payment, Athena. A final transaction."
"I gave him what he wanted," Athena continued, her voice firm.
Voss went rigid. He slowly stood upright, his hands pressing flat against the surface of the table. "You let them walk? You let him take the wealth of this kingdom after he threatened my life?"
"I gave him the diamonds. I did it to save you. I did it to save the capital from becoming a graveyard."
The King's shadow loomed large over the table. He looked at his daughter, the heir to his throne and the only person who could speak to him with such bluntness.
His eyes burned with a cold fury as he realized his plans for a lethal morning strike had been rendered useless by her choice. Slowly, the anger ebbed into a grim, hollow acceptance.
"Fine," Voss muttered, looking down at the map. "It's nothing more we can do."
He turned his gaze toward Renci. "Start a campaign. We're hosting an event. We need new Royal Knights."
The King stood tall, his voice reclaiming its authority as he looked around the room.
"Everyone leave. Now. Athena, you stay."
The guards and Renci left out the room in silence, the heavy doors thudding shut behind them.
Voss walked toward her, his heavy boots clicking against the stone. He stopped inches away, his presence suffocating.
"Did you love him?" Voss asked. The question was a low, dangerous growl.
Athena didn't flinch, though the air in the room felt thin.
"Think wise about your answer, daughter," Voss warned, his eyes boring into hers.
"It'll determine if I send people to find and kill him. He's a nuisance and if he's the man who stole my daughter's heart, he's a threat that must be erased."
Athena looked at the candlelight reflecting in her father's cold eyes. She knew the weight of her words. She knew that the life of the man who had just vanished into the night depended entirely on the answer she gave.
"I did," Athena said. The words were quiet but carried a weight that seemed to settle over the entire room. "And you won't do anything to him."
Voss stared at her, his expression unreadable as the silence stretched between them. He searched her face for a sign of weakness, for a reason to break his promise, but he found only the iron will he had cultivated in her since birth.
"You're my favorite child, Athena," Voss whispered, his voice softening while the tension remained. "For that reason alone, I'll let this be but don't think the world will forget what he is."
Athena didn't answer. She simply watched her father, knowing that while he'd let the matter rest for now, the shadows Kova left behind would never truly vanish.