Chapter 5: The Night That Breathes Shadows
The night sky was overcast, and a cold wind scattered dark whispers among the trees of the Misty Forest. Beneath a nearly starless sky, two riders made their way along a rocky path, their pace slow but steady.
Xebec gripped his horse's reins tightly. Though only one hand remained, he rode calm and upright, his gaze fixed forward. Beside him, Aelra glanced at the prince in silence.
"You still trust him?" Aelra asked at last, her voice as quiet as the mist around them.
"Trust who?" Xebec replied.
"Your brother. Even though that mark is growing within him."
Xebec drew a long breath. "Trust and caution can walk side by side. I know something is inside him... But I also know it hasn't claimed him yet."
Aelra didn't answer. She simply looked ahead, toward the trees that began to murmur, their leaves whispering in an ancient tongue only understood by shadows.
"This forest isn't just a place," Aelra said softly. "It is both prison... and warden."
"Prison for what?"
"For Baal."
---
At the Royal Palace of Phillipe
Nanea ran through a secret corridor, her breath ragged. She had just escaped from a figure with violet eyes who had been stalking her. Her robe was torn at the hem, her feet scraped, but the fear in her eyes far outweighed the wounds.
She entered her late mother's study—once Queen Althea's domain—and barricaded the door with a table. Her hands trembled as she lit an old crystal lantern on the desk, casting light upon shelves filled with books, rolled maps, and ancient paintings.
From a stack of documents, she found a book etched in archaic script: Chronika Tenebris. Within its pages lay a diagram of Baal's Seal—and a warning written in dried blood:
"If the seal grows complete beneath the rising Blood Moon... the heir's body shall become the vessel. And Baal shall rise, bearing the name of House Phillipe to scorch the world."
Nanea covered her mouth to stifle a scream. Tears welled in her eyes.
"Bastian... please don't..." she whispered.
---
In the Misty Forest
Xebec and Aelra finally arrived at the heart of the forest, where the ruins of an ancient temple stood within a mist-covered lake. White pillars lay broken, some submerged, but from the gaps between the stones, a faint light glowed—an ancient symbol: the First Light.
Aelra stepped forward, but the mist suddenly swirled, forming tall, slender shadows with blank faces and glowing red eyes.
"They've been waiting for you," Aelra murmured. "Baal's shadows."
Xebec drew his sword. Even with one hand, his movement was steady. He positioned himself between the shadows and the symbol of light.
"If you've come to claim this Light… you'll have to go through me."
The battle erupted.
Aelra chanted a protective spell. Xebec's sword danced through the fog, each strike cleaving through the shadowy figures that surged toward him. But for every shadow destroyed, two more emerged. The mist became a battlefield.
Just as Xebec began to falter, the Light's symbol flared brightly. A burst of radiance swept through the shadows, burning them to ash. When the light faded, a small object floated in the air—a fragment of the Second Pillar of Light.
Xebec reached out and touched it. A surge of memories flashed—ancient pacts, royal blood tied to Baal, and a man with violet eyes.
As he exhaled heavily, Aelra said, "Two Pillars remain. But time… is nearly up."
---
Back at the Palace
Bastian awoke from a nightmare, his body drenched in sweat. He stumbled toward the mirror—and froze. The seal on his back had grown, now resembling the frame of dark wings, spreading to his chest.
He looked into the mirror—and saw another shadow behind his reflection. Baal's shadow.
"We are merging, Bastian…"
Bastian stood frozen, his breath heavy, chest heaving. The once-faint seal now pulsed across his back and shoulders, as if shaping incomplete wings. Black veins stretched from its center to his neck and arms, throbbing with each beat of his heart.
Behind the mirror, something moved.
Baal's shadow was no longer just a reflection. It now stood clearly—tall, crowned with horns, eyes like burning coals. It stared at Bastian as if judging... and waiting.
"You feel it, don't you?" the voice echoed within his head.
Bastian gritted his teeth. "I am not yours."
The shadow grinned. "Not yet... But your blood, your name... your body has been prepared by your ancestors. Their betrayal is your inheritance. And when the appointed time comes, you will open the gate to resurrection."
Suddenly, unbearable pain gripped Bastian's body. He staggered, clutching the wall, and from his back, a burst of dark light flared—casting the shadow of massive wings.
Outside his chamber, the sky above the palace darkened. The stars vanished. A black raven flew across, cawing loudly—as if announcing impending doom.
In agony, Bastian screamed, but his voice was strangled by an unseen force rising from within.
And for a moment… his pupils shifted—into the dark violet of Baal.
---
Back at the Ruins
Xebec collapsed to the ground, gasping for air. The light from the Pillar fragment began to fade, responding to the world's growing unrest. Aelra looked to the sky, her brow furrowed.
"The seal… has crossed the threshold."
Xebec slowly rose to his feet. "We're running out of time."
---
Elsewhere – A Hidden Underground Chamber
An old, hooded man observed the surface of water in a stone basin. His fingers were thin and gnarled like ancient roots gripping the earth. He dipped one finger into the basin—the water rippled, revealing a glimpse of a black sword buried beneath a ruined temple, entangled in roots and stone.
"Baal's blood begins to take root once more..." he murmured. His voice was raspy, yet resolute. "But there's still time to balance the scales."
From his robe, he drew a worn cloth bearing an ancient symbol: a blindfolded eye with golden tears. The forgotten sigil of the kingdom's secret guardians. He turned toward a shadow lurking in the corner of the chamber.
"Wake him. The heir of the Ancient Light must rise before the Dark Prince walks too far."
The shadow nodded—and vanished in an instant, like smoke blown away by the wind.
---
Back at the Palace
Bastian sat slumped on the floor of his chamber, drenched in sweat. The seal had calmed, but heat still lingered in his bones, as if a fire quietly smoldered in his blood.
He stared at his hand, then clenched it into a fist.
"I won't be your puppet," he whispered. But behind his voice, there was doubt, fear... and a part of him slowly awakening, whispering that power was the only way forward.
---
Meanwhile
Xebec and Aelra rode toward the ancient monastery in the north. The night grew darker. The stars were gone, and the air felt heavy.
"We need to find the Grand Scriptorium," said Aelra. "Only there can the true history be revealed... the truth about Baal, and your royal bloodline."
Xebec tightened his grip on the reins.
"I don't care about history if it can't save Bastian," he murmured.
But Aelra looked at him, eyes full of meaning. "Sometimes, to save someone... you must understand where the darkness comes from."
And together, they rode into the deepening night, while the world slowly began to change.
---
To be continued...