Chapter 14: In the Shadow of Her Name
They left the ruins of the old theater before sunrise.
Aria didn't speak much.
Neither did Damien.
The scent of magic still clung to her skin. Whatever she'd done to those envoys — it had drained her in ways no spell ever had.
She'd expected fear.
What she felt was something stranger.
Clarity.
The kind that came when the curtain began to rise — and you suddenly realized you'd spent your whole life inside someone else's play.
The meeting with "K" happened just after dawn.
A code was sent to a dropbox Damien still had access to. GPS coordinates, a warning to come unarmed, and a name:
Kestrel.
The message ended with a phrase in an old tongue:
"The blade remembers the hand."
Aria frowned at it. "What does that mean?"
Damien looked at her quietly. "That Kestrel is one of yours."
The rooftop was abandoned.
High above the city, steel rails creaked in the wind. A garden that had long since withered surrounded the remnants of what used to be a private helipad.
And there, standing against the dawn, was a woman in a black trench coat.
Short-cropped hair. A long scar running from her temple to her jaw.
Eyes like burnt amber.
"Aria," she said as they approached. "You look better this time."
"You've seen me before?"
"Too many times."
Aria tilted her head. "And you are?"
"Kestrel," the woman said. "Knight of the Broken Flame. Sworn to you for three lifetimes."
Aria tried not to react.
Tried to keep the chill from running down her spine.
Kestrel smiled faintly. "You don't remember me. That's alright. I remember you."
Damien crossed his arms. "Why the secrecy?"
"Because the Hollow Court has eyes in places you've both forgotten to look."
Aria stepped closer. "Like where?"
Kestrel handed her a file.
Thin. Black. No markings.
But inside—
Photographs.
Surveillance reports.
Charts with magical glyphs embedded in corporate architecture blueprints.
And on the final page:
VANTIER GROUP — Executive Tower, 87th Floor
Hollow Court sigil: embedded beneath the CEO's desk
Aria stared at the paper.
Her heart began to pound.
"This is my father's company," she said quietly.
Damien cursed under his breath.
"They've taken the 87th floor," Kestrel said. "It started with the security firm your board brought in last winter. One of their 'partners' was Hollow."
"But the Vantier Group is protected," Aria argued. "It has a blood seal. No outsider can walk the upper floors without—"
"Unless," Kestrel cut in, "the blood seal was rewritten. With your DNA."
Aria froze.
"How—?"
"They used a hair," Kestrel said. "From your old apartment. You've been back less than a week, and they already cracked the locks."
The wind whipped past.
The truth settled like iron in Aria's stomach.
The Hollow Court wasn't approaching her family's empire.
They were already inside it.
"I should've known," Aria whispered. "They wouldn't attack from the outside. They always burrow. Always corrupt."
Kestrel nodded. "They know you. Better than you know yourself."
Damien took the file and scanned it again. "If they control the 87th floor, what are they doing with it?"
Kestrel pulled a small device from her coat and handed it to him.
"A schematic. They're not just building a gate. They're replicating a soul siphon."
Aria's blood went cold. "That's banned magic."
"In this realm, yes," Kestrel said. "But in Faerondel, the Hollow Court used soul siphons to drain city populations before sieging the capitals. It weakens all magical defenses — and boosts theirs."
Damien turned to Aria. "If they finish this here… the breach could widen beyond repair."
"They're going to use my family's tower as a beacon," she realized. "To burn both realms from the inside out."
Kestrel nodded once. "Now you see why I called you."
Aria's eyes narrowed. "Then why haven't you stopped them?"
"I'm your blade, Aria. But you sealed me after the war. I can't act unless you unbind the lock yourself."
Aria's breath caught. "You were part of my final spell."
"Yes," Kestrel said. "You bound me so I could never be corrupted. Never turned. But it means I can't interfere. Not without your flame."
Damien looked at Aria. "You have to unseal her."
Aria hesitated.
It wasn't fear.
It was responsibility.
The last time she unbound something sacred… the world had nearly died.
But then she looked at Kestrel.
And saw loyalty written in every scar.
Aria raised her hand.
And whispered the words of unsealing.
Ancient.
Personal.
Etched in flame beneath the breath of the world.
Kestrel dropped to one knee as her body shimmered with light.
The trench coat disappeared.
In its place — armor forged in black and red.
A sword on her back.
A crown fragment embedded over her heart.
"I'm yours again," Kestrel said softly.
"And I won't fail you this time."
Back at their temporary safehouse, Aria sat alone for a long time, staring at the plans.
The Vantier Tower.
Her legacy.
Her father's throne.
Her own corporate empire, stolen from within.
She clenched her fists.
"This isn't just a magical war anymore," she whispered. "It's personal."
Damien stepped into the room. "Then make it yours again."
She looked up at him.
He held out a ring.
Her old signet — the one she wore as heir to both the Vantier legacy and the crown of Faerondel.
"Put it on," he said.
Aria took it.
Slid it onto her finger.
It pulsed with heat.
Recognition.
And power.
Then she stood.
And said the words that changed everything:
"I want my company back."