Chapter 10: Allegiances

  Aeor Calder

  After the Flameward Exarch announced the Initiation, the upper clergy retreated into the Sanctum with ceremonial calm. Murmurs swept through the square, and while some left immediately, many lingered to inspect their newly updated Archive statuses.

  Aeor did the same.

  He drew out his parchment and unfolded it, expecting only minor changes, but a new thread had appeared.

  Threads:

  ???

  Type: Forbidden Thread

  Status: Dormant / Unknown

  Throne of Sol'Karenth

  Type: Woven (S)

  Status: Ongoing

  Details: -

  Why are the details hidden...

  As the thought stirred in Aeor’s mind, the parchment shimmered faintly. All other text vanished, leaving only the thread.

  Overview:

  The world of Sol’Karenth has entered a state of Judged Initiation.

  Twelve Ancients stir from beneath flame and silence. Their existence fractures the balance, and so the Archives demand balance.

  Three Factions have been appointed.

  Each is bound by decree.

  Each may act only on its assigned path:

  Appease: Through reverence and unity, peace may be bought.

  Subjugate: Through force and dominance, control may be claimed.

  Slay: Through ruin and death, the future may be severed from the past.

  Each Dragon bears weight, The Weight of Existence.

  When a path is fulfilled, the Scales tilt.

  Should more than half the Weight remain unclaimed at the time of Reckoning, Judgment shall fall, and Sol’Karenth shall be unmade.

  Current Progress:

  Scales Acquired: 34 / 100

  The Reigning Crown

  Scales: 5

  Leader: Sovereign Vaireth Solenar

  The Heir of Solenar

  Scales: 9

  Leader: Princess Serenya Solenar

  The Reclaimers

  Scales: 20

  Leader: Kalvaxus

  Contributors:

  Draeven Marr (deceased) (20)

  Serenya Solenar (9)

  Vaireth Solenar (5)

  Ancients:

  Vaelkar (Slain) (20)

  Naeysar (Appeased) (9)

  Zorvaketh (Subjugated) (5)

  Contributors section? Aeor blinked. Vaelkar died over a thousand years ago and yet that act still counts toward the trial? So for all that time, only 14 scales were claimed?

  He exhaled slowly. I doubt we’ll have that kind of time.

  "It says you haven't picked a faction." Zoey’s voice rang beside him.

  "Where do you see that?" Aeor asked, turning.

  "Same spot as your general info. Check it."

  He did.

  Name: Aeor Calder

  Race: Human

  World of Origin: Khorvalen

  Essence Tier: Awakened (E)

  Essence Stability: Flickering

  Affinity: Death

  Class: Unclassified (Thread Forming)

  Allegiance: Unallied

  Aeor glanced at Zoey and activated Threadgaze to check her allegiance.

  Allegiance: Unallied

  He swept the plaza, studying others. Velora. Dregor. Also unallied.

  All the Local populace, including Zura, had the same allegiance

  Allegiance: The Reigning Crown

  Before he could reflect, he realized something.

  "Where are Gurz and Barek?" he asked.

  They looked around. The crowd had thickened, but remained loose. The plaza, built for ceremonies, never felt congested despite the growing numbers.

  Then, from the far side, opposite the Sanctum, a voice rang out:

  "Somebody stop them!"

  Other shouts followed, swallowed by echoes and conversation.

  "Let’s go check it out," Zoey said, already weaving through the crowd.

  Didn’t she scold me for doing the same thing? Aeor thought, trailing after her, with the others close behind.

  Near the exit, a group had gathered. Priests and guards were forming a circle. At its heart stood Gurz and Barek, cornered, but holding their ground. Helping maintain the perimeter was a tall figure clad in local garb, but with unmistakable features: deep blue skin and violet eyes that gleamed with control.

  Aeor activated Threadgaze.

  Iskar IV

  Race: Human

  Essence Tier: Awakened (E)

  Essence Stability: Flickering

  Status: Normal

  Allegiance: The Reigning Crown

  Human? Aeor blinked. That’s... a strange complexion for a human.

  Whatever this was, it wasn’t random.

  The air felt ready to ignite.

  "Stop!" Zura shouted, forcing her way through the encirclement until she stood beside Barek and Gurz. Her cloak rippled with her motion, fury rising in her voice. "What is going on here?"

  A local guard stepped forward, tension stiffening his shoulders. His hand rested on the hilt of his blade.

  "Zura," he growled. "You're in on this as well?"

  "In on what, Alar?" Zura snapped, confusion overtaking her anger.

  "Use Threadgaze. On them."

  Zura hesitated, then turned. The look on their faces said more than words. Neither Barek nor Gurz met her eyes.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Whispers spread through the crowd. Aeor activated Threadgaze alongside others nearby. The result was clear.

  Allegiance: The Heir of Solenar

  Zura stared, the betrayal written plainly across her face. Her breath caught, fury and heartbreak warring in her voice. "What does this mean? Is the allegiance randomized?"

  Barek still wouldn’t meet her gaze.

  The plaza fell into a hush, all ears turned toward them.

  Zura turned to Gurz, her voice rising. "Answer me, you two!"

  Gurz stepped forward, voice quiet. "We can explain later. Not here."

  "Explain what!?" Her voice cracked. "You remember what happened nine years ago! What they did to Xora!"

  "Of course I remember," Gurz snapped, pain flashing in his eyes. "But—"

  "Then why!?"

  "Not now, Zura. Please. Trust us. We'll speak at the inn."

  "You’re not going anywhere," Alar said, stepping forward, mace in hand.

  Zura moved without hesitation, stepping between the guards and her family. Her arms spread protectively, hands trembling.

  Fear etched itself across her face. Not fear for herself, but the kind born from knowing what loss feels like, and not being willing to face it again.

  Dregor started forward, stone cracking beneath his boots. Aeor mirrored him, but Velora’s hand caught their arms.

  Aeor looked at Velora, confused. While Dregor didn’t stop.

  "Dregor, wait!" Velora hissed, but he didn’t look back.

  "If this turns violent," Velora whispered, eyes sharp, "do you want to be caught in the center, or strike from the outside?"

  Zoey leaned in as well, catching the end of her words. She nodded.

  Dregor broke through the outer line, forcing his way into the ring. The guards didn't protest.

  Inside the circle, he stood tall. Stone floated around him in a slow, deliberate orbit. His voice rumbled. "If anyone here takes another step toward them, they won’t live to regret it."

  Tension snapped through the crowd.

  Then a voice rang out.

  "Enough."

  The crowd parted. A priest walked forward, flanked by two others in solemn robes. Aeor recognized him immediately. Bren. The old priest from the tavern.

  Bren gave a small nod to his companions. They turned and dashed toward the Sanctum.

  He stepped into the circle.

  "Warden," one of the guards barked. "Do you wish for us to let these traitors go?"

  Bren faced the guard directly. "What do you gain from this? Moments ago you were brothers in arms and now, just because a few words were spoken, you are enemies?"

  "You know where the clergy stands," Alar said coldly. "Step aside."

  Bren raised his hands. Flames curled around his fingers. Not threatening, but steady.

  "The clergy stands with the people," he said. "Not factions. Not crowns. We serve Sol’Karenth. Not its politics."

  Alar's jaw clenched. "That girl, that princess, has no right to call herself the heir. This conflict has already taken enough lives."

  Gurz stepped forward, voice steel. "And who started that conflict? Vaireth Solenar usurped the throne. You all saw Serenya's bond, the great wyrm Naeysar. By ancient law, the strongest bond determines the heir. The late king's son has committed an unforgivable sin."

  Alar's lip curled. "UNFORGIVABLE SIN!? You dare mock the descendant of the sun?"

  "Princess Serenya is the rightful heir. Even the Archives recognize her true statue."

  "Dammed be the Archives, and its little games. This ends now!"

  Blades were drawn. Swords gleamed in the light. Flintlocks cocked. The circle thickened.

  Some priests stepped back, unwilling. But a few remained silent and grim.

  Cracks spidered from Dregor’s feet. Gravity pulsed around him. Zoey readied her skillet. Aeor loosened his sword in its sheath. Velora's mist began to swirl.

  Silence fell all around.

  The plaza held its breath.

  The moment shattered in a single breath.

  A guard lunged forward, steel drawn. Dregor moved without hesitation. His boots slammed into the stone, and the ground cracked beneath him. Rocks rippled outward like a silent wave, toppling guards and scattering lesser priests.

  Chaos ignited.

  Screams rang out as the crowd scattered. Locals fled toward the Sanctum or disappeared into alleys, pushing past stunned onlookers and frozen clergy. The guards rallied fast, moving in formation, reducing the encirclement. In the middle stood Gurz, Barek, Zura, Dregor, and Bren.

  Outside the ring, Velora whispered, "Now."

  Aeor darted right, hugging the edge of the fray. Zoey veered left. Velora remained at the center. All three struck together.

  Velora conjured spectral daggers before the shield-bearers, halting their advance. Aeor gathered a thin layer of death essence around his blade.

  I hope this dulls the edge. Killing isn’t the goal here.

  He swung hard, striking a guard’s armor and sending him crashing into his allies. The formation buckled.

  Zoey fired bursts of pressurized water at the guards’ feet, knocking several off balance and disrupting their stance.

  Shouts erupted. Orders to hold. To reform. Too late.

  Velora raised a hand. Mist curled around her ankles, growing dense. She whispered, and the mist surged forward, then dissipated.

  A calm voice cut through the noise.

  "You should have stayed out of this."

  Iskar stepped forward, his deep blue skin catching the light like polished stone.

  He conjured a water staff and threw it towards Velora.

  "Stay out? Who gave you the authority… boy?" Her voice was steady.

  Mist swirled. She vanished.

  Iskar’s head snapped around. "Authority? I don’t need any."

  To his right, mist coalesced. Before it could form, he conjured another staff swung through the mist, scattering it.

  "Too slow," he muttered. "I expected more from someone with stabilized Essence."

  "Who said I was slow?"

  The voice came from behind.

  Velora emerged, death essence coiling around her palms. She tapped his back.

  A ripple detonated. Iskar flew forward, crashing into the stone.

  Aeor moved through the broken ring just as a guard raised a mace toward Dregor. The blow came fast.

  Stone surged over Dregor's arms. He caught the strike, the weight reverberating through him. Another came, faster, fire dancing across the weapon. The blow forcing him back.

  The guard stepped in, unaware of Aeor's approach. A blade flashed, striking low, severing his grip. The mace flew. A follow-up kick, laced with death essence, sent the man sprawling.

  "You good?" Aeor asked, scanning the field.

  "Nimble with your feet as well?" Dregor rumbled.

  "I know a thing or two."

  The field broke into fragments. Guards fought in disjointed clusters. Zoey flanked wide, Velora flickered between shadows, and the tide shifted.

  The mage-guard rose again, eyes locking on them.

  "Together?" Dregor asked.

  "Together."

  On the far side, Gurz and Barek held the line. Bren stood with them, fists wreathed in flame. Zura did not fight. She stood behind Barek, eyes locked on him and her brother.

  More guards kept coming.

  Essence clashed through the plaza.

  Aeor ducked beneath a slicing arc of fire. He surged forward, meeting the guard’s strike with his own. Fire erupted in a dome as the two forces collided, flame against death.

  Dregor dropped in behind. Gravity pulsed from his body. The guard stumbled.

  Aeor didn’t hesitate.

  He feinted left, twisted, and unleashed a rising slash that carved across the man’s shoulder.

  The blow staggered the guard. Aeor caught a glimpse of his face.

  Alar. The one who started all this.

  Across the plaza, Bren fought on a wounded leg. His flame-wreathed fists moved with brutal efficiency, keeping a half dozen opponents at bay. Velora's mist curled tighter around another group, her gaze fixed on the center of the storm.

  Despite their numbers, the guards were losing ground.

  And in that moment, the Archives answered.

  Aeor's parchment flared at his side. He didn’t need to read it; he felt the shift.

  The system had judged.

  A choice had been made.

  Zoey blinked, her breath catching. She met Aeor’s eyes and gave a grim nod.

  Velora whispered a prayer. Mist coiled closer.

  Dregor didn’t slow. He barreled into the next wave of attackers like a stone avalanche.

  Gurz fired essence-infused bullets with his flintlock. Barek stood beside him, a dancer among chaos. Each strike, each parry, was precise. He disarmed, disoriented, but never killed.

  No one had died.

  Not yet.

  Then the moment turned.

  From behind the shattered line of guards, a figure sprinted forward, deep blue skin gleaming, water staff raised high.

  Iskar.

  He screamed something guttural.

  His target, Zura.

  Barek turned.

  Too late.

  The water staff came down.

  It struck just below her ribs.

  Zura gasped, a wet, sharp sound. Her body jerked forward. Blood blossomed across her tunic.

  She collapsed.

  "ZURA!"

  Gurz was there in a blink. He caught her before she hit the ground, cradling her gently. She trembled in his arms. Her eyes searched his face.

  Her lips moved.

  No words came.

  Iskar lifted his staff again.

  A shadow fell over him.

  Barek moved like a storm.

  His strike came with impossible speed. Bone shattered. Iskar’s chest caved in as he was hurled backward, colliding with a broken pillar.

  He slid down in a lifeless heap.

  Velora saw Zura fall.

  Mist surged. Her robes snapped in the wind as she ran, weaving through bodies and rubble.

  She dropped beside Gurz.

  "She’s breathing," Gurz rasped. "She’s still—"

  "I know."

  Velora pressed her hands to the wound. Violet essence shimmered.

  She whispered.

  Zura coughed weakly, blood on her lips. "Gurz...?"

  "I'm here," he whispered, gripping her hand as though it tethered her to life.

  Velora's brow creased in concentration. The glow beneath her palms flickered, deepened, then dimmed again. She shifted position, whispering words only the mist could hear. More Essence flowed from her fingers, violet and urgent.

  Across the plaza, Aeor stood still, blood trailing down his cheek. His sword hung at his side.

  He saw Zura, limp in Gurz's arms. He saw Velora trying to hold the line between life and loss.

  And he saw Barek.

  Motionless. Silent. Staring.

  Around them, the battle faltered. Guards hesitated. Their formation lost its edge. Rage turned to fear.

  Barek didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

  His eyes never left Zura.

  Essence flickered along his frame. Subtle. Building.

  Zoey stepped beside Aeor, voice shaking. "Is she..."

  "I don’t know."

  The silence thickened. Time stretched.

  Zura exhaled.

  A single, fragile breath.

  Then nothing.

  Velora didn’t lift her hands. But the glow faded. The mist around her slowed... then stilled.

  Gurz didn't speak. He held Zura like glass. His forehead rested against hers, body trembling, grief rippling through him without a sound.

  Barek stood.

  The moment he rose, the temperature shifted.

  Essence snapped around him like embers catching wind. His fists clenched. His breath was heavy. Measured.

  Until it wasn't.

  Flames engulfed his body.

  He moved.

  The nearest guard tried to flee. Barek seized him by the shoulder and drove him into the stone. Bones cracked.

  "Stop him!" someone shouted.

  Aeor spun. A guard lifted a flintlock. Barek hurled him aside like driftwood.

  "Barek!" Aeor screamed. "Stop!"

  No answer.

  No restraint. No remorse. Only fury.

  A priest raised a shield. Barek shattered it with a roar. The impact hurled the man into the air.

  Panic spread. Guards scattered. Some tried to regroup, weapons shaking.

  Zoey stepped forward. Froze.

  "Aeor, we have to—"

  "I know."

  He ran.

  Straight into the fire.

  A young guard, barely older than Aeor, scrambled back, unarmed. Barek raised a blazing fist.

  Aeor threw himself between them.

  "BAREK, ENOUGH!"

  Barek didn’t stop.

  His fist came down.

  Aeor channeled everything he had, every shred of Death essence, into his blade.

  The strike landed.

  The clash sent Aeor flying. He hit the ground hard, vision spinning. He groaned, breath knocked from his lungs.

  But he was alive.

  Zoey froze, horror in her eyes. She stepped forward, then stopped. She wasn’t strong enough.

  None of them were.

  Barek turned.

  The rampage continued.

  Until a pulse of golden light erupted from the Sanctum.

  The Exarch had arrived.