Chapter 58 – The Empress Before the Crown
The mountains that guarded the Obsidian Spire were called the Thorns of Fate—named for the countless armies that had died trying to breach them. From the high peaks, Jean watched the spire rise like a black needle into a blood-red sky. Thunder coiled overhead. Smoke rose in spirals from its steel-clad walls.
It was not a palace. It was a wound in the world.
Jean tightened her cloak and turned to Whitney. "No more running. We climb tonight."
The direwolf gave a soft, low growl in agreement.
By midnight, they reached the lower walls—fortified, silent, and humming with a ward Jean had never felt before. It wasn't Aura. It wasn't magic.
It was something older.
Whitney halted.
"Jean," he spoke—not in growls, but in his true voice, deep and low, like an ancient forest—"there's a memory buried beneath this place. I smell Severra's soul... and something else. Something twisted."
Jean touched Luxclade. The blade pulsed with warmth.
They moved silently through the ventilation towers, using the secret crest Silvia gave to bypass the inner defenses. Soon, Jean stood before a chamber bathed in molten light—a vault, sealed by thousands of runes. And in its center hovered a crystal of living flame.
The second shard.
Severra's soul.
And beside it… a portrait. Hidden in shadow.
Jean stepped closer.
The figure in the painting wore a white dress, and her eyes were storm-gray. She looked young. Strong. But tired. A crown of thorns sat upon her brow, and her hand rested not on a scepter, but a blade.
There was no name.
But Jean felt it.
The Empress before the crown… was once an Emissary.
A plaque beneath the portrait read:
> Alarienne of the East — Emissary of Judgment. Chosen of the god Vorokhal.
Jean recoiled.
"She was like me," she whispered.
But corrupted.
Twisted by the god she once served.
Whitney murmured, "She wasn't always the enemy."
Behind them, steel boots echoed.
Jean turned as a squad of black-armored knights entered, weapons raised.
From behind them came the sound of heels striking marble.
A woman in red-and-black armor stepped forward, her eyes alight with embers, her aura like smothered flame.
The Iron Empress.
Alarienne.
"You came for my heart," she said. "But it already beats in me."
Jean raised Luxclade.
"I came for the truth."
The Empress smiled, but it was cold. "Then learn it before I end you."
---