The air reeked of death. Ash, blood, and the echo of screams lingered in the ruined Ashen Crows' camp. I knelt in the dirt, my hands trembling, slick with blood that wasn't mine. Lirien's amulet lay at my feet, its runes dark, as if its effort to hold me back had drained its light. Yet I felt it—a faint pulse, like a heartbeat, urging me to take it.
I didn't. I couldn't.
Not while the Umbral's voice roared in my head, mocking, promising.
> "A king takes, Echo. And you will take everything."
Nyra stood before me, her knife trembling in her hand. Her eyes—sharp as the blade she held—never left mine.
> "Tell me the truth, Arion," she repeated, voice cracking, yet burning with fury I recognized.
The fury of the betrayed. Of someone who had learned not to trust.
We were mirrors, she and I. But mirrors can break.
> "There's no truth you want to hear," I said, voice cold, though my chest burned.
Black veins writhed beneath my skin, climbing my neck—each one a reminder of the price I'd paid.
The dead mercenary. His chest torn as if a beast had ripped him apart from the inside.
That had been the Umbral's price.
Not one I had chosen—
But one I had allowed.
Just like I had allowed Lirien to die.
Just like I had allowed my former life to end with a dagger in my back.
Nyra stepped closer, her blade now inches from my throat.
> "Don't play with me," she hissed.
"That power… the Aether. You killed a hunter like it was nothing.
But it's killing you, isn't it? I saw it in your eyes.
Blood. Pain. What are you, Arion? A monster? A god?"
A god.
The word made me laugh—a dry sound that scraped my throat.
> "I'm no god," I said, rising slowly, ignoring the pain knifing through my body.
"I'm a mistake. And if you don't move, you'll become part of it."
She didn't move.
But her eyes flickered—and for an instant, I saw something beyond the fury.
Fear. Not of me—but of what I represented. Of what the Aether could do.
But before she could respond, a voice cracked through the air like a whip.
> "Enough!"
Dren emerged from the shadows, his obsidian relic glowing in the dying firelight.
The remaining mercenaries—barely a dozen—gathered behind him, weapons drawn but faces pale.
They had seen what I did.
They had seen Tharion turned to ash.
And now they looked at me the same way the villagers once had:
With fear. And hatred.
> "Boy," Dren said, voice low and dangerous.
"You brought death to my camp. A hunter from the Water Realm. Do you know what that means?"
He stepped toward me, fingers grazing the relic at his neck.
> "The kingdoms won't rest until they find you. And we won't die for you."
Nyra tensed, her blade still aimed at me, but her eyes flicked toward Dren.
> "Not our problem," she said coolly.
"Hand him over, and end this."
My heart stopped.
Nyra?
The same Nyra who had sworn not to betray me?
But then I saw it—the glint in her eyes, the way her hand trembled.
It wasn't betrayal.
It was an act.
She was buying time.
Or at least, I hoped she was.
But I couldn't trust her.
I couldn't trust anyone.
> "You won't give me up," I said, my voice firm despite the pain.
"Because you know what I can do."
I raised my hand. The Aether responded—a flash of violet sparking at my fingertips.
The mercenaries recoiled, some muttering prayers.
Dren didn't flinch, but his eyes narrowed.
> "Brave," he said, almost with admiration.
"But foolish. The Aether is a curse, boy. It will consume you long before you can use it against us."
He touched his relic.
And I swear—I saw a flicker of violet inside it. Like an echo of my own.
> "Join me, Arion. Serve the Crows, and I'll protect you.
Defy me, and it won't be me who kills you. It'll be the Umbral."
The name struck like a blow.
How did he know about the Umbral?
My mind raced—
His relic. His words about the Aether.
The way he looked at me—as if he knew more than he let on.
Dren wasn't just a mercenary. He was something else.
But before I could respond, the ground trembled.
A roar filled the air.
Shadows surged from the forest—fast, inhuman.
Not men.
Beasts. Creatures with red eyes and claws like obsidian.
> "Aether beasts!" one mercenary screamed, voice cracking.
"The hunter led them here!"
Chaos erupted.
Blades clashed.
Screams tore through the night.
The mercenaries fought, slashing with daggers and swords—
But the beasts were relentless.
One tore a man apart in seconds, blood soaking the earth.
Nyra hurled herself into the fray, her Air magic slicing like blades—
But even she was overwhelmed.
> "Arion!" she yelled, dodging a claw.
"Do something!"
The Aether howled inside me. But my body shook.
Using it again could kill me.
Black veins already covered my chest.
Blood still dripped from my eyes.
But I had no choice.
I closed my eyes, searching for the amulet on the ground.
I grabbed it.
Its light flickered—faint, but still there.
As if Lirien was still with me.
> "You are enough," she once said.
But I wasn't.
Not without a cost.
> "Use me," the Umbral whispered.
Now a roar.
"Destroy them, and the path to the throne will open. But choose your sacrifice."
I didn't want to choose.
But the beasts were killing everyone—
The Crows. Nyra.
All of them.
And Dren, his relic glowing, stared at me.
Waiting.
Did he know what was coming?
Was this a test?
I let the Aether flow.
The world shattered.
Time cracked.
A violet explosion ripped through the camp.
The beasts turned to ash, red eyes fading.
But the pain was unbearable.
I collapsed.
Vision darkening.
Blood poured from my mouth.
The black veins covered my face.
And I felt my soul tear—
A piece ripped away by the Umbral.
When I opened my eyes, the camp was a graveyard.
Bodies lay scattered.
But one stood out—the man who had given me water.
The same from the vision.
His chest torn, but this time something glowed inside:
A shard of obsidian, pulsing like Dren's relic.
> "The price," the Umbral whispered.
"And it is not yet paid."
Dren stood unharmed, his relic glowing brighter than ever.
> "Impressive," he said, voice cold.
"But not enough. The Aether claims you, boy. And so do I."
He stepped forward, sword drawn.
> "Swear loyalty to me—or die here."
Nyra, panting, stepped between us, her knife raised.
> "Touch him, and I'll kill you," she growled—
But her gaze flicked to me, full of doubt.
> "Arion, tell me what's happening. Now."
I looked down at the amulet in my hand.
Its light—almost gone.
The vision of the throne returned.
Blood. Corpses.
Nyra—dead.
Lirien—dead.
And me, seated with a broken crown.
The Umbral laughed.
> "Choose, Echo. The throne—or nothing."
> "I serve no one," I whispered.
But as I looked at Dren, his relic, and Nyra—her blade shaking—
I knew:
The path to the throne demanded more than blood.
It demanded betrayal.
And this time—
I would be the one to commit it.