The hooded figure turned, and the flickering candlelight caught his face.
Aria froze.
"Xyren…" she whispered, voice unsteady. The syllables felt like they might shatter if she spoke too loudly.
For a moment, he didn't move. Only the light trembled across his dark cloak, catching faint glimmers of blue from the runes carved into the floor. His expression was unreadable — neither anger nor surprise, just the stillness of someone who already expected this moment to come.
He raised his hand.
The ground began to hum.
Thin veins of light traced through the cracks of the stone — blue first, then green, then threads of gold that pulsed like the heartbeat of the earth. The glow grew stronger until it lit the entire chamber, washing the shadows away. Aria stepped back, her pulse thundering. The air vibrated softly against her skin.
Then — shapes emerged.
Five silhouettes stepped forward from the glow, forming a half circle around Xyren. Their presence filled the room, heavy and electric, as though ancient forces had gathered for a meeting no one was supposed to witness.
The first was a girl with white hair that shimmered faintly, each strand glinting under the light like frost. Her skin was a warm bronze tone, her eyes pale gold — both kind and sharp. She moved like someone accustomed to power.
Next, a boy — young, fiery-haired, with small horns curling from his forehead. His grin came easily, mischievous and oddly endearing, though the red sparks flickering at his fingertips made her wary.
The third was a green-skinned man, tall and broad-shouldered, his long dark hair braided down his back. His eyes gleamed like wet amber, patient and knowing.
Beside him stood another man, almost ethereal — light blue skin, long sapphire hair, and faint, translucent wings folded behind him. The glow of the runes shimmered across his feathers like water.
And finally — Xyren, hood still drawn, but his presence sharper now, as if the shadows themselves bent toward him.
The girl spoke first.
"So, this is the human Lirien has been keeping?"
Her voice was calm but carried an undertone of amusement.
Xyren nodded once. "Yes. This is her."
Aria's breath caught. "Her?" she echoed, half to herself, half to them. "I'm right here, you know."
The white-haired girl turned to her with a faint smile. "Then let's not speak around you. I'm Nina," she said, inclining her head slightly. "The little menace beside me is James."
James grinned, throwing a quick salute. "Part demon, part genius, mostly chaos."
"Mostly chaos," the green-skinned man rumbled, voice deep as stone. "I'm Nico. Don't encourage him."
The winged man gave a graceful nod. "Nike," he introduced simply, his voice smooth as wind. "Guardian of the eastern veins."
Aria blinked, still trying to make sense of what she was seeing. "Guardians? What—who are you people?"
Nina tilted her head. "Guardians of the Veins. The life roots that flow beneath Skyria, linking every kingdom. The same veins that power your Tree of Life in Carfein."
She tried to steady her voice. "And what does that have to do with me?"
James's grin faltered a bit. "Everything, actually."
Xyren finally spoke, his tone controlled, low. "Because Lirien believes the tree reacted to you."
"That's absurd," Aria said, though the words trembled. "I'm just—"
"Human," Nike finished for her. "Exactly. That's what makes it strange."
The candles flickered. The room felt smaller, the air thicker.
Aria crossed her arms, forcing some steadiness into her voice. "You still haven't told me what you want."
James exchanged a glance with Nina. Then, unusually serious, he said, "We're not just guardians."
Aria frowned. "Then what—?"
"We're spies," James said, lowering his voice as if the walls themselves might be listening. "The Shadows of Skyria. We move where the council can't see, where Lirien's guards don't go."
"Spies?" Aria echoed. "On who?"
Nina folded her arms. "On everyone. On the council, the crown, even Lirien himself."
Aria stared. "That doesn't make sense. Lirien brought me here."
Nico's deep voice rumbled softly. "And he hides more than you realize."
Aria's heart stuttered. "What are you saying?"
James's tone dropped lower, no trace of his usual playfulness. "Something's coming. Lirien's planning something with the crown. We don't know what, but it's big. The king's grown weak, and whispers say Lirien's hands are too deep in both loyalty and betrayal."
Nina continued, "We needed someone invisible to the guards. The Quarty sentinels can smell us — they know our presence, even if we're hidden. But humans?" She looked at Aria, her expression unreadable. "Humans don't register. You can walk freely, unnoticed. You can go where even shadows can't."
"So you want me to… spy?"
James shrugged. "You're already in the middle of the web, aren't you? We just need someone who can tug the threads from the inside."
Aria's voice broke a little. "And if I say no?"
Nina gave a faint, knowing smile. "You won't. Because part of you already wants to know the truth."
The silence that followed was heavy, and it wasn't untrue.
Xyren stepped closer, the soft sound of his boots echoing faintly. "Listen carefully, Aria," he said, his tone colder now — commanding, almost protective. "No one can know you were here. Not Sira, not Lirien, no one. Do you understand?"
She hesitated. "Why? You said Lirien—"
"Lirien knows only about the Liberaty Quart," Xyren interrupted. His eyes darkened, something fierce flickering behind them. "That's this chamber. He doesn't know what lies beneath it."
Aria's brows knit. "Beneath it?"
Nina gave a small nod to Xyren.
He exhaled, and then slowly, he waved his hand.
The entire ground trembled. The glowing runes spread out in patterns, circling wider, until the blue and green light met in the center and pulsed — once, twice — and then the world shifted.
The floor beneath them split apart like soft clay, the glow turning into veins of living light that swirled downward. The air filled with a low hum, like the earth itself was waking from sleep.
Aria gasped as the stones rippled underfoot, folding away like pages turning in a book.
"Hold still," Xyren said quietly.
And then the world sank.
The walls melted into light, the candles dimming, the air rippling — and in a breath, the room was gone.
What replaced it took her breath away.
A vast underground chamber stretched before her, its ceiling veined with luminous roots that pulsed faintly like the glow of distant stars. Shelves carved from stone curved around the walls, filled with books, scrolls, and crystal spheres that shimmered with trapped memories. Strange metallic cards floated midair, rearranging themselves into symbols and constellations.
In the center, a massive round table stood — made of living wood, its surface breathing faintly. Around it, empty chairs waited as though for an unseen council.
The scent of ink, metal, and something ancient filled the air.
James grinned. "Welcome, human girl," he said, arms spread dramatically. "To the Room of Shadows."
Nina smiled faintly, her eyes glinting. "This is where truth sleeps — and sometimes wakes."
Aria turned slowly, awe washing through her. "What is this place?"
Nico answered quietly. "Where we watch from the dark."
Nike's wings rustled faintly, their glow dimming as if absorbing the room's light. "And where the first rebellion began."
Xyren's voice, quieter than the rest, reached her like a whisper. "And where it will begin again."
Aria's breath caught. She turned to him — but before she could speak, he stepped back, eyes distant, the faint light reflecting off his dark hair like fragments of a secret.
The hum of the veins pulsed once more, deep and slow, and then the light dimmed around them — as if the earth had decided to hold its breath.
The Room of Shadows settled into stillness.
And Aria knew — she was no longer a guest in Skyria.
She was part of its hidden war.