The first strike came without banners.
No horns of war. No armies on the march.
It began with whispers—knives in the dark, poison in goblets, kings choking on their own blood before dawn. The Silent War had begun.
In the borderlands of Aethros, torches flickered one last time before vanishing into endless night. The governor's palace collapsed in fire after an assassin, cloaked in shadow, slipped through his bedchamber. His body was found blackened, lips foaming venom, eyes staring wide at nothing. The last scream had etched itself into the walls, carved like a warning for those who would sleep too long.
In Kairas, wolves howled through the streets before sunrise. Families were torn apart, clawed to ribbons, as if Lyra's hatred had learned flesh. Survivors swore the wolves' eyes burned silver—not natural light, but venom threaded with shadow.
No army had marched. No battle had been declared. Yet already the realms trembled. Velkar and Lyra had unleashed a war that did not need spears or banners.
---
Selene listened to reports in silence, her face shadowed by flickering fire. Scrolls lay unfurled before her—names of the dead inked in haste, lists of those betrayed by whispers.
"They strike everywhere at once," Kael, commander of the eastern guard, said. Dust streaked his armor, exhaustion lacing his voice. "We cannot defend every city, every village. They do not fight as soldiers, my queen. They strike as shadows, as venom. Already your allies question the pact."
The Beast stood at the far end of the chamber, massive arms crossed, twin blades leaning against his shoulders. His eyes burned like coals, coiled with fury.
"Then let us burn the whispers from the world," he growled. "If Velkar sends assassins, I'll send him his daughter's head in reply."
Selene raised a hand. "No."
The single word sliced through the room.
The Beast's claws flexed, shadows writhing around his form. "You would have us sit idle while your allies bleed?"
"I would have us survive long enough to fight the true war," Selene said, her voice sharp, unwavering. "If we strike blindly, we fall into their design. Velkar wants rage. He wants recklessness. We give him neither."
Kael lowered his gaze. "Forgive me, my queen, but whispers spread. Some say your child is cursed."
The chamber stilled.
Selene's hand tightened around the edge of the table. "Who dares?"
Kael's words trembled. "It spreads quietly. They see the boy's eyes—flame and shadow entwined. Some call him savior, but others… call him the end."
The Beast growled, low and dangerous. "Name them. And I will silence every tongue."
Selene turned toward the cradle. Her son slept, small and peaceful. Shadows coiled around him like living wards, flickering with threads of fire and gold.
"No," she whispered. "He is not a curse. He is the answer."
Yet even as she spoke, doubt lingered, heavy as ash.
---
Far beneath the Venom Throne, Lyra laughed.
Her daughter stood at her side, taller now, a predator in miniature, silver eyes gleaming. She wore a crown of wolfbone, dark hair falling like ink over her shoulders. Nyla—the child of venom, the heir of wolves.
Velkar rose from his shadow-forged seat, grin sharp as broken glass. "The Silent War spreads. The weak crumble. Soon they will kneel without our intervention."
Nyla's lips curved. "They will kneel to me, Father. Not you."
Her voice was both frost and fire, too old for her years. Even Velkar paused, studying the child he had bred for conquest. Lyra smiled, brushing her hand through Nyla's hair.
"She is venom," Lyra purred. "And venom needs no permission to spread."
---
Days bled into nights. The Silent War deepened.
Messengers vanished along empty roads. Crops withered where wolves prowled unseen. Banners burned in courts untouched by armies, struck by betrayal and fear.
Selene's council fractured.
In the northern stronghold of Dravos, Lord Tyron broke his oath after his son was found hanging from a tree, venom dripping from his mouth. In the west, Queen Ilaria wept as her court was slaughtered. Her final words whispered of Nyla in her dreams, silver eyes promising ruin.
One by one, Selene's fragile alliance toppled.
Each night, the Beast pressed her. "Enough waiting. Enough whispers. Give me leave, and I will drown Mars in their blood."
Selene shook her head, though the weight of the choice pressed on her chest. "You cannot burn a shadow. We fight them with light."
Her words carried strength—until her son began to speak.
Though still an infant, his voice held clarity that froze her. Not babbles, but words. Names and truths long forgotten. When she held him close, he whispered:
"They are already inside."
Selene froze. "Who?"
The boy closed his golden eyes, drifting back to sleep as if nothing had been said.
---
The warning came too late.
On the third night of blood moons, Selene awoke to steel clashing in her halls. Screams tore through the fortress. The Beast was already on his feet, blades drawn, shadows rippling like a storm.
"Stay with the child," he barked, vanishing into the corridor with the roar of a predator.
Selene rushed to the cradle. Her son's golden eyes were wide, calm and knowing.
"They are here," he whispered.
The doors burst widely open.
Guards stumbled in—not to defend, but to strike. Veins blackened, eyes glinting with venom. Wolves howled somewhere deep in the halls, their voices echoing like death itself.
Selene's flames sparked at her fingertips.
The Silent War had breached her walls.
And the venom had taken root inside her house.
---
Preview;
Selene's gaze fell to her son. His golden eyes met hers, unflinching, as if he already understood the war that had begun and the destiny he must claim.
The fortress burned around them, shadows clawing, whispers rising.
Outside, Nyla's venom-spread would not wait.
And inside, a child who was both flame and shadow—and now, prophecy itself—was learning to speak the language of war.
The Silent War had begun.
And the first blood would not be the last.