Chapter 6: A Throne of Lies
The silence in the Glimmerwood was heavier than any sound. The single, corrupted black feather lay on the glowing moss like a drop of poison in a crystal-clear spring. All eyes were fixed on Corvus, whose face had become a mask of shattered loyalty.
"Theron?" Kaelen's voice was a disbelieving growl. He stood, still in his half-wolf form, chest heaving from the fight. "Your Chieftain is the General?"
"It… it explains everything," Corvus whispered, his wings drooping in despair. "His recent isolation. His strange orders. The way he alone seemed to understand the Rot's movements. He wasn't strategizing against it… he was commanding it."
Riven let out a low, appreciative whistle. "Well, that's a twist worthy of a Kitsune play. The noble, reclusive bird-king is the source of the apocalypse. I'm almost impressed by the audacity." He nudged the feather with his foot. "Also, terribly rude to send a corrupted calling card. The aesthetic is all wrong for this venue."
Astra shot him a look that could freeze fire. "This isn't a game, Riven."
"Oh, but it is, my heart," he purred, though his eyes were deadly serious. "The board just got infinitely more complicated. We can't simply storm the Aethon spires now. We'd be attacking the seat of his power, with his entire tribe as unwitting shields."
The implications crashed down on them. Their plan to unite the tribes lay in tatters. The Aethon were not potential allies; they were a hostile territory controlled by the enemy.
"We must go back," Lykos said, his hand resting on the hilt of his knife. "Warn the Silvermane. Fortify."
"And do what?" Kaelen countered, his frustration boiling over. "Wait for a corrupted Aethon army to descend from the skies? No. We cut off the head of the serpent. Now. While it is wounded from the Fox-Fire."
"The Wolf-Boy has a point," Riven conceded, much to everyone's surprise. "Surprise is our only advantage. Theron won't expect us to dare an assault, especially not after his 'defeat' here. He'll be consolidating his power, turning more of his people. We strike before his new army is fully formed."
The debate was heated, a whirlwind of fear and strategy. Through it all, Astra stared at the feather. Her bond with Kaelen was a storm of protective aggression. Her bond with Riven was a thrilling, dangerous current of strategic calculation. And both were pushing for action.
She was the Heart. The tie-breaker.
"We go," Astra said, her voice quiet but firm, cutting through the argument. "But not as an army. As a dagger. The four of us." She looked at Kaelen, Riven, and Lykos. "We infiltrate the Aethon spires. We find Theron. And we use the Fox-Fire to burn the corruption out of him."
Kaelen's chest swelled with pride. Riven's lips curved into a sharp, approving smile.
"A suicide mission," Corvus stated flatly. "You will die."
"Then you'd better make sure we don't," Astra replied, turning her gaze on him. "You're our guide, Corvus. You know the spires. You know the patrols. You're coming with us."
The Aethon warrior looked like she'd asked him to pluck his own feathers. But after a long, tense moment, he gave a single, grim nod. "For the true Aethon. For my people."
The plan was set. A dagger in the sky.
As they prepared to leave the Glimmerwood, Elder Nari approached Astra, pressing a small, crystalline vial into her hand. It was filled with shimmering, liquid light.
"The Dew of the First Bloom," the old vixen said. "It will mask your scent and spiritual signature for a short time. It will not make you invisible, but you will be… forgettable. To the corrupted senses of the Rot, you may appear as a passing breeze." She fixed Astra with a piercing look. "Use it wisely. And know this, child: the bonds you carry are your greatest strength, but they also make you a brighter beacon in the darkness. He will be waiting for you."
The weight of the mission settled on Astra's shoulders. They were flying into the lion's den, and the lion was a corrupted king who could sense the unique light of her soul.
As they passed back through the Thorn-Wall, now healed and whole, Riven fell into step beside Kaelen.
"So, Wolf-Boy," Riven began, his tone light and teasing. "Once we're in the sky, try not to get airsick. I'd hate for you to disgrace yourself all over those pristine white spires."
Kaelen didn't even look at him. "Focus on your illusions, fox. And try to make them more convincing than the last ones."
"My illusions are flawless," Riven sniffed. "It's the world that often lacks the good taste to appreciate them."
Astra walked behind them, listening to their bickering. It was no longer purely hostile. It was the sound of two powerful predators learning each other's rhythms, testing each other's boundaries. And beneath the barbs, she could feel a grudging respect beginning to form.
It was the most terrifying and hopeful sound she had ever heard