Chapter Fifteen: A Throne of Shadows

The cries of rebellion echoed through the narrow streets, raw and hungry, a fire waiting to consume everything in its path. Seraphina stood in the heart of it, watching as the people who had once feared her now looked to her for direction. The storm she had promised them was no longer a distant threat—it had begun to stir, dark and unrelenting.

Caius remained at her side, his arms crossed as he observed the ragtag group that had gathered. They were not warriors, not yet. Most were broken, hardened by suffering, their bodies lean from starvation and their hands rough with labour. But their eyes… their eyes burned with something he had not seen in a long time.

"You've done it, Seraphina," he thought to himself, though he dared not say it aloud. "You've given them a reason to fight."

A rustling from the alley drew his attention, and in an instant, his hand was on his blade. The Shadow Hound beside Seraphina growled, baring its glistening fangs. The tension in the air thickened, but Seraphina raised a single hand, silencing the murmurs of alarm.

A woman stepped forward from the darkness, her face partially covered by a tattered hood. Her presence commanded attention—though her body was thin and frail, there was something fierce in her stance.

"You speak of rebellion," the woman said, her voice hoarse but steady. "But words alone won't fill our bellies or keep us from the king's noose. If we stand against him, what do you offer us, Seraphina?"

Seraphina didn't flinch. "I offer you a future."

The woman scoffed. "A future? That is a fool's promise."

Seraphina stepped forward, her shadow stretching unnaturally behind her, flickering as though it had a mind of its own. "No," she said softly. "A fool's promise is believing that if you endure, if you wait long enough, your suffering will end. The truth is, the king does not fear you because you are weak." She looked at the crowd. "He fears you because he knows what you could become."

A murmur rippled through the gathered rebels. The woman's sharp gaze never wavered. "And what is that?"

Seraphina's lips curled into a knowing smile. "A force that cannot be caged."

A gust of wind swept through the streets, carrying with it the distant tolling of the city's bells. Caius stiffened. He knew that sound well.

"The guards," he muttered. "They know something is stirring."

Seraphina tilted her head slightly, listening. Heavy boots striking against stone. The clanking of armour. The city's enforcers were coming.

The rebels looked at each other, some shifting uneasily, others gripping their makeshift weapons tighter. Fear wove itself into their expressions.

Seraphina let out a slow breath, feeling the pulse of something ancient stir beneath her skin. It had been a whisper before, a lingering presence in the back of her mind. But now, it was awake.

She turned to the woman who had questioned her, her eyes burning like embers in the dark. "You asked what I offer?"

The first torches appeared at the street's entrance, the glow bouncing off the steel of the approaching guards.

Seraphina raised her hand. Shadows curled at her fingertips, swirling like ink in water.

"I offer you power."

The guards charged. The rebellion had begun.

The moment the guards charged, chaos erupted in the narrow streets. The rebellion had been a whisper before—an idea, a dream—but now, it had turned into something real, something unstoppable. The first blade clashed against steel, the first scream cut through the air, and just like that, the city of Valmora was bathed in fire and blood.

Seraphina did not hesitate. With a flick of her wrist, the shadows at her feet coiled like living serpents, twisting and snapping as they lunged toward the nearest soldier. He barely had time to scream before the darkness swallowed him whole. The rebels who had once doubted her now watched in awe as she wielded power, unlike anything they had ever seen.

Caius fought beside her, his twin blades flashing under the dim lantern light. He moved like a shadow himself, weaving between enemies with precise, deadly strikes. But even he could feel the shift in the air—the way the darkness around Seraphina pulsed, growing stronger with every enemy that fell before her.

The guards had come expecting to crush a handful of desperate commoners. They had not expected her.

A captain clad in dark armour stepped forward, his sword gleaming with cruel intent. "Seraphina Valtara!" His voice boomed over the battlefield. "You are hereby condemned as a traitor to the crown! Surrender, and you may yet receive mercy."

Seraphina let out a low, humourless laugh. "Mercy?" She took a step forward, and the torches flickered as if the flames themselves feared her presence. "Tell your king that I do not beg for mercy. I deliver it."

With a snap of her fingers, the shadows beneath the captain twisted violently. Tendrils of darkness wrapped around his limbs, yanking him off his feet. He struggled, but the more he fought, the tighter they coiled. Panic flickered across his face.

The rebels, emboldened by the sight of their enemy falling, surged forward. They were no longer fearful citizens. They were warriors, fighting not just for survival but for something greater—a chance to break free from the chains that had bound them for generations.

Buildings burned, their flames licking at the sky, but Seraphina barely noticed. Her vision blurred as something inside her stirred, something ancient, something raw. The more she used her power, the more she felt it awaken. It was no longer a whisper but a storm raging within her.

She could feel it now—something beyond human, something waiting to be fully unleashed. And she was no longer afraid of it.

The captain's struggles weakened as his breath grew ragged. Seraphina stepped closer, watching him with cold, calculating eyes.

"Your king sent you to die for him," she whispered. "And you obeyed like a loyal dog. Tell me… does he deserve your sacrifice?"

The captain's lips parted as if to speak, but before he could, Seraphina tightened her grip, and the shadows dragged him into the void. Silence fell over the battlefield. The remaining guards, seeing their leader fall, hesitated. Some fled. Others dropped their weapons, surrendering to the inevitable.

The rebellion had won the night. But Seraphina knew this was only the beginning. The king would not let this stand. He would come for her, for all of them, with fire and fury. And she would be ready.

She turned to the rebels, her eyes glowing with the power she could no longer deny. "Tonight, we have shown them that we are not weak," she declared, her voice carrying over the dying flames. "But this is only the first battle. The real war begins now."

The crowd roared in response.

Caius stepped beside her, wiping blood from his blade. "You've just declared war against the most powerful man in the kingdom," he murmured. "Are you ready for what comes next?"

Seraphina's lips curved into a smirk.

"Let him come."

And as the night stretched on, the whispers of her name grew louder.

Seraphina Valtara.

The villainess. The shadow queen. The rebellion had begun. And there was no turning back.