Chapter 7: The Phantom Herald

The battlefield went into a startled hush as the earthquake under the outer gates stopped and was replaced by a horrible stillness. Every eye, friend or enemy, turned for a time toward the rift from which a phantom form had emerged.

The apparition floated above the broken ground, its shape described in a brilliant, changing brightness. Its voice sounded out loud and resonant, yet its face was buried by a silvery mist cloak.

"The reckoning only just started."

As Aurelia approached, her heart beat and her eyes fixed on the enigmatic herald. The brilliant man floated nearer, its presence both hypnotic and threatening. The turmoil of the struggle outside the outer gates vanished from importance at that instant as the old portent presently before them took front stage.

"Who are you?"

Aurelia insisted, her voice strong even if her chest trembled with anxiety. Her words floated over the field as soldiers—both allies and enemies stopped in their fight to pay attention.

The ethereal apparition turned its head, as if thinking about her inquiry with timeless knowledge. The voice of the figure gradually acquired a terrible slant:

"I neither master nor servant of mortal destiny. I am the echo of what was and the guide of what has to be. I have come to bring a message—a prophesy etched in the chronicles of time sealed by the heritage of those who ventured against fate.

A cool breeze blew over the outer gates, rippling the assembled lines and flinging covenant flags across. Calen pulled his sword impulsively, his gaze never leaving the ghost. He snarled, "Speak clearly." "What truth do you convey, and how does it influence our struggle?"

For a long moment, the specter's shape shimmered like living moonlight, then turned its uncanny eye back to Aurelia. "Treachery has tried your unity," the apparition said. "Long considered to be a whisper on the wind, the secret order has braided its power well down your ranks.

Still, the strands of fate draw you toward a crossroads—a point where truth and sacrifice have to coexist—even in the middle of conflict.

The Sigil's combined energies throbbing in reaction to the phantom's presence tightened Aurelia's hold on the medallion. "We have found evidence of betrayal," she murmured gently, remembering the terrible scroll and the list of names from the fortress. Still, what more you would like to expose?

Whose actual successor you are referring to—and what cost will we have to pay to heal the covenant?

The ethereal creature waved a ghostly hand, and images started to flicker about it. The battleground changed briefly before their eyes. Aurelia saw in the vision a great tapestry of entwining threads—a living blueprint of history and destiny.

Among the many threads, one dazzling thread shone with a radiance like her own aura. That thread spun through images of ancient rites, heroic sacrifices, and the somber crowning of a lost ruler as the vision darkened. Gradually, Queen Elinora's picture surfaced, her eyes kind and determined, as if reaching across time.

The voice of the ghost came again, charged with both promise and grief:

"The real heir is in the spirit that dares to bring the dispersed covenant relatives together, not just in blood. Aurelia, in you, the light of a queen gone from memory. But know this: the secret order deliberately sow's strife meant to ruin this very heritage. You can only free the links that tie you by means of sacrifice and relentless solidarity.

Grieving for the loss of innocence, driven to uphold the heritage handed to her, and deeply fearing what the future could contain, Aurelia experienced an extreme range of emotions. Her voice quivering but steady, she said, "Are you saying... that I am the key?"

The phantom tilted its head gently. "You are the center around which destiny pivots. Your heart bears the inheritance of Queen Elinora; the mark of the covenant lays upon your soul. But you have to find the last truth buried deep in the archives and face the traitors who have thrown shadows over your family in order to bring balance.

A whisper among the gathered guards as the words of the ghost sunk in. Calen's eyes flashed with a combination of protective fury and defiance. "then we have little time to waste," he remarked, speaking to the assembled defenders as well as Aurelia.

"Our own people are split as our adversary's strain at the gates. We have to act right now; otherwise, the secret order will declare triumph.

The phantom's eyes turned slowly to the horizon, where once again the lines of the enemy started to push forward. "The reckoning approaches with the break of the next cycle," it said gravely. "Suffering is all around the road ahead. You can resist the approaching darkness only by accepting the truth—however bitter—and uniting around a shared goal.

At that, the light of the spectral form became stronger for a split second before diminishing as if it were pulling back into the ether. "Remember," it said in a faint whisper, "the genuine successor must rise when the skies cry and the earth shakes. Should you be brave enough to pay its cost, the legacy belongs to you.

Then the ghost started to disintegrate, its shape strewn like stardust in the air, as abruptly as it had appeared. Though the field was once again alive with the sounds of clashing steel and war cries, those who had heard its message still carried a great quiet within them.

Aurelia stood still, weight of the image absorbed. Her head whirled with queries: Who was this enigmatic herald? Was it a real messenger of the vanished queen or just a mirror of old wisdom? And what really meant for her to be the "true heir" of the covenant?

Calen's words sliced through her dream behind her. "Aurelia, we cannot wait," he said. "The enemy assembles once again at the gate. We have to organize our army and be ready for the next attack.

Rising her power, Aurelia bowed and turned to meet her gathered comrades. "Listen well," she said, her voice sounding with fresh might.

"We have been given a vision, a message that validates our strongest hope and most terrible anxieties. From inside, our togetherness has been tested; the treachery of the unseen order is right at our center. But in this instant I also understand how the heritage of Queen Elinora entwines our fate.

I have been selected to guide us into the next cycle, to heal what has been broken; I am not the successor by accident.

Her words connected with truth and will, thus a silence descended over the audience. Emeric forward, his face firm. "then let us start to heal the damaged relationships. We shall look for those whose allegiance wavers and remind everybody of our holy responsibility to the covenant.

Quietly, Seraphin said, "We also have to be ready for the next attack. Our adversaries outside are strong, and the unseen order might attack once again at any time. Our defenses have to be as uncompromising as the heritage we guard.

Aurelia and her closest friends rushed to re-group with the commanders at the outer gates, the ghostly message resonating in their hearts.

The enemy lines pushed in, black shadows against a blood-red sky, as the troops from the northern provinces had rallied. The guardians' fresh determination set up a strategic debate on how best to defend their places and attack the core of the power of the secret order.

Maps of the realm and old archive schematics were laid out over a rough-hewn table in a makeshift war room put up within a fortified tower near the gates. Huddled together, Calen, Emeric, and many high-ranking officials plotted the following actions with hushed, resolute voices.

Standing before the maps, Aurelia followed a finger trail. "We have noted a number of places where the symbols of the hidden order have been discovered," she said These sites have to be checked and, if needed, cleaned of deceit. We can restore the integrity of the covenant only by recovering every damaged node.

"And what of the enemy's assault?" questioned one of the cops in a sharp voice. They exert great effort right at our front. How can we hold them off while we hunt internal betrayal?

Aurelia fixed her eyes on him deliberately. "Our power comes from our oneness. While smaller, elite teams—made of individuals who stick to the covenant—will enter the suspicious regions, we will keep the line here. Before the hidden order can split us any further, we have to reveal it.

Our joint efforts will drive out internal as well as outside enemies.

Aurelia sought a moment of privacy next to one of the battlements while instructions were distributed and soldiers ready for their designated roles. Her mind still whirled with the traces of the phantom's message, mixing with distant combat cries.

She closed her eyes and remembered the terrible promise of Queen Elinora as well as the vision of the tapestry—the shining thread pointing to her as the real successor. During that still moment, she quietly vowed:

I will gather our people whatever of cost. I will reveal the traitors and guide us into the brightness of a fresh dawn when our bond is restored and unbroken.

A messenger riding hard across the courtyard came with pale face from effort. Breathlessly approaching Aurelia, he unfolded a scroll with shaky hands.

"My lady, word from the eastern archives: a gathering of traitors in the ancient ruins of Dagon's Sanctum claims to have uncovered further evidence of the hidden order's influence—an emissary from a distant outpost claims to have uncovered."

Aurelia's eyes darkened. Then we have to send a scouting team right away. Long veiled in mystery, these ruins Should the secret order be employing them as a staging ground, we must allow their influence to flourish unrestrained.

Calen, who had joined her at that point, gently rested her shoulder under his calming palm. We won't fall short. Our unity today shall be our shield; our will the sword cutting through dishonesty.

As the second phase of the war gained steam, the sun sank lower over the horizon and created lengthy shadows across the battlefield. The faithful guardians—now supported by fresh will—formed a defensive ring around the outer gates while the reinforcements positioned themselves. Their hearts echoing the promise of the covenant, they prepared for the next attack by the adversary.

High above the conflict, Aurelia's consciousness kept returning the last words of the ethereal figure:

"The real heir must rise when the heavens weep and the earth shakes."

It was a summons to destiny—a cry to arms. And Aurelia raised her head, her eyes ablaze with conviction, as the far-off rumbling of enemy drums started once again.

 "Let this reckoning be our rebirth," she said, her voice reaching over the gathered fighters. "We shall reconstruct the legacy with honesty and sacrifice for every betrayal, every broken confidence. The covenant will live and we, its guardians, will be its relentless lighthouse.

A brief, strong earthquake shook the ground at the foot of the outer gates at that explosive instant when the enemy rushed forward and the first arrows clouded the heavens. From the expanding crack, a signal that was both a warning and a promise burst—blinding brightness. Among the anarchy, a single person wearing whirling dust and brilliant energy emerged.

Who was this fresh addition? And what secret would this spectacular phenomenon expose about the ultimate strategy of the hidden order?