Beneath the Throne

The ride back to Blackridge was silent.

No words were spoken, but the air between them thrummed with unspoken thoughts. Ash sat at the front of the lead transport, eyes vacant, fingers twitching with faint pulses of silver. Since awakening the Second Thread, he hadn't slept. He didn't blink as often. And when he did speak, his voice echoed—like two versions of himself spoke in harmony.

Caleb watched him from behind.

He's changing.

Not just in power, but in presence. Ash didn't move like a scared boy anymore—he moved like something old rediscovering the world through new skin.

Caleb looked to Lena, who rode beside him. Her jaw was tight, her eyes scanning the terrain constantly. She hadn't said much since they left the Rootspire.

"You think he's still in there?" Caleb asked under his breath.

Lena didn't look at him. "I think… that's the wrong question."

"What's the right one?"

She finally turned, her voice cold. "What happens if he's not?"

⸻

Blackridge loomed ahead, carved into the side of the mountain like a wolf's fang—sharp, proud, and ancient.

Caleb hadn't returned here since the night of his exile. The once-mighty fortress was quieter now, stripped of its banners, its watchtowers darkened. With Raith gone and the Hollow defeated, the remaining loyalists had abandoned it for safer ground.

But the halls still remembered.

As they entered, echoes greeted them. Caleb could almost hear his father's voice barking orders, feel the snap of training blades in the old sparring yard. But beneath the memories lurked something darker.

"I never thought I'd return here," he muttered.

Elias, trailing behind, looked around with awe. "This place feels… layered. Like it's built atop older ruins."

Caleb gave a hollow laugh. "Because it is. Every generation added to the bones of the one before. My great-grandfather claimed we were descended from the First Alpha. My father claimed we were chosen."

Ash looked up. "Maybe you were."

Caleb raised an eyebrow. "And what does that mean?"

Ash didn't answer.

Instead, he placed his hand against the stone wall—and the ground responded.

A low rumble echoed beneath their feet. Then a panel in the floor shifted, revealing a hidden staircase spiraling into the depths.

Everyone froze.

"That wasn't there before," Caleb said.

"It was," Ash replied. "You just weren't ready to see it."

Lena gave him a sharp look. "And you are?"

Ash stepped onto the first stair. "We need to go down. The Fifth Shard is waiting."

⸻

The descent was long and silent.

Torches flickered to life as they passed, lit not by flame but a pale blue glow that pulsed with each of Ash's steps. The air grew colder, the walls smoother. Symbols began to appear—etched into the stone in looping script that made Elias's breath hitch.

"These aren't just runes," he whispered. "They're… instructions."

Caleb frowned. "Instructions for what?"

Elias traced a line of text with his fingers. "For binding something. Or hiding it."

Ash stopped at a large iron door, rusted but unbroken. "This is it."

He reached out.

The moment his hand touched the metal, the door hissed and unfolded—not swung open, but unraveled, each piece sliding into the wall like petals retreating from a bloom.

A massive chamber lay beyond.

And in its center, a throne.

⸻

It was carved from obsidian and bone.

High-backed, towering, lined with old blood and ancient symbols. Chains dangled from its arms. At its base, runes pulsed faintly—familiar, yet distorted.

Caleb approached slowly, breath shallow. "I've never seen this before."

Ash stood beside him. "Because you weren't meant to."

Lena examined the edges of the chamber, eyes narrowed. "This isn't a burial site. It's a vault."

Elias bent beside the throne. "The Shard is here. I can feel it."

Caleb stepped onto the dais.

The moment his foot hit the top step, pain lanced through his chest. Images slammed into his mind—his father, screaming in rage; his mother's death; the night the Hollow marked him.

He staggered, gasping.

Ash caught him. "You're connected to it."

"To the Shard?" Caleb asked, teeth clenched.

"No," Ash said. "To what it binds."

Elias froze. "You don't mean…"

Ash nodded. "The Guardian."

Caleb's skin turned cold. "There's something under this?"

Ash's voice dropped to a whisper. "There was."

⸻

The ground cracked.

A pulse of black and gold energy erupted from beneath the throne. The floor shattered, revealing a void beneath—a chasm of swirling mist and shadow. From within it came a low, guttural sound. Breathing. Awakening.

Elias grabbed Lena's arm. "We need to move."

But Ash didn't run.

He stepped toward the edge and spoke in a language none of them understood. The mist rippled in response. Then, from the void, something rose.

It wasn't monstrous in size. It didn't roar. It didn't need to.

It was a figure—humanoid, cloaked in shadows, with antlers carved from bone and a face that shifted like water. Its eyes opened… and they were Ash's.

Caleb raised his blade.

Ash held up a hand. "Don't."

The figure spoke in two voices—Ash's and something else.

"I am the Echo Within."

"I am what was bound here to protect the Fifth Shard."

"And now… I remember."

⸻

The chamber trembled as it stepped forward.

Caleb moved between it and Ash. "If you touch him, I swear—"

The Echo raised a hand.

"Peace, Caleb Thorn. You are not the enemy."

Elias stepped forward cautiously. "Then what are you?"

"I am a remnant. A vessel born from the Song's reflection. I was created to keep the Fifth Shard hidden—until the day the True Bearer came."

Ash stared. "That's me."

The Echo nodded. "You are more than the Bearer. You are the Bridge."

Lena's hand hovered over her blade. "And what does that mean?"

The Echo turned to her. "When the time comes, he must decide—seal the Fold and silence the Song… or sing it anew and reshape the world."

Elias stepped forward. "But what about the Fifth Shard? Can we take it?"

The Echo looked toward the throne.

"It rests beneath the seat. But know this—removing it breaks the final lock."

Caleb's jaw clenched. "You mean it opens the gate."

The Echo nodded. "And it will not close again."

⸻

Ash stood before the throne, hand outstretched.

Lena moved to his side. "If you do this… you change everything."

Ash looked at her, eyes shimmering. "It's already changing."

He knelt.

Placed his palm on the base.

And pulled.

The stone groaned.

The room screamed.

And the Fifth Shard rose—glowing, humming, singing in a pitch only Ash could hear.

But something else rose with it.

The Echo collapsed, vanishing into ash.

And from the void below came a new sound—

A heartbeat.

Deep.

Terrible.

Awake.

Ash fell backward, clutching the shard to his chest.

"I saw it," he gasped. "The gate. The others. They're moving."

Caleb caught him. "What others?"

Ash looked up, eyes wide with fear.

"The Woken were just the beginning."

⸻

Far away, in a forest forgotten by maps, a figure wrapped in bone and silk knelt before a cracked altar.

As the Fifth Shard awoke, so did she.

And she smiled.