CHAPTER 26: The Ruler of Thandor

"Even the leaves whisper warnings in a forest that forgets the sun."

The days that followed were surprisingly kind.

After parting ways with Elira's family, the group journeyed deeper into the thickets of the northern wilds, a forest so ancient that even the birds sang old songs. Naru bounded silently ahead of them, ever alert, ever calm, occasionally halting to telepathically warn of slippery moss, hidden holes, or strange sounds beneath the canopy.

Ashix walked at the front, still bearing faint lines from the injuries he had sustained in the dream. Though the pain had faded, a dull pressure remained—like a shadow lingering behind his ribs. He didn't speak much about it, and neither Elira nor Marini pressed further. The memory of Kael Thorne's voice and the cryptic seal still haunted him.

Elira seemed lighter in spirit here. Maybe it was the echoes of joy from her days with the family, or maybe it was something about the way the forest light dappled on her shoulders. She often hummed to herself, something faint and melodic—songs of her people, Ashix guessed.

Marini, though quieter, had not withdrawn. She offered witty remarks when the mood allowed, gathered herbs for their meals, and occasionally challenged Ashix to races across short distances when the path ahead was clear. They laughed again. For a while, things felt… normal.

But normal is often a breath before the storm.

It happened on the fifth day.

They had camped near a shallow stream the night before, and dawn had broken golden across the horizon. Birds chirped above, and the mist had only just begun to lift when Ashix noticed something strange—too much stillness. Naru had stiffened beside him, ears twitching as though catching a sound no one else could.

"Something is wrong," came Naru's voice into all their minds.

Ashix's hand instinctively moved to the hilt of his blade. "How many?"

"Too many."

But it was too late. The trap had already closed.

From the thick brush, masked figures burst forth—men clad in dark crimson cloaks marked with Kael Thorne's sigil. Their movements were silent, efficient, and overwhelming. Before Ashix could ignite his light, something cold and metallic struck his temple.

He collapsed.

— — —

When he woke, the light was dim and swaying, like fire filtered through a cloth. His hands were bound, and his ankles too. Stone walls surrounded him, ancient and moss-covered. The air stank of iron and incense.

He groaned as he sat up.

Chains clinked somewhere near.

"Elira?" he called out, voice hoarse.

"Here," came her voice, from the far end of the cell. "They didn't hurt me. Just dragged me in."

"And Marini?"

"I'm here too," Marini answered, seated against the wall, her hair tangled and her lip slightly cut. "Same treatment."

Ashix took a shaky breath. "Where are we?"

Before anyone could answer, the thick wooden door creaked open.

A man stepped through.

He wore regal robes trimmed with silver and deep crimson. A black crown sat on his brow—crafted not from gold, but some darkened metal that pulsed with unnatural energy. His eyes were a pale blue, almost glowing in the dimness. His presence was commanding, but it was the insignia on his robe—Kael Thorne's burning star—that sent a chill through Ashix's spine.

"I am King Veyon," the man said with slow authority. "Ruler of Thandor. Servant of the Flame."

He stepped forward, eyes locked on Ashix. "And you… you are the Lightborn."

Ashix said nothing.

Veyon turned to Elira and Marini. "You travel with dangerous company. Do you even know what he is?" His voice was smooth, yet laced with a subtle venom.

Marini raised her chin. "We know enough."

"Enough to die for him?" Veyon asked, amused. "Interesting."

He gestured, and guards entered—each bearing spears tipped with obsidian blades.

Ashix tried to rise, but a firm boot pressed him down.

"You carry something ancient inside you," Veyon murmured. "Something Kael wishes broken… or used. And my duty is to see that purpose fulfilled."

Elira stepped forward, her eyes ablaze. "You speak of duty as if it's noble. You serve a tyrant who burns kingdoms and corrupts light."

Veyon chuckled, soft and dry. "History is written by those who survive, child. And you will soon learn that resistance is a luxury no one here can afford."

He turned and left without another word. The door slammed shut behind him.

Ashix sat there, heart pounding.

"What do you think he meant by… breaking the light?" Marini whispered.

"I don't know," Ashix muttered. "But I fear we're running out of time."

— — —

Later that night, Naru appeared through a small crack in the ceiling, having shrunk to his smallest possible form—a glowing silver creature no bigger than a housecat. He sent waves of calm into Ashix's mind as he nudged the ropes, burning them gently with concentrated light.

"Hold still."

Within moments, Ashix's bindings gave way.

He helped the girls with theirs. Their cell had no windows, just thick walls and a single heavy door.

"There is a corridor to the west," Naru said, nose twitching. "Guarded… but not impossible to pass."

Ashix stood, steadying himself. "We fight our way out if we must. But we cannot let Kael—or his servant—keep us caged."

Elira grinned. "It's about time."

Marini nodded, though her eyes flickered, conflicted. She clenched her fists and exhaled. "Let's move."

And so, under the moonless sky, three warriors and a whispering beast prepared to carve a path through the belly of the beast.

The night had teeth, but so did they.