Echoes of a Broken Throne

TALE 02

You sigh deeply as you walk along the sidewalk. The sun has already set, casting an orange hue across the sky.

Rush hour has started to subside, which feels oddly quiet for a time when people are usually heading home.

Your thoughts are all over the place.

Your coworkers have been keeping an eye on you lately—especially because you’ve been so… unfocused.

Chloe, your closest coworker, has practically stayed by your side all day, making sure you don’t drift off into whatever is going on inside your head.

As you pass a dark alley between buildings, a sudden chill runs beneath your skin.

You stop.

Your feet feel glued to the ground.

The sounds of the street—the traffic, the chatter—begin to fade.

Your eyes are drawn to the darkness.

Locked.

Something is there.

You can feel it.

A whisper curls through the air, faint and trembling.

“Please… help us…”

Your breath catches.

“Why aren’t you helping us…? You were supposed to be our key… to win this war…”

The voice echoes, overlapping with itself.

Distorted.

Desperate.

And then—

A shadowy hand shoots out from the darkness.

It wraps tightly around your wrist.

“What the—?!”

You yelp, panic surging through you.

“Help! Help me!”

You struggle, digging your heels into the ground as the grip tightens, dragging you closer to the alley.

Your fingers scrape against the wall as you try to hold on.

“No—!”

No one hears you.

No one turns.

The world beyond the alley feels… distant.

Like it’s no longer connected to you.

Just as your strength begins to falter—

A sharp gust of wind slices through the darkness.

The shadowy hand jerks violently—

and releases you.

You fall hard onto the ground, gasping.

A figure stands between you and the alley, his movements swift and precise. The wind gathers around him, striking again and again, cutting through the writhing shadows.

The alley lets out a sound—

something between a shriek and a hiss—

before retreating deeper into darkness.

Another man rushes to your side, helping you sit up.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice gentle as his eyes scan you for injuries. “Did it hurt you?”

“Y-yeah… I think so,” you reply, your voice shaking.

A third man approaches, his expression tense.

“They’ve started targeting civilians,” he says coldly, glancing toward the alley. “It seems they’ve begun to move. They must know something is wrong.”

“Yeah…” the first man mutters. “We should report this to Lucien. At least we managed to save her.”

You blink, trying to process everything.

Before you can speak—

“Then erase her memory.”

The words cut through the air sharply.

The second man steps forward, his gaze fixed on you.

“We can’t be seen by her.”

“Julian,” the first man snaps, stepping in front of you slightly, “it’s against our rules to erase a civilian’s memory.”

“Jacob, we’ve talked about this,” Julian replies, his tone firm. “Even Lucien allowed it.”

“No.” Jacob shakes his head. “I won’t do it.”

He shifts, placing himself more clearly between you and Julian.

Protective.

You stare at them for a moment before finally speaking.

“…You know I’m still here, right?”

Julian glances at you.

“Yes,” he says dryly. “And I think erasing your memory of this incident would be a wise choice.”

You frown.

“And I think that’s a terrible idea.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“Who’s to say you won’t erase more than you’re supposed to?” you continue. “What if you take the whole day? Or more?”

Julian scoffs.

“You should be grateful. We just saved your life.”

Before you can respond, another figure steps out from what looks like a doorway made of shadows.

“There you are,” he says calmly. “I’ve been looking for you two. Lucien wants you back.”

His gaze shifts to you.

“What happened here?”

“Tch. I’ll explain later,” Julian mutters, already moving toward the shadowed doorway.

Jacob turns back to you, offering an apologetic smile.

“Sorry about him. He’s… been a little on edge lately. Don’t take it to heart.”

You nod slightly.

“I can see that.” You take a breath. “But… thank you. I don’t know what that thing was.”

You hesitate, then ask:

“…Can you tell me what it was?”

Jacob falters.

“Uh…”

“Jacob. Let’s go.”

The third man’s voice is firm.

Jacob sighs softly.

“Sorry. I have to go. Maybe… we’ll meet again.”

He steps backward into the shadowed doorway.

The third man lingers for a second longer, his eyes studying you—sharp, observant.

Then he gives a small, polite nod before following.

The doorway closes.

And just like that—

You gasp.

Air rushes back into your lungs.

The sounds of the street return all at once—cars passing, people talking, the wind brushing against your skin.

Everything is normal again.

Like nothing ever happened.

You stand there, frozen.

“…What… was that?”

Your voice barely comes out.

No answer follows.

Only the steady noise of the world continuing on without you.

You glance at the alley one last time.

It’s empty.

Just a normal alley.

…Isn’t it?

-------------------------------------

“I’m home,” you say as soon as you step into your apartment.

Exhaustion clings to your face as you slip off your heels and change into your slippers.

“Welcome home. You’re home pretty late.”

Zoe’s voice comes from the living room. She turns to look at you—

then immediately grimaces.

“Oh my God. You look absolutely hideous.”

“Don’t… just—shush,” you mumble tiredly, dropping onto the couch beside her.

You sink into it like your body’s finally giving up.

“Have you been here the whole time?”

“Nah, I just got here a few minutes ago,” Zoe replies, watching you more closely now.

Her expression shifts from teasing… to concerned.

“What happened? Did you get robbed or something?”

“You could say that,” you mutter, staring blankly ahead. “But even I don’t really know what just happened.”

Zoe frowns.

“What do you mean? You’re the one who experienced it.”

“Yeah, and that’s exactly why you wouldn’t understand even if I tried to explain it,” you reply, pressing your fingers against your temple.

Your head still feels heavy.

“On my way home… I heard something. In an alley.”

Zoe doesn’t interrupt this time.

She just listens.

“I thought it was someone asking for help,” you continue quietly. “But it wasn’t… normal.”

You swallow.

“There was something there. Something that shouldn’t exist. It almost—”

You stop.

Even saying it feels ridiculous.

“It almost dragged me in,” you finish, your voice lower now. “Like… into nothing.”

Zoe blinks at you.

Once.

Twice.

“And then?” she asks carefully.

“…Then someone showed up,” you say. “Out of nowhere.”

Your brows furrow slightly as you try to piece it together.

“They moved too fast. Way too fast. And the way they fought it—”

You hesitate.

“…Zoe, I think they used magic.”

Silence.

Zoe stares at you.

Somewhere between concerned… and very confused.

“…Yeah,” she says slowly. “You’re definitely not okay.”

You huff weakly, leaning back against the couch.

“Tell me about it. My brain feels like it keeps resetting or something.”

You let out a quiet breath.

“I barely remember what I even did at work today. Chloe had to keep me in check the whole time.”

Zoe’s expression softens.

“Okay… now I’m actually worried,” she mutters. “You seriously need a break.”

She nudges your arm lightly.

“Let’s go somewhere this weekend. Camping, maybe? Or just… anywhere that’s not here.”

You shake your head.

“Thanks, but I can’t. I’ve got meetings scheduled all week.”

Your voice comes out softer now, drained.

A pause settles between you.

“…Did you eat?” you ask after a moment. “Or did you just come here to judge my face?”

Zoe snorts.

“I ordered pizza. And mac and cheese. Your favorite.”

You let out a small breath that almost feels like relief.

“Good.”

You push yourself up from the couch, your body protesting the movement.

“I’m going to shower first… then eat… and try to forget whatever the hell today was.”

Zoe watches you as you drag yourself toward the bathroom.

“…Hey,” she calls out.

You pause slightly, glancing back.

“If you’re serious about what you saw,” she says, quieter now, “then don’t just brush it off, okay?”

You hesitate.

Just for a second.

“…Yeah,” you murmur.

But you’re not sure if you mean it.

You turn away and continue toward the bathroom, your steps slow and heavy.

Because no matter how much you want to forget—

something about it…

still doesn’t feel over.

--------------------------

You step out of the bathroom, warmth from the shower still clinging to your skin.

The apartment feels normal again.

Grounded.

Zoe is back on the couch, scrolling through her phone like nothing ever happened.

“Finally,” she mutters. “I was about to eat everything.”

You let out a small breath.

Good.

She’s still here.

“Told you not to,” you mumble, dropping down beside her.

She nudges the food toward you.

“Eat first. You look like you’re about to pass out.”

You don’t argue.

The first bite helps more than you expect.

Warm. Familiar.

Real.

Maybe that’s all today was.

Just stress.

Just your mind messing with you.

You lean back slightly, exhaling.

“…Yeah. I’m fine.”

Zoe glances at you.

“…You sure?”

You nod.

This time, it almost feels true.

“Just tired,” you say. “I’ll sleep it off.”

She watches you for a moment longer, then sighs.

“Alright. But if you die in your sleep, I’m not explaining that to your boss.”

You huff softly.

“Noted.”

The rest of the night passes quietly.

And for the first time since morning—

your mind begins to settle.

Sleep comes quickly.

Too quickly.

Darkness takes you before you can even notice it.

At first, it’s peaceful.

Empty.

Then—

A sound.

Faint.

Distant.

“…You’re late…”

Your brows knit slightly.

Even in sleep, something feels wrong.

“…Why are you late…?”

The voice overlaps with another.

And another.

Familiar.

Too familiar.

Your chest tightens.

“No… I—”

Your voice doesn’t come out.

Your body doesn’t move.

You’re not in your room anymore.

You’re standing—

Somewhere else.

The air is thick.

Heavy.

Burning.

And in front of you—

Figures.

Not clear.

Not whole.

But waiting.

“…You were supposed to come back to us…”

Your breath stutters.

“…Why did you leave us…?”

The words feel like they’re being pressed directly into your chest.

“…You are ours…”

A hand reaches toward you.

Not from darkness this time—

but from something far worse.

Memory.

You try to step back—

But your feet won’t move.

“…You don’t belong there…”

The sky above shifts.

And slowly—

something begins to swallow the light.

Your eyes widen.

No.

Not again.

“…Come back.”

The hand is closer now.

“…Before it’s too late.”

It almost touches you—

And suddenly—

You wake up.

Gasping.

Your room.

Your bed.

Your ceiling.

Normal.

Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you sit there in the dark.

“…Just a dream…”

But your voice shakes.

Because this time—

you’re not sure that’s true.

-----------------