CHAPTER 20: Shadows and Betrayal
574 Words
The capital mourned in silence.
Smoke still lingered in the air from burned armor and shattered stone. The courtyard that once rang with laughter now echoed only with footsteps and whispered prayers. Soldiers cleaned blood from blades. Medics moved from body to body, counting the living and the dead.
May stood near the outer wall, arms wrapped around herself.
She couldn’t stop thinking about the shadows.
The way they had risen like something alive. The way they obeyed Zayn without hesitation.
People stared now.
Not openly—but enough.
Some soldiers bowed deeper when Zayn passed. Others stepped back, hands tightening around weapons out of instinct rather than reason. Fear hid behind respect, and suspicion bled through both.
Inside the council hall, tension cracked the air.
“This changes everything,” one advisor muttered.
“The monsters retreated because of him,” another said. “Or because of what he is.”
Zayn stood at the center of the room, silent, unreadable.
The Realm King rose from his throne, his expression grave.
“Enough,” he said.
The hall stilled.
“You deserve the truth,” the king continued, a voice heavy with age and regret. “And it should have been spoken long ago.”
He turned toward Zayn.
“This man was not merely adopted by the Old Third. Zayn is the son of the one who became Kaelthorn… and a descendant of the Dark Spirit bloodline.”
Gasps rippled through the hall.
May’s breath caught.
“He did not choose this inheritance,” the king added sharply, eyes sweeping the room. “Nor has he ever betrayed this realm. Everything he has done—every battle, every sacrifice—was to protect us.”
Silence followed.
Then fear crept back in quietly.
Zayn felt it in the way people avoided his eyes. Along the way, the truth settled uneasily, like a blade resting too close to skin.
May took a step forward.
“I don’t care where his power comes from,” she said firmly. “He saved lives. Mine included.”
Some nodded. Others did not.
The meeting ended without resolution.
Trust had cracked—but it had not yet shattered.
Elsewhere in the castle…
A man smiled faintly.
_______________________________________
The financial advisor moved through the castle kitchens with practiced ease.
No one questioned him. No one ever did.
He was respected. Trusted. Invisible.
The scent of roasted meat and herbs filled the air as chefs prepared the evening meal. He stopped beside one, leaning in casually.
“The commander’s tray,” he said calmly, pressing a small vial into the chef’s palm. “A strengthening tonic. The king insists.”
The chef hesitated. “I wasn’t informed—”
“You were,” the advisor replied smoothly, a smile never reaching his eyes. “Through me.”
The vial was small. Clear. Harmless-looking.
The chef nodded, slipping it away without another word.
The advisor turned, walking out of the kitchens unhurried.
In the shadows of a quiet corridor, he paused.
Kneel, Kaelthorn’s voice whispered in his mind.
The man did—just slightly, head bowing in reverence no one could see.
“The strongest is the greatest threat,” he murmured. “And threats must be removed.”
Far above, Zayn sat alone at the edge of his bed, exhaustion weighing on his bones.
He did not see the danger approaching.
And the poison waited patiently to be served.
- Writer
