Chapter 213 - Demon Council ( Part 3 )

The first stage of the ritual had already started.

The skies above Demon Continent were changing.

The black clouds consumed the stars and ate them whole until there was no star in the sky anymore, and the only thing visible above was just an endless emptiness of dark void. Even the moon lost its luster and the silvery light was having hard time breaking through the veil of darkness. The ancient formations of demons stirred under the surface of the ground – the circles of power that have laid dormant for a thousand years started to pulse with the sickening crimson glow. The air was trembling with anticipation, as if the whole world knew that something was about to happen.

And deep inside Demon Citadel, five Legendary Divine Marks were burning inside Morgatha's ritual chamber.

Five columns of divine light - gold, blue, red, silver and violet – emanated from the five prisoners, bound and restrained, whose power flowed through the ancient circle of power. The symbols on the walls were glowing brighter than ever, and the chains that were hanging from the ceiling were swaying as if possessed by the restless spirits.

But it wasn't enough.

There were two circles that still needed to be filled.

Two platforms were left empty, their chains unused, their magic circles dead.

Two Legendary Divine Marks were yet to appear.

Morgatha stood in front of a massive black crystal.

It was rising from the ground like the monument of darkness – the obsidian shard that was even bigger than Draven himself. The surface of the crystal was perfectly polished like glass, but the images that were flickering inside it were looking like memories captured within the stone.

They showed the cities, kingdoms, battlefields, hunters, knights and mages. Thousands of faces appeared and disappeared as the targets for their power.

Lokiar stood by her side. Lord of Illusions looked more serious than usual – his silver mask was gleaming in the crimson light of ritual, and the edges of his body were flickering like the smoke in the wind.

"We have already searched the continent three times."

Morgatha slowly raised her hand and started to trace some symbols in the air, and the images within the crystal reacted on her gestures.

"No."

She pointed at the crystal. Her voice sounded calm and firm.

"We have searched for Divine Mark signatures."

Lokiar glanced at her. "And?"

Morgatha gave him a smile. But it wasn't friendly – this was a smile of someone who managed to solve a thousand-year-old puzzle.

"We need to search for something deeper."

She touched the crystal.

The images vanished, and they were replaced by something else.

The map of Demon Continent appeared.

It was a beautiful sight – a huge territory with dark mountains, crimson rivers, black forests and ash fields. Seven spots of light were shining on it, each of them was pulsing with some specific frequency.

Five of them were red. They burned with the power of the captured Divine Marks.

Two of them were white, and they flickered like distant stars, hidden somewhere.

Lokiar stared at them. "The remaining marks."

"Yes."

"Why haven't they been detected?"

Morgatha's smile vanished, and she became serious – like someone who discovered that they faced something beyond their expectations.

"Someone is hiding them."

Lokiar narrowed his eyes. "Humanity?"

"Perhaps."

She turned to him. The dark robes were swirling around her like liquid shadows.

"But perhaps the marks themselves are hiding."

Lokiar smiled – it was a thin smile of a predator which found an interesting challenge.

"Then I will ask the shadows."

He snapped his fingers.

The ritual chamber suddenly became darker. The crimson light of ritual weakened and was replaced by something else – something darker, which seemed to devour all the light.

Several black mirrors appeared around them. They were floating in the air like the windows leading to other worlds, their surface rippling like the water.

And inside each mirror...someone was watching.

It was a merchant walking along the bustling streets of a city, his eyes scanning the crowd.

It was a royal servant who was busy with cleaning the linens, listening to every word.

It was a hunter standing in the forest, bow drawn, eyes fixed at something in the distance.

It was a traveling priest, whose robes were covered with the dust from the roads, and who was ready to hear any confession.

It was a soldier standing in the garrison, his armor shiny, eyes seeing everything.

It was a nobleman sitting at the royal feast, smiling and counting the benefits.

They were the spies, hundreds, thousands, maybe more of them. They were spread across the whole continent – every kingdom, every city, every village. Some of them were aware that they serve the demons, but most of them didn't know it. Some of them were bribed by the gold, some of them were threatened by the death, and some were manipulated with the illusions for such a long time that they no longer remembered their names.

Lokiar glanced at the mirrors. His voice was calm but commandant.

"Find unusual magical signatures."

The spies moved.

The mirrors changed.

One after another, cities became invisible for them.

A bustling port city on the eastern coast – nothing.

A mountain fortress in the north – nothing.

A trading hub in the south – nothing.

A farming village in the west – nothing.

Lokiar was looking at the mirrors, his patience was endless. He was waiting for this moment for centuries, and he could wait several more hours.

Then...

One of the mirrors stopped.

It showed a majestic royal palace – the white marble walls and golden spires of it, gardens with flowers in it, singing fountains with crystal water.

The Kingdom of Seraiya.

Lokiar narrowed his eyes. His fingers twitched, and the view changed.

Through the palace gates. Through the guards, whose armor was gleaming in the afternoon sun. Through the servants, whose arms were laden with the linens and trays. Through the throne room, which was now empty, but was still radiating the power.

And then it stopped.

A young woman was standing next to a balcony.

She had golden hair that was catching the rays of sunlight like the moonlight. She had a sapphire crown that was gleaming with the inner fire. Golden eyes of hers were reflecting the afternoon sunlight, warm, intelligent and strong.

And a magnificent Divine Mark covered her body.

This time it wasn't a symbol. It wasn't even a simple manifestation—it was a presence.

"This is the Queen," Morgatha muttered quietly.

Lokiar nodded. He gazed at the picture.

"Lilia KingHeart."

It moved closer; Divine Mark of the Queen appeared on the screen. Crown of Light surrounded by seven stars, pulsating power of each of them caused vibrations in the air.

Morgatha's expression changed. Her eyes widened; fingers began to tremble.

"That isn't only Legendary Divine Mark."

"You recognize it?"

She looked right into the screen. Her voice became quiet.

"The Sovereign of Dominion."

Silence.

"The mark of absolute authority."

Lokiar's lips curved in a smile. That smile belonged to the one who discovered some valuable treasure.

"So the second one is the Queen?"

Morgatha nodded.

"Her mark has evolved."

"How?"

"I don't know."

Her eyes narrowed. Morgatha was quickly analyzing all the fragments of information which she possessed.

"But I know what that means."

Lokiar looked at her expectantly.

"The more authority she possesses, the stronger her link with the KingHeart bloodline."

He studied the image of Lilia carefully.

"Interesting."

Morgatha spoke, her voice dark and menacing.

"And dangerous."

The picture was changing.

There was Lilia in the middle of the Royal Arena; wind was blowing her golden hair. There was also thousands of wyverns above her—they were flying over the battlefield, blocking the sunlight.

Dominion Aura of the Queen was spread across the arena. It wasn't visible; it was an invisible pressure which commanded obedience.

And creatures started to descend. One by one. Wings were folding; heads were lowering; eyes were fixing the Sovereign of Dominion.

Bowing.

Lokiar's smile disappeared; form was flickering.

"She commands wyverns."

"Not commands."

Morgatha corrected him firmly.

"They recognize her."

He looked again at the picture. Lilia standing below the sky—her presence was spreading across the arena. Behind her there were countless wyverns—waiting, but not serving, but recognizing their Queen.

She whispered.

"The Sovereign of Dominion."

She turned around and started to walk.

"Capture her alive."

Lokiar nodded. "That leaves one."

Crystal was changing again.

Thousand different faces appeared in it—faces of merchants and nobles, soldiers and scholars, hunters and healers. He continued to search, hour after hour.

Nothing.

The patience of Lokiar was endless, but he felt how it was running out. The remaining Divine Mark was hidden much better than all other—more successfully than any one of them.

Then…

…one of the images flickered.

Dark Alley with silver light falling from the moon. The silhouette of the hooded person moving on the roofs—quickly, silently, almost impossibly graceful.

Lokiar's gaze narrowed.

"Interesting."

Morgatha approached him. Her dark robes rustled on the stone floor.

The person was jumping from one building to another—movements were quick and dance-like; they clearly showed that he or she had spent years training to evade someone.

Quick. Almost impossibly quick.

Guard was looking up—his eyes were widening, his hand was going toward the sword.

But the person had already vanished.

The image was changing again.

Stolen Artifact—golden chalice decorated with precious stones which was vanishing into the darkness. Locked Treasury—opened doors and everything was untouched except for one missing thing. Nobleman's Mansion—its owner sleeping peacefully while someone mysterious entering it from the window. Royal Vault—defenses were bypassed with ridiculous easiness.

The same hooded person was appearing in every place—always one step ahead, always out of reach.

Lokiar smiled; his mask glimmered in the crimson light.

"A thief."

Morgatha looked unimpressed. Her voice was full of disdain.

"A common criminal?"

"No."

His smile was widening; his form became solid, as if the challenge made him more concentrated.

"Not common."

The person removed the hood.

Hair flowing on the back like waterfall of amethysts. Golden eyes sparkling with mischief and intelligence. Playful smile suggesting that this person was finding the entire world amusing.

Morgatha was staring at her now. Her expression changed—from disdain to interest.

"Name?"

He searched through his information base; fingers were moving in the air, searching the information in the network of spies.

"Rudy Kiss."

Several different pictures appeared in the crystal. Rudy was stealing the things from the nobles, her laughter was echoing in the hall illuminated by the moonlight. Rudy was escaping from the guards—movements were quick and graceful. Rudy was attending the underground auctioneers—her eyes were shining from the thrill of the game. Rudy was surrounded with treasures and was smiling with joy.

Then the image changed again.

Rudy stood in front of the ancient statue; her expression was different—serious, almost nostalgic. The playful thief had disappeared; something else, something older and deeper has appeared.

Morgatha noticed it immediately; her eyes were narrowing.

"Stop."

Image stopped.

"What?"

"Go back."

Lokiar rewound the illusion; the picture was repeating again.

Rudy appeared on the screen again. She was touching the statue; her hand was resting on the ancient symbol carved on it.

Crown of the KingHeart surrounded by seven swords.

Morgatha gasped; her breath caught in her throat.

"That symbol…"

He examined it; his voice was thoughtful.

"KingHeart."

Chamber became silent; the air was thick with meanings.

She slowly approached the crystal; her footsteps echoed in the silence.

"Impossible."

"You know something?" Lokiar looked at her.

Morgatha didn't answer; her gaze was fixed on Rudy's face; she was looking at her, analyzing, looking for something familiar.