Chapter 28: Northward

Morning light filtered weakly through the high windows of the throne hall.

Lilith sat rigid upon the seat of living shadow and bone, crimson hair unbound, one hand resting on the carved armrest hard enough that her nails had left faint grooves in the dark material. A single guard knelt at the foot of the dais.

“My Queen. The hero fled north. All tracks confirm it.”

Lilith’s eyes narrowed.

“There is nothing in the north but frost and death. Are you certain she did not double back toward the human territories? She may be trying to mislead us.”

“No, my Queen. The trail is clear. She moved steadily north through the night and into the morning.”

Thalira stepped forward from her place near the wall, silver braid tight, voice carefully controlled.

“My Queen. Grant me leave to go alone. I will bring her back to you.”

Inside her mind the thought was colder: I will kill that whore somewhere no one will ever find the body.

Lilith did not even look at her.

“No. You remain here.”

“My Queen—”

“Do not make me repeat myself.” Lilith’s voice dropped. “You have tested me too often of late. Continue and I will exile you from this citadel for the rest of your existence.”

Thalira’s head lowered at once. “As you command.”

Lilith turned her gaze to Nyx, who stood a few paces away, hands clasped tightly in front of her.

“Little sister. The time has come. You will bring back what belongs to me.”

Nyx’s eyes widened, a spark of something eager and desperate flashing through them.

“Gladly, Sister.”

Morgana’s voice cut across the hall, cool and sharp.

“No.”

She stepped forward, long black hair falling like a curtain, amber eyes hard.

“You know as well as I do that our youngest sister is not strong enough for this. We have no idea what waits in the north. I will not risk my own blood for your filthy little hero.”

Nyx turned to her quickly. “Elder Sister, I want to do this. I can succeed.”

“Enough.” Morgana’s tone left no room. “You have been strange lately. Why are you so eager for the hero?” She looked back at Lilith. “We sealed the lower levels. The screaming stopped, yet the smell of ash is still thick enough to choke on. Is everyone in this citadel a fool, or are we simply pretending not to notice? Why has no one spoken of the ash or those sounds? We could not even bring ourselves to go down there. Lilith—are your eyes blind? Those ashes have something to do with the hero.”

Silence stretched.

Morgana’s voice rose, edged with real anger.

“I said silence to you. An Archangel descended because of those ashes. The fools above almost certainly blame us. Everyone here was so arrogant, so certain of themselves—are you all idiots? Whatever that thing was, it did not distinguish between good and evil. It did not kill quickly. The screaming lasted for hours.”

Thalira spoke carefully, eyes still lowered.

“Forgive me for speaking again, but Lady Morgana may be right. At the dinner table, when the hero stabbed herself, there was a moment… a wrong smile, and laughter that did not belong to her. She was not herself.”

Nyx’s mind flashed, unbidden, to the night she had tried to take Elara by force—the sudden iron grip around her throat, the cold power that had poured through the hero’s arm, the way she had barely escaped. She forced the memory down.

Coincidence. Only a surge of panic. Nothing more.

Lilith’s fingers tightened on the armrest.

“I do not believe anything in that girl could surpass my power. I examined her for hours. I slept beside her. If those ashes were truly hers, she would have killed me already.”

Morgana’s laugh was short and humorless.

“How do you know she did not try? Perhaps she simply never found the chance.”

“She tried with a pair of scissors and failed,” Lilith answered coldly. “She is weak. I feel not a single drop of power from her. The seals hold. She could not even lift her own sacred sword if we placed it in her hands. This is the Goddess’s work—hers and her angels’. She is helping the hero somehow. I simply do not yet see the benefit.”

Morgana’s voice cracked like a whip.

“Does that make sense to you? The Archangel came and destroyed the ash clouds. If the Goddess created them, why would her own Archangel erase them? Use your mind. Stop pretending nothing is wrong. Something is here. I can feel it, Sister.”

Lilith rose from the throne.

“Enough. Think logically. First the Goddess sends ash, then the Archangel cleans it away for a pretty display. They are playing both sides of the board. It is theater.”

Morgana stared at her for a long moment, then exhaled through her nose.

“Very well. It seems I cannot win this argument, because you refuse to see what is in front of you.”

Lilith’s eyes flashed.

“You are my elder sister, and I have no wish to break your heart. But you are testing the last of my patience. If Nyx had spoken to me the way you just did, she would already be paying the price.” She turned. “Nyx. Prepare yourself. You leave for the north.”

Nyx bowed quickly. “As you command, Sister.”

Morgana stepped forward again.

“Not alone. Send me with her. I will not allow my little sister to go into that place by herself.”

Lilith regarded her for a moment, then gave a single nod.

“As you wish. In truth, it is better this way. I trust you.”

Morgana’s mouth tightened, but she only turned to Nyx.

“Pack. We leave at once.”

—

The northern road was cold and empty.

Mist began to gather the farther they traveled. Morgana walked with easy, predatory grace, amber eyes half-lidded. After a long silence she glanced sideways at her younger sister.

“You have been different lately. No energy. What is wrong with you?”

Nyx kept her gaze on the path. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

“You’re obsessed with that hero, aren’t you?” Morgana’s voice was almost casual. “You want her. You desire her. It’s written all over you.”

“No—no, Elder Sister. She belongs to Lilith.”

Morgana gave a soft, dismissive sound.

“That broken little hero belongs to no one. Lilith is lying to herself. I doubt she has even taken her fully yet.”

Nyx’s face flushed. She looked down. “I don’t know. Talking about my sister’s… private life feels strange.”

“Did you manage to take her yourself?”

Nyx’s head snapped up. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Morgana smiled, sharp and knowing.

“I see. You failed. How clumsy of you.”

“I’m not trying to take her!”

“Your lies are transparent. Lilith has probably noticed as well, though you don’t speak to her as openly as you speak to me.”

Nyx’s voice cracked.

“All right—all right. Please don’t tell Lilith. You win. You got what you wanted.”

Morgana’s expression cooled.

“Lilith cannot think clearly anymore. Don’t be afraid. I won’t say a word to her. She has already gone far enough to risk her own sisters for that girl.”

Nyx swallowed. “Elder Sister… have we come too far? The mist is thick. How will we find our way?”

Morgana stopped and turned fully toward her. One hand settled on Nyx’s shoulder, grip firm.

“Listen to me carefully. We are going to take the hero. If you wish, you may have her first. After that I will kill her and erase her. That bitch is not good for our sister. There is something wrong inside her. I can feel it. I am telling you this as a warning, not a kindness.”

Nyx’s eyes widened. “Rape? No—no, what are you talking about?”

“I know what you want.” Morgana’s voice was soft and final. “If you truly do not want her, I will simply kill her at once. Don’t come crying to me afterward.”

Nyx’s hands trembled at her sides. She looked at her elder sister once, twice, then forced herself to keep walking.

“…All right. But please… don’t kill her immediately.”

Morgana’s amber eyes narrowed.

“Have you fallen in love with that whore?”

“No!”

“Then be silent. I will kill her the moment I see her. Do not even approach her. You have feelings for her—I can smell it on you.”

The words tore out of Nyx before she could stop them.

“No! You can’t kill her—I need to clean myself with her!”

Morgana halted mid-step.

“Clean yourself?” Her voice had gone very quiet. “What exactly do you mean by that?”

Nyx’s face drained of color. Her eyes shone with sudden tears.

“I—I didn’t mean—my mind has been… wrong lately. Please, Elder Sister. Just don’t kill her right away. That’s all.”

Morgana studied her for a long, uncomfortable moment.

“We will speak of this later. You are hiding something from me. But this is neither the place nor the time.”

They walked on in silence.

The mist thickened until the trees themselves seemed to dissolve into grey. Morgana lifted one hand and cast a scrying charm. Faint traces of the hero’s passage flickered at the edge of her senses—then vanished, swallowed by the fog.

“The trail is here,” she murmured. “But this mist is unnatural. Even my magic cannot cut through it cleanly.”

High above them, unseen in the canopy, a white-elf sentry marked their position. Soft runes flared along the bark of the surrounding trees. The mist grew denser, heavier, deliberately woven to confuse and delay.

In a small wooden shelter deeper in the forest, Alvia’s eyes opened. She reached across the narrow space and shook Elara’s shoulder with urgent care.

“Wake up,” she whispered. “We have guests. They’re still far, but we need to move. Prepare yourself.”

Elara’s blue eyes opened, still heavy with sleep.

“What… what is it?”

“Quiet.” Alvia was already reaching for her spear and bow. “Get ready. We leave now.”