Chapter 160

Chapter 160: Chapter 160

In the Moon Court, Nyra sat alone in her chamber, her eyes closed, her hands pressed together.

She had been trying to reach the mortal realm for hours reaching out with her power, searching for any connection, any thread that might lead her back. And finally, after multiple trials and failures, she saw something.

A vision.

Soren was standing in a dark tower, surrounded by familiar faces—Corvin, Ragnar, Roderic, Jasper, Marek, Maureen. And Finn.

Her heart clenched at the sight of him. Finn. Her betrayer. Her friend. The boy who had smiled at her while plotting her death.

She tried to reach out, tried to speak, tried to touch Soren’s face. But her hand passed through him like smoke. She was a ghost, invisible and powerless.

No, she thought. No, please. Let me through. Let me reach him.

But the vision remained just that—a vision. She could see them, but she couldn’t interact. She could watch, but she couldn’t warn them.

And then Finn spoke, and her blood ran cold.

"I can’t believe Elias would do this," he said, his voice filled with convincing shock. "He seemed so loyal."

Liar, Nyra thought. You knew. You knew all along. You’re working with them.

But she couldn’t say it. She couldn’t do anything but watch.

The vision faded, and she was alone again in her room. The tears came—hot and relentless. She pressed her hands to her face and sobbed, the grief and frustration pouring out of her like a flood.

I’m so close, she thought. I can see them. I can see him. But I can’t reach them. I can’t warn them.

You will, Luna said. You’re getting stronger. Every day, you’re getting stronger. Soon, you’ll be able to do more than just watch.

When? When will I be able to do more?

I don’t know. But we’re not giving up. We’re never giving up.

Nyra dried her tears and stood up. She had training to do. She had power to master. And she had a realm to save.

Corvin sat in his laboratory, staring at the vial of blood on his workbench.

It was Killian’s blood—collected after his death, before the body had been removed. The vial was small, barely larger than his thumb, but it contained secrets that Corvin was desperate to unlock. He had been analyzing it for days, running test after test, searching for traces of the poison that had killed Killian.

So far, he had found nothing.

He picked up the vial and held it to the candlelight, watching the dark liquid swirl. The blood had clotted hours ago, but there was something about it, something wrong. The color was off. Too dark. Too thick. And there was a faint shimmer to it, as if something unnatural was suspended in the plasma.

What did they give you, Killian? he thought. What killed you before you could tell us the truth?

He set the vial down and rubbed his tired eyes. The laboratory was quiet, the only sounds the soft bubbling of a cauldron and the scratch of his quill on parchment. The candles had burned low, casting long shadows across the stone walls. He had been working for hours—days, really—and he was no closer to an answer than when he started.

Think, he told himself. What do you know?

He knew the poison was rare. He knew it was fast-acting but not instantaneous—Killian had time to speak before he died. He knew it caused convulsions, bleeding from the eyes and ears and mouth. He knew it had been used before.

On Soren, he thought. The same poison that nearly killed Soren. The same one that killed Thorne.

But knowing that didn’t help him identify it. He needed more information. He needed a sample of the original poison—the one from the showcase, the one that had been analyzed by the palace healers. But those records were sealed. The King had ordered them classified after the investigation began.

I need to break in, he thought. I need to see those records.

He picked up his quill and made a note on his parchment. Then he turned back to the blood.

There was something else. Something about the way the blood reacted to certain compounds. He had tested it with moonflower extract—a common reagent in his laboratory and the blood had turned silver. Not the deep red of normal blood, but a bright, unnatural silver.

Silver, he thought. That’s not normal. That’s not any poison I’ve ever seen.

He reached for a different vial—a clear liquid that glowed faintly in the darkness. It was a rare reagent, one his father had given him years ago. It was used to detect traces of old magic. He had never had a reason to use it before.

He added a single drop to the blood.

The reaction was immediate.

The blood began to bubble, releasing a thin plume of black smoke. Corvin coughed and waved it away, but his eyes were fixed on the vial. The blood had turned completely black not the dark red of normal coagulation, but a deep, inky blackness that seemed to swallow the light.

Dark magic, he realized. The poison is infused with dark magic.

That narrowed it down. There were only a few people in the realm who could brew a poison laced with dark magic. Morgath was one of them. The witch of the Shadowwood. Varek’s ally.

She’s behind this, he thought. She gave Varek the poison. She helped him kill Thorne. She helped him poison Soren.

But he still didn’t have proof. He needed to trace the poison back to its source. He needed to find the antidote. He needed to understand exactly what he was dealing with.

He reached for a fresh sheet of parchment and began to write. He listed everything he knew—the symptoms, the reactions, the traces of dark magic. He listed every book he had read, every experiment he had run, every dead end he had hit.

And then he listed the one thing he hadn’t tried yet.

The Shadowwood, he wrote. I need to go there. I need to find Morgath’s lair. I need to see the poison for myself.

It was a dangerous plan—perhaps the most dangerous plan he had ever conceived. The Shadowwood was a place of nightmares, a place where even the bravest wolves feared to tread. But Corvin was not afraid. He had lost too much to be afraid.

Nyra, he thought. Soren. All the people she hurt.

He set down his quill and stared at the vial of blood one more time.

I’ll find you, Morgath, he thought. And when I do, I’ll make you pay for everything.

He worked through the night, mixing compounds, testing reactions, searching for anything that might give him an edge. But the answers didn’t come. The poison remained a mystery—a puzzle with missing pieces.

By the time the first light of dawn crept through the laboratory windows, Corvin was no closer to the truth than when he started. He had a theory—a strong theory—but no proof. He had a direction the Shadowwood but no plan.

I need more time, he thought. I need more information. I need—

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.

"Come in," he said, his voice rough from lack of sleep.

The door opened, and Lucian stepped inside. He was carrying a tray of food—bread, cheese, a cup of cold tea. He set it down on the workbench and looked at Corvin with concern.

"You’ve been in here all night," Lucian said. "Again."

"I’m working."

"You’re obsessing." Lucian pulled up a stool and sat down. "What did you find?"

"Nothing useful. The poison is laced with dark magic. That’s all I know for certain. It’s the same one that killed Thorne and nearly killed Soren. But I can’t identify it. I can’t find the antidote. I can’t do anything."

"Then stop trying to do it alone." Lucian pushed the tray toward him. "Eat something. Get some rest. Then start again with fresh eyes."

Corvin stared at the food. He wasn’t hungry. He wasn’t tired. He was consumed by the need to find answers—to stop the people who had destroyed everything he cared about.

But Lucian was right. He couldn’t do this alone. He needed help. He needed Soren. He needed the others. He needed to stop trying to be the hero and start being part of a team.

"Fine," he said, picking up a piece of bread. "I’ll eat. But then we’re going to the palace. We need to see those records. The ones from the showcase. The ones the King classified."

"You want to break into the palace archives?"

"I want to find the truth. Whatever it takes."

Lucian grinned. "That’s the Corvin I know."

They ate in silence, the weight of everything they had lost pressing down on them. And when they were finished, Corvin gathered his notes and his vials and walked out of the laboratory, ready to continue the fight.

The answers were out there. He just had to find them.

In the royal chambers, the King and Queen sat together in the darkness.

The candles had burned low, casting long shadows across the walls. The King was slumped in his chair, his face heavy with exhaustion. The Queen sat across from him, her hands folded in her lap, her expression unreadable.

"The seer told me about the ritual," Seraphina said quietly. "The one that could bring Nyra back."

Aldric nodded. "It requires a sacrifice."

"A sacrifice." Seraphina’s voice was sharp. "You mean a life. Someone would have to die so she could live."

"That’s what the seer believes."

"And you’re considering it?" Seraphina stood, her eyes blazing. "You’re considering sacrificing our son for a girl who’s already dead?"

"I’m considering saving the realm." The King’s voice was heavy. "If the seer is right—if Nyra’s return is the only way to stop the goddess’s wrath—"

"There has to be another way." Seraphina’s voice cracked. "I won’t lose my son. I won’t. Not for the realm. Not for anything."

Aldric reached for her hand. "We’ll find another way. I promise. But we need to be prepared for all possibilities."

Seraphina pulled away. "There are no other possibilities. Soren will live. He will survive this. And we will find a way to save the realm without sacrificing him."

She turned and walked out of the room, leaving the King alone with his thoughts.

Soren followed Finn through the dark corridors of the academy.

It was late—past midnight—and the halls were empty. The torches had burned low, casting flickering shadows across the stone. Finn moved with a purpose that Soren had never seen before, his steps quick and sure, his head turning occasionally as if checking for followers.

Where are you going? Soren thought. What are you planning?

Finn paused at a corner, his head tilting as if listening. Soren stopped too, pressing himself against the wall. He held his breath.

For a long moment, neither of them moved. The silence was absolute. Then Finn continued, disappearing around the corner.

Soren started to follow—

A hand shot out from a doorway and grabbed his arm.

He reached for his dagger, ready to strike, but a hand clamped over his mouth, silencing him.

"Shh." A familiar voice. Valeria.

She pulled him into the room and closed the door quietly. They stood in the darkness, barely breathing, as Finn’s footsteps echoed in the corridor outside.

After a long moment, the footsteps faded.

Valeria released him. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Following Finn. What are you doing here?"

"The same thing." She met his eyes. "I’ve been watching him for days. He’s been sneaking out at night, meeting with someone. I don’t know who yet."

"Then we follow him together."

Valeria nodded. "Together."

They slipped out of the room and into the corridor, following Finn’s trail into the darkness. The academy was silent around them, the only sound the soft pad of their footsteps on the stone.

They followed Finn through the east wing, past the abandoned classrooms, past the old storage rooms. He moved with the confidence of someone who had walked this path many times before.

And then he stopped.

Finn stood in the middle of a corridor, his head tilted, his body still. He was listening.

Soren and Valeria pressed themselves against the wall, holding their breath. The silence stretched, thick and heavy.

Then Finn turned, and for a moment, his eyes seemed to look directly at them. But he didn’t see them—they were hidden in the shadows, invisible in the darkness.

After a long moment, he continued, disappearing through a door at the end of the corridor.

Soren started to follow, but Valeria grabbed his arm.

"Wait," she whispered. "If we go in there, we might not come out. We don’t know what’s waiting for us."

"Then we don’t go in. Not yet." Soren’s voice was hard. "But we watch. We wait. And when we have enough evidence, we strike."

Valeria nodded. "And until then?"

"Until then, we keep following him. We learn his patterns. We find out who he’s meeting with." Soren’s golden eyes blazed in the darkness. "And then we destroy them all."

They slipped away into the shadows, leaving Finn to his secrets.

The hunt was far from over.