Crown Tournament 3 [Chapters 16-20]

Hey peeps!

Got the cover changed a bit. I told Darko it was too similar to the Elden Ring artwork (as someone pointed out) and I'm glad he changed it. Looks cooler, lol

Hopefully you all enjoy!

Shami

Chapter Sixteen

Akiva was power incarnate.

He was tall, lean, and carved with muscle, every inch of his frame honed like a living weapon. He stood the way Master Elias did: balanced, deliberate, like he carried an invisible sword in every motion. Even their faces shared a similar severity—stern features chiseled from stone, the kind of expression that belonged to warlords and monarchs.

But where Elias was all storm and fire, Akiva was midnight and mystery. His hair was a striking, almost unnatural red, fiery and wild, as though a flame had taken root atop his head. And though his body looked no older than a man in his prime, the depth in his eyes told another story. They were ancient eyes, eyes that had witnessed kingdoms rise and fall. Triumphs. Betrayals. Carnage.

He wore a tight suit of armor made from large gray scales. Did they come from a dragon? Wherever they come from, they were beautiful and sleek.

On his forehead was an arcanist mark unlike any I had ever seen… A beast that defied my understanding of mystical creatures. It had a serpentine body, but six clawed legs. Four glowing eyes. Draconic, yes, but also primal. Ferocious.

Then I saw it.

Coiled like a god coiled just outside the building, camouflaged within shadow and silence, lay his eldrin.

It was massive—easily larger than Hyperion—yet I hadn’t noticed it until now. That, I realized, was part of its power: the ability to be both invisible and undeniable. It watched me through a window with blazing crimson eyes, its forked tongue flickering curiously in and out.

A king basilisk.

The apex of poisonous mystical beasts. A creature so potent, so lethal, that even the scholars of the old orders classified it among dragons. To face one was to flirt with death.

“Who fought Elias?” Akiva asked, his voice low and smooth. He didn’t bark or demand, he simply inquired. And yet I felt more compelled to speak than I ever had under Elias’s orders. Where my Master barked like a commander, Akiva questioned like an executioner.

“Aziel Theano,” I said quickly. “He’s bonded to both a kirin and a twilight dragon. He attacked us at night with a team of dragons—the Claws. We fought hard. We killed two of them. But then Aziel emerged from the shadows and... struck Master in the chest. We barely escaped to the shoreline. I found a healer. But more dragons came after us. We fought again.”

I felt myself speaking too fast, rambling under the weight of Akiva’s gaze. I forced myself to breathe, to calm my nerves. He said nothing, simply absorbed the information like stone absorbs rain.

It was Orwyn who broke the silence.

“The Claws,” she said. “That’s what they call themselves now, isn’t it?”

I nodded.

Akiva reached to his belt and unclipped a small orb the size of his fist, black and swirling with a mist that moved as though it had a mind of its own. He whispered something into it, and a masked, hooded figure answered with a voice so faint I couldn’t make out the words.

“Elias, and the rest of the world, thought Aziel was dead,” Orwyn explained. “But our sources have traced his activity to the Queendom of Keshari. It’s likely that the kirin are being held there. We’ll have a more precise location once we arrive.”

“What about Yumi?” I asked. “She promised to join Aziel’s team to protect the rest of us. We have to get her back too.”

“We’ve seen the caladrius flying with them,” Orwyn replied. “And a woman we believe to be her. But she was bound. Not treated as a companion.”

“We will devise a plan to retrieve her,” Akiva said simply.

And somehow, despite the enormity of the task ahead of us—my father, the Claws, the captured kirin—I believed him. The certainty in his voice was absolute, quiet as a blade in the dark.

My knees buckled, overwhelmed by a surge of relief so sudden and complete it left me trembling. I hadn’t realized how tightly I’d been wound until I finally let go of the fear.

With Akiva at our side, there was a way forward.

Maybe reviving Master Elias hadn’t saved us, but we’d found the next best thing.

Just looking at Akiva—his quiet confidence, his commanding presence, and the titanic force of his king basilisk eldrin—it felt like we had nothing to fear. Aziel and his dragons didn’t stand a chance. Even Master’s warning about a dark power working behind the scenes seemed irrelevant. As grim as it was, surely an assassin like Akiva could cut through political manipulation and secret conspiracies with the same ease he dispatched enemies in the dark.

But then I remembered what Master had said.

I had to believe in myself.

I couldn’t just wait for someone else to save the day, not even a legend like Akiva. Master had given me the Red Wind title to remind me that I was no longer just a student. I was a warrior. A martial artist in my own right.

That realization hit me like a stone dropped into still water.

Part of me wanted to fall into Akiva’s shadow and let him carry the burden. But Elias would never want that. He would say there was a world of difference between working alongside someone and depending on them entirely.

I took a breath and stood up straighter, pushing the doubt aside. “Grandmaster Akiva. Whatever you need, just let me know. I’ll do my best.”

Akiva raised an eyebrow, amused. “Grandmaster Akiva?”

“Well, yeah,” I said with a shrug and a grin. “Elias is my master. You trained him. That makes you my grandmaster, doesn’t it? And honestly, I think of Elias as my real father. He’s the one who took me from the orphanage and raised me. So that makes you... like my grandfather.”

For a moment, Akiva said nothing. But his lips twitched, a faint smirk forming. It was the same expression Master wore whenever he was trying not to laugh. It made something warm settle in my chest.

“What was Elias like when you trained with him?” Orwyn asked. “Akiva and I have always been curious. He was such a rebellious child, you know?”

“Really?” I blinked. “I can’t even imagine that.”

It was hard to picture. My master was all discipline and precision. But I’d heard stories of his younger days, how he was brash, proud, even arrogant, especially when he bore the name Red Wind.

“Well, he did create his own fighting art,” Orwyn said with a fond shake of her head. “And he refused to bond for years. Didn’t want to follow in Akiva’s footsteps and take a king basilisk.”

I laughed, surprising even myself. “Hyperion once said Master looked old because I was stressing him out all the time. I guess him delaying the bond was a much more rational explanation.”

Even Akiva chuckled at that.

I told them everything then… About my training in the Sunset Desert, the long days under Master’s guidance, the harsh routines, the careful balance of drills and philosophy. It felt good to share it with them, to show them just how much Elias had meant to me. He’d left behind everything—his home, his family, his reputation, to raise me in a world of fire and stone.

Orwyn asked endless questions, especially about the creatures we’d encountered. Her love for magic burned bright, just as Master’s love for martial arts had shaped my path. She was more animated than I’d ever seen her, her scholarly curiosity shining through with every question.

Then, the black orb at Akiva’s belt began to swirl again. He pulled it free and murmured into it. The masked figure within answered in low tones, and though I couldn’t hear the words, I saw something flicker in Akiva’s expression, his jaw tightening, his eyes narrowing.

“Is that so,” he said, voice cold.

Whatever answer he received seemed to confirm something grim.

Akiva clipped the orb back to his belt, his expression like drawn steel.

“We’ve located Aziel and his dragons,” he said. “As we feared... they’re in a mansion owned by Empress Xiu.”

“Empress Xiu?” I asked, stunned. “But—”

I broke off, feeling like a fool as the truth slammed into me.

Of course. It all made sense now.

The mysterious woman my father’s dragon team had mentioned—the one with influence, resources, and a hunger for kirin magic—could only have been Empress Xiu. She was infamous not only for her obsession with bonding a kirin, but also for her twisted experiments on mystical creatures.

And it didn’t stop there. We’d already been attacked by the Geist Squad’s onryo arcanists, agents of fear and manipulation. It stood to reason that the next strike had come from the same shadowed hand. The Empress, as a tournament sponsor, wielded the kind of unchecked power that could shield Aziel’s ambushes from consequence. She was the perfect ally for someone like him.

I remembered something Old Man Valdo once said: “Elias never taught you politics, did he?”

He hadn’t. For all his wisdom, Master Elias focused on the martial path—honor, discipline, training. But politics? The tangled workings of alliances, corruption, and power plays? That had never been part of the curriculum. And now I was paying the price.

“An Empress, Akiva?” I asked, the weight of it settling in. “A dangerous target under any circumstance... but especially considering your past.”

Akiva nodded, his expression carved from stone. “If it were only Aziel and his dragons, we could storm the estate. But the Empress changes everything. Her protection makes him bold, and if we’re not careful, any misstep could ignite a war between New Norra and Keshari. We’ve seen what happened before… Argo must not be repeated.”

It was exactly as Master Elias had warned. I couldn’t wait around for someone to save us. I was the Red Wind now. I had to act like it.

“I’ll still do whatever it takes to rescue them,” I said, my voice steady.

“As will we,” Orwyn added. “Though we must tread lightly. Our influence is not limitless.”

She and Akiva exchanged a glance—one that spoke of history and shared burdens—and he gave a slow nod.

“Orwyn will return to the village,” he said. “Elias still needs care, and if his condition worsens, he may require the speed of the Westerlies again. And besides, that airship soaring above the Empress’s mansion might cause a diplomatic incident.”

He turned back to me. “I will attempt to request an audience with the Empress. She may grant it, or not, but either way, my presence should serve as a distraction.”

“What should we do in the meantime?”

“While I keep her attention, you’ll infiltrate the estate and find those who were taken. I suspect you’ll only be able to bring two or three companions—any more, and you’ll risk discovery. Send the rest of your team to the Riverrun Inn. I have allies there. Keshari operatives who owe me favors. They’ll ensure your safe escape.”

Chapter Seventeen

The airship touched down on the far outskirts of the capital, away from the life-giving river and deep in the heart of the desert. As the sun dipped below the horizon, the oppressive heat gave way to a gentle coolness. Despite the gravity of our mission, the crisp desert air stirred a sense of familiarity in me. It reminded me of countless evenings spent resting after long hours of training with Master Elias beneath the fading light of the Sunset Desert.

The six of us disembarked—Akiva, Luna, Sage, Finlay, Dario, and me—along with our remaining eldrin.

Orwyn stayed aboard the Westerlies, offering a final, solemn wave from the deck. “Akiva,” she said, “I’ll bring our son home when he’s well again. May the winds guide and protect you all.”

Akiva nodded once, then pointed to the gleaming sandstone city visible in the distance. “Let’s go. We’ll enter the old-fashioned way. On foot, and without drawing attention.”

It took about an hour of steady walking before we reached the capital’s outer limits.

A vast sandstone wall ringed the city, its surface set aglow by the last rays of daylight and the soft shimmer of embedded glowstones. The East Sea River ran directly through the city’s heart, its crystalline waters flanked by lush greenery and tall, swaying palm trees. Glowing streetlamps lined the walkways beyond the walls, already lit against the coming dark.

Proud flags fluttered from tall poles overhead, a tricolor banner of blue, red, and gold.

“The blue and red are constant across all Keshari provinces,” Sage reminded me. “Blue for the river, red for prosperity. The third color changes based on the ruler’s domain. It’s gold here, in the capital.”

“What’s the name of the city?” I asked.

“By tradition, it changes with every new monarch. Right now, it’s called Xiu.”

“I see.”

Honestly, the naming convention struck me as needlessly complicated, but I’d already learned that Keshari clung tightly to its traditions, and its rulers wielded absolute authority.

We passed through the gleaming southern gate without much trouble. With dusk nearly settled, there were few others waiting to enter. The guards at the gate, while armed, didn’t appear to be arcanists. If they were surprised to see a king basilisk walk past them, they didn’t dare show it, not in front of Akiva.

Inside the city walls, the Keshari capital of Xiu revealed itself in full splendor.

The entire city looked like a mirage come to life. The buildings, molded from the same sand that blanketed the desert, shimmered like they were carved from golden dusk. Luxurious silk tapestries draped from balconies and rooftops, dancing in the breeze like banners at a festival. Gold trimmings adorned even the humblest doorposts, as though each building was being dressed for a royal procession.

But beneath all that beauty was a harsher truth.

Poverty lingered in the city’s shadows like a ghost. Beggars lined the streets, faces hollow and eyes vacant. Children without homes clustered in alleyways and beneath archways, even more numerous than the orphans I’d grown up with at Rosewood.

Every so often, city guards swept through, barking orders and waving sticks, driving the poor and the unwanted out of the main streets. There was no kindness in their eyes—only disdain.

The contrast was staggering. Luxury and desperation coexisting in such close proximity, neither acknowledging the other.

I knew then that while the capital glittered, something rotten festered beneath its polished surface.

“Marik and I had to live like that, after the East Sea Raiders fell...” Luna murmured, her voice soft with memory.

“Yeah,” Finlay replied, glancing at her with a faint smile. “I remember Amir and I caught you trying to snag fruit from a vendor’s stall.”

“It’s no surprise that a queen who doesn’t care for her people is partnering with scum like Aziel Theano,” Dario spat. “I can’t wait to get Yumi and Lux out of here.”

Akiva remained silent. He wasn’t nearly as vocal in his disdain for cities as Master Elias had been, but I noticed the faint curl of his lip as he surveyed the capital. The resemblance was unmistakable—Elias must’ve inherited his distaste for nobility and urban corruption from his parents.

“Along the river,” Akiva said. “That’s where we’ll set up.”

We followed the winding path of the East Sea River through the city’s quieter districts. Most of the shops had closed for the evening, their windows shuttered and dark. Still, we passed the occasional servant or merchant rushing through the streets, their hurried whispers drifting past us like wind through reeds.

“We can’t be late... the Empress will have our heads.”

“Was it the Argo red or the Sellix white she favored?”

“She said her special guest likes his meat bloody. And I mean bloody bloody. Read the order again.”

We moved against the flow of traffic, heading deeper into the outskirts. “Grandmaster Akiva,” I asked, “shouldn’t we be heading toward the palace?”

He didn’t answer right away. Only when the sandstone grandeur of the central city gave way to crumbling wooden shacks and patchwork straw huts did he speak again.

“For starters, our group draws too much attention. Everyone knows you have a syrocko drake eldrin. That alone makes you too recognizable. Now, Wren isn’t so distinct that strangers on the street would notice immediately, but if we approach the palace and your father’s watching, it’ll be game over. Secondly,” he added, his voice quiet but sharp, “if things go poorly, we’ll need an escape route.”

Like the rest of the run-down outskirts, the Riverside Inn clashed violently with the splendor of Xiu’s center. It was a haphazard sprawl of creaky cabins built from warped and weather-worn wood. The river, lush and blooming through the heart of the city, narrowed to a sluggish trickle here, the surrounding earth dry and cracking beneath our feet.

Each cabin had its own crooked little pier, and most had a rowboat tied loosely to the docks, more decoration than vessel, but they’d float well enough if needed.

“Handy,” Akiva noted, “if you need to vanish quickly.”

At the front of the cluster of piers stood a small blue guard booth. The man inside didn’t move, but his eyes followed us with the alert precision of someone who’d trained not to blink. His eldrin, by contrast, was impossible to ignore—an angry, puffed-up cockatrice patrolling its domain like a feathered drill sergeant.

It looked ridiculous: a plump, scarlet chicken with a serpent’s head at the end of its tail and absurdly large wings that flapped with every waddling step. But beneath the comical appearance was something dangerous. Cockatrices were infamous for their venom and their ability to petrify their prey.

“That one’s old,” Sage observed, eyes gleaming with interest. “Cockatrices grow larger wings as they age. That one could probably fly.”

As soon as the cockatrice spotted Akiva, it froze, then gave a stiff, almost comical salute with its left wing. The man in the booth stood ramrod straight, nearly banging his head against the ceiling.

Only then did I realize the truth, this wasn’t just some random security detail. This man had trained under Akiva, likely studying his deadly, assassin-focused Fighting Art.

Akiva withdrew a ring of old, rusted keys from his pocket and spun them once around his finger. Without a word, we passed the silent guard and his clucking sentinel, heading toward the end of the pier.

The cabins there were particularly decrepit, their warped doors a chipped and fading sky-blue. Only the faded gold numbers on the doors offered the barest trace of connection to the city’s wealthier districts.

We were truly at the edge of the capital now. And whatever happened next, I could feel it: the rescue mission had already begun.

Akiva pointed toward the cabin at the very end of the pier—room 25. “We’ll leave a few of you here to prepare for a quick escape if things go wrong. Just get on the boat and row. Whatever happens in the palace, it’s unlikely she’ll freeze the river, and this is far enough from her dragon that you should have a head start. The guard will place a new boat the moment you leave.”

He handed the key to Finlay, then turned to room 23 and withdrew a different key from his ring.

“Will it really come to that?” Finlay asked, eyebrows raised. “A daring midnight flight? Like with the Geist Squad?”

Akiva paused, then turned back toward us with a familiar look of exasperation that reminded me painfully of Master Elias. “The entire point of an escape route is to avoid being cornered. You prepare for the worst, not because you expect it, but because you don’t want to scramble once it’s too late. That said, no, I don’t expect trouble. From what I’ve heard, there’s a celebration tonight. Even the Empress is likely to be... well-lubricated.”

Finlay and Sage exchanged uneasy glances.

To them, I imagined, the thought of an Empress getting drunk probably sounded absurd, like something that would never happen in a storybook. But after being raised by Elias, I knew better. Even monarchs were human. They bled, broke, and lied just like anyone else.

Akiva opened the door to room 23 and disappeared inside without another word, closing it behind him with a soft click.

I couldn’t hear anything, but that wasn’t surprising. Akiva moved with the same unnatural silence that had made him nearly invisible just minutes before.

“What do you think he’s doing?” I asked.

“Probably putting together a gift for the Empress,” Sage replied. “It’s expected when requesting an audience, especially from someone of Akiva’s stature.”

I frowned. “He can just ask to meet with her?”

“Yes,” Sage said. “He’s the head of House Tellia and a veteran of the God-Arcanist War. He's a legend. Plus, he has a legitimate reason, he wants answers about his son.”

“But Empress Xiu’s the one behind the attack. Why would she let him in?”

Sage half-shrugged. “Custom. Xiu may be a tyrant, but she clings to tradition. It’s how she holds power—and why she couldn’t attack us openly. That’s why she sent the Geist Squad instead.”

I sighed. Master Elias had always warned me that politics didn’t operate on logic. Apparently, smiling at someone while planning their murder was considered completely normal in noble circles.

When Akiva emerged again, he was carrying a modest gift basket with a few bottles of Argo red wine. In his other hand, he held several folded cloaks—burnt red with black trim—and a trio of strange, smooth white masks, similar to the one worn by the masked figure inside his orb.

“You,” he said, nodding to Luna. “You’ll be our infiltrator. You’re good at moving unseen. Take a cloak and a mask. Bring your white hart.”

Then he turned to me and Dario. “You two will have to leave your eldrin behind. That means direct combat will be difficult. But your magical bond will allow you to sense them. Use that to find the hostages.”

He tossed us cloaks and masks as well. The masks were strange, spongy, almost sticky to the touch. As I held one, it began to adhere to my fingertips.

“Put it on,” Akiva commanded.

I pressed it to my face. It sealed softly against my skin and shimmered faintly. When I turned to the nearby cabin window, my reflection had changed.

My skin tone remained the same, but my features were… different. Completely average. I had a forgettable face. Plain eyes, generic nose, lips that neither stood out nor vanished. A smattering of freckles, but not enough to be distinctive. The mask didn’t physically change me. It was an illusion, distorting the light to make me seem like someone no one would ever look at twice.

When I turned to Luna and Dario, I saw the same effect. Their faces had been blurred into anonymity, made ordinary and unrecognizable.

“These masks are enchanted,” I whispered.

“Exactly,” Akiva said. “They’ll conceal your identities, perfect for slipping through crowded corridors.”

Then he turned to the rest of our group.

“Everyone else, stay here,” he ordered. He handed Finlay a transparent orb of swirling black mist—an exact replica of the one he carried on his belt. “If I tell you to run, you run. Do not attempt to rescue us. You’ll only have moments after angering an Empress. That’s all the time you’ll get.”

He turned to us, the air shifting as his voice lowered.

“Now... let’s get moving.”

Chapter Eighteen

The palace was even more grand and resplendent than the city surrounding it, adorned with enough gold to rival a treasury vault and so much silk draping the halls that I half-imagined the Empress had commissioned a battalion of Anansi spiders to weave her décor. Every inch shimmered, opulence layered upon opulence.

An arcanist stood guard at the palace entrance, flanked by an extraordinary eldrin. It resembled a crocodile in shape, but it was immense, nearly the size of Akiva’s king basilisk. Its scales gleamed like polished emeralds, and a crown of golden horns curled from its skull, reminiscent of cresting waves. A translucent shimmer rippled down its spine, giving the illusion of a river flowing across its back.

The guard narrowed his eyes. “State your business.”

Akiva stepped forward, calm and unreadable. “My name is Akiva. I’m an arcanist from New Norra requesting an audience with Empress Xiu.”

The guard frowned, clearly scrutinizing him. His gaze shifted to the towering king basilisk looming behind us. Marik, cloaked by invisibility, remained unseen. Another layer of subterfuge to tilt the odds in our favor. The basilisk alone was enough of a distraction to keep most eyes occupied.

“It concerns my son,” Akiva added.

Beside me, Luna whispered, “Maybe if Akiva’s scary enough, Empress Xiu will just hand Aziel over.”

I snorted under my breath. A pleasant fantasy, but knowing my father, and everything Master Elias had told me about the Empress, I doubted either of them would surrender anything without a fight.

After a tense pause, the guard finally nodded. “Proceed. The Empress received your message. She’s expecting you.”

His eyes lingered on us with suspicion. The slight tremble in his hand betrayed unease—likely provoked by Akiva’s silent intensity or the sheer presence of his basilisk—but he said nothing more.

As we passed through the doors, the contrast was overwhelming. Noise slammed into me like a physical force.

More than a hundred guests filled the grand hall, laughing, dancing, and raising goblets in celebration. Most were arcanists, though the looseness in their stances and the uncalloused grace of their hands made it clear they weren’t warriors. These were nobles—politicians, aristocrats, and opportunists.

Servants bustled between the crowds, carrying trays of food and drink. Unlike the harmonious energy of Yumi’s celebration at the Feng household, these servants moved with frantic urgency. They wore matching blue and gold uniforms embroidered with sinuous river dragons, but the tight lines on their faces and the nervous flickers in their eyes told another story entirely, one of pressure, not pride.

I took a few more steps, letting the chaotic opulence wash over me, then froze.

A ripple of energy surged into my chest. Not a sound, not a flash of light, but a sensation. Warmth, longing, familiarity.

Roux.

Her magic.

I hadn’t felt it in days. It was faint—just the thinnest thread—but unmistakable. My breath caught in my throat, and I went still as a statue.

The world had felt unbalanced without her, like walking with a phantom limb. But now, even the faintest touch of her magic made everything feel… aligned. Real.

Luna bumped gently into my back, startling me from the reverie.

I forced myself forward again, each step driven by the steady certainty that Roux was here.

Somewhere inside this palace, my kirin, my partner, was waiting for me.

And I would find her.

I focused, gritting my teeth. Reaching out to Roux across such a great distance would be difficult. An arcanist’s magic always diminished with separation from their eldrin, and Roux was still far away, likely imprisoned deep underground. Still, even the faintest trace of her presence sent a pulse of strength and clarity through my veins.

Her Signs Aura should have guided me to her exact location.

But nothing happened.

No vision, no whisper of magic, no guidance from beyond. I strained harder, reaching for her through the bond, but the thread between us remained limp and unresponsive. Roux’s energy flickered just at the edge of my awareness, tantalizingly close… but inaccessible.

I forced myself to keep walking, careful not to let the frustration show on my face. Something was wrong. Even though I could feel her magic again, it was like trying to grasp water with a closed fist—there, but unusable.

Then Akiva casually scratched his back with one hand.

And somehow, a slip of paper ended up in my palm, passed to me more smoothly than I could have imagined. So deftly, in fact, that even with my trained eyes, I hadn’t seen the moment of transfer.

Akiva might have been a legend, but it was in that moment I realized just how dangerous he truly was.

If you are trying to use your magic, they likely have the kirin chained up with nullstone, which nullifies magic from all eldrin Tier 3 or lower. The signs aura won’t work. You will need to find her solely with your connection.

Nullstone?
I’d never heard of such a thing before, but the moment the word registered, Dario’s jaw tightened. He clearly knew exactly what it meant.

Still, I forced the worry from my mind, recalling Master Elias’s teachings, focus on what you can control. Roux might be chained somewhere beneath this gaudy palace, but the fact that I could feel her magic again—even just a trickle—was a good sign. It meant she was alive. That was enough for now.

As we slowly wove our way through the crowd, I kept my attention fixed on the subtle pulses of Roux’s aura, carefully tracking the changes. The closer we got to her, the stronger that bond would grow. The connection was faint, but real, like a silver thread tightening with every step.

Since the mansion was massive, the best we could do was use that bond like a compass and narrow down her location. That was why we hadn’t activated our invisibility spells yet. Moving unseen in a crowd would be too risky. One accidental bump, one confused noble stumbling into us, and the whole operation would fall apart.

Through the shifting throng of partygoers, I spotted two familiar faces, members of the Claws. The orochi arcanist and the cliffside dragon arcanist were drunk beyond recognition, slouched against their dragons for support as they pawed clumsily at the servant girls. Even in their inebriated state, the sheer presence of their eldrin was enough to keep the crowd in check, fear outweighing disgust.

At the far end of the hall, raised on a three-tiered dais draped in red, blue, and gold, sat Empress Xiu, and my father. Both were flushed with drink, wine bottles stacked beside them like trophies.

But even drunk, their demeanor hadn't changed. They radiated the same cold calculation, the same cruel arrogance that I remembered from the battlefield. My father’s smile was a slash of mockery, and his bark of laughter—when he cuffed a servant for moving too slowly—sounded eerily like the one he gave when he stood over Master Elias’s broken body.

Empress Xiu sat beside him, elegant and untouchable. She was just over five and a half feet tall, her beauty too flawless to seem real. Her features were unnaturally symmetrical, her skin porcelain-smooth, her presence more like a painted goddess than a person. Black hair framed her face like a shadowed veil, and she wore a sky-blue gown embroidered with river dragons, a golden scepter gripped tight in her pale hand.

Behind them stood her bodyguards, the Geist Squad.
Draped in black, their onryo spirits hung behind them like living nightmares. I caught flickers of brittle black hair, twisted mouths yawning wide, and flashes of silver from the weapons they carried. Standing among them was the bone dragon arcanist, just as cold and unmoving as his skeletal companion.

Dario nudged me. “She’s not here,” he murmured. “Orwyn was right.”

Yumi and Mika were nowhere in sight. That confirmed it, they were being held somewhere else, likely alongside Roux and Lux. Not teammates. Hostages. Bargaining chips against our resistance. And considering Empress Xiu’s obsession with magical experimentation, they might also be subjects for study.
If we were lucky, we’d arrived just in time.

Akiva flagged down a passing servant, murmuring something into his ear. After a moment, a herald stepped forward, clapping a ceremonial staff against the floor.

“All hear! All hear! The great Akiva of House Tellia seeks audience with Empress Xiu! He comes bearing gifts! A vintage red from New Norra’s finest harvest!”

The crowd turned as one, their attention momentarily torn away from the debauchery. That was our cue.

As they stared at Akiva, Luna, Dario, and I slipped deeper into the crowd, vanishing further into the press of bodies.

We combed the party floor in a wide, methodical sweep, moving in a careful grid. With every step, the pull of magic grew stronger, Roux’s presence warming my chest like an ember reigniting.

And then, we found it.
A particular patch of floor where the magic flared so powerfully that my breath caught.

They were directly beneath us.

Now all that remained... was figuring out how to get down there.

Chapter Nineteen

Beside me, Dario froze. I could tell he felt it too, that powerful surge of magic rising to its peak.

He nudged me, his voice a whisper. “The kirin are here. Right below us.”

I gently tapped Luna’s shoulder, slowing her. “Here. Directly beneath us.”

She gave a sharp nod, her eyes scanning the grand ballroom. “Give me a moment,” she murmured. “I think I can figure out what’s beneath this room. Once we’re downstairs, your magical link should guide us the rest of the way.”

Without breaking stride, she performed a quick visual sweep of the chamber, tracking every entrance, stairwell, and hallway. Her gaze flicked to the servants weaving through the crowd, one balancing a tray of golden-fried shrimp, the other carrying a heavy bottle of red wine. They ascended the dais and placed their offerings before Empress Xiu and my father, who both watched Akiva approach the center stage with stiff expressions.

From the way the Empress subtly waved her hand, trying to nudge my father forward, it was clear she wanted him to handle the conversation instead. Probably a wise move, considering what Orwyn had told us about Akiva back on the airship.

“Wine cellar,” Luna whispered, tilting her chin toward one of the retreating servants. “He’s heading down those stairs on the left, they spiral inward. I’m betting there’s a tunnel that leads beneath the ballroom.”

Sure enough, when I focused, I thought I heard footsteps echoing from below, right where the magic in my chest had flared the strongest.

“Let’s go,” Luna whispered, gliding through the crowd with a confidence so natural it took me a moment to remember who she really was.

She moved like she belonged.
Not just like a servant, but like someone born into this palace.

Watching her navigate the crowd, I realized something I’d always known but never fully understood, Luna’s time with the East Sea Raiders had turned her into a master of infiltration. This was her element. She could slip through a fortress as easily as I moved through sand dunes or Dario walked the forests.

The three of us descended the side staircase, our servant cloaks swaying gently behind us. With our drab clothing and unobtrusive posture, none of the nobles spared us so much as a glance. I kept my eyes on the dais, noting the bodyguards posted at the back. The bone dragon arcanist was as statuesque as ever, and the Geist Squad’s onryo arcanists melted into the shadows. Even they, for all their menace, seemed wary of Akiva’s presence.

Just like at the Winner’s Circle Celebration in Indigo Port, the wealthy barely registered those they deemed beneath them. Which made hiding in plain sight all the easier.

The stairwell led to a long, dim corridor built from the same rich red sandstone as the palace above. Silken banners swayed gently on the walls, and the air smelled faintly of spices and wine.

“Wait, which way is it again?” I asked, disoriented from the winding descent. Buildings had always confused me; I was better with open skies and shifting dunes.

All around us, I could hear the clatter of pans and the murmurs of kitchen workers.

“There,” Luna whispered, pointing toward a slightly ajar door. “That path should lead to the wine cellar, or a room connected to it.”

“Better than heading toward the kitchens,” Dario muttered. “Too many people there.”

“Most of them probably wouldn’t be okay with keeping kirin locked up,” I said. “Someone might’ve let them go.”

“Still... too risky,” Luna whispered. She jerked her head toward a quieter side passage. “This way.”

We ducked into a narrow corridor and slipped into an empty meeting room, its walls lined with polished wood and faded maps.

“You’ve spent a lot of time sneaking around, haven’t you?” Dario said, eyeing Luna with new appreciation.

She giggled. “I used to be awful at it. Erik from the East Sea Raiders used to beat me every time I got caught. Said I needed to act like I belonged. But I never felt like I belonged with them.”

She glanced at me then, her voice dropping. “But when I’m with Amir, I do.”

“Belong, huh…” Dario echoed, his voice trailing off. He didn’t say Yumi’s name, but I knew he was thinking of her. Of the way she’d accepted him when no one else did.

He reached for his pack, fingers brushing the edge of his bow. Just like I’d tucked Solarbrand into mine.

“Alright,” Luna said softly, cheeks still a little pink. “Let me turn you two invisible.”

She placed her hands gently on our backs. “Give me a second. Marik’s farther away than I expected, it takes longer when he’s distant.”

“Where is he?” I asked. The white hart had followed us near the palace, but he was cloaked in illusion and easy to lose track of.

“The hall was too tightly packed,” Luna said. “I didn’t want him bumping into anyone. I told him to hide outside and wait for us to leave.”

With Marik farther away than usual, it took longer for the spell to activate, but finally, my body shimmered and vanished. It was a disorienting experience. I could still feel my limbs, every breath, every heartbeat, but I had disappeared, even to my own eyes.

I held my hands up in front of me and saw nothing. The absence was unnerving, my senses convinced my hands were there, while my vision told me otherwise.

Still, invisibility was far more disorienting for everyone else, especially the servants. Even better, it let Dario and me carry our weapons openly. I carefully strapped Solarbrand and my smaller syrocko drake blade to my belt. The familiar weight grounded me.

We moved swiftly and silently through the sandstone corridors, following a mix of Luna’s intuition and the pull of our magical bond with the kirin.

And then, we found it.

To an ordinary eye, it would have looked like just another archway, but with every step I took toward it, my heartbeat quickened.

Roux was close.

A servant exited with a bottle of red wine in hand, confirming our suspicions. I nearly collided with him in my excitement, but forced myself to stop, muscles tense with restraint. Beside me, I could feel Dario vibrating with similar urgency.

We were only a few steps away.

Who knew how long Akiva could keep their attention upstairs? Every second counted.

When the servant finally vanished down the hall, we slipped through the archway.

It opened into a short hallway with three polished redwood doors—one to the left, one to the right, and one straight ahead.

Muted sounds drifted from the side doors, likely the servants’ quarters. But the final door, adorned with golden filigree in the shape of interwoven grapevines and fitted with pearl-handled knobs, was unmistakable.

The wine cellar.

I could feel it now—Roux, Lux, and the others. They were here. Each step brought a subtle rise in magic, like a soft drumbeat pulsing inside my veins.

“Careful,” Luna said, her voice barely audible. “I know you’re excited, but don’t make noise. I can’t keep us invisible and mute our sound at the same time.”

I nodded, swallowing my impatience. We crept forward, every footfall measured and quiet. When I reached the ornate door, I gently pushed it open. It creaked. Loudly.

I flinched, but no one came.

Inside, the wine cellar looked... ordinary. Rows upon rows of bottles rested in finely crafted cabinets, reds and whites perfectly organized by region and year.

If it weren’t for the kirin magic stirring in my blood, I would have thought we were in the wrong place.

“Where are they?” Dario asked. Though he was still invisible, I could practically see the bewildered look on his face.

“There has to be a hidden chamber,” Luna whispered. “A false wall, a concealed door. Maybe behind a cabinet or under the floor.”

Dario frowned. “Normally, they’d be able to talk to us from this close. The bond should be strong enough. The fact that it’s silent means something is still suppressing them.”

“Nullstone,” Luna said, nodding. “Like Akiva warned.”

Of course. I felt like an idiot.

We were far closer now than when Roux had been taken, and still she couldn’t reach me.

“They must’ve brought them in cages,” I whispered. “If we look closely, there might be some clue. Maybe something knocked over... scrape marks, wheel tracks, anything.”

We spread out, eyes scanning the cellar’s pristine walls and polished floors, searching for the hidden path to our partners.

“Servants have been coming in and out all night,” Luna murmured, scanning the room. “If anything had been knocked over, they probably cleaned it up already.” She frowned, thoughtfully twirling a lock of her mousy brown hair. “Still… that’s close. Dead Sea Erik taught us a few tricks for finding hidden passages…”

She moved with quiet confidence toward the far wall, methodically inspecting the wine cabinets one by one. Her eyes flicked over the wood, the grain, the dust.

Then she stopped in front of one stacked with particularly old bottles, their labels yellowed and their glass layered in a soft blanket of dust.

“Ah. This is it,” she whispered. “Probably the Empress’s least favorite vintage, something so undesirable that no one would dare touch it by accident.” Her hand hovered above the handle, but she didn’t pull.

“Not the handle…” she muttered. “Oh!”

Instead of opening it, she placed her hand against the side of the cabinet and gave a gentle shove. With a low, grating groan, the heavy shelving unit slid aside like a concealed door, revealing a narrow, hidden passage bathed in pale glowstone light.

And then I saw them.

Yumi.

Mika, her caladrius.

Lux, Dario’s kirin.

And Roux.

They were all there, caged and wounded, their bodies crammed into a dark, filthy stone room that reeked of blood and neglect. Crude cages of deep, mottled blue and black stone loomed over them, nullstone, just like Akiva warned us. Capable of dampening magic from any Tier 3 or lower eldrin, the stone sucked the very energy from the air.

The space was barely larger than a closet, more animal pen than prison, and the cages were stacked unevenly. One had even toppled sideways, leaving Yumi slumped at an awkward angle, struggling to keep herself upright against the bars.

None of them looked well.

Roux and Lux were shredded. Their fur and scales were matted with blood, and their manes had been violently torn out in patches. Fresh, ragged wounds crisscrossed their bodies, signs of harvesting, of experimentation.

Mika’s wings had been clipped, her once elegant feathers now ragged stubs. And sealed within the nullstone cage, she couldn’t even begin to heal herself.

Yumi looked the worst of them all. Her eye was swollen shut, her robes tattered, and she slumped weakly against the side of the cage, too exhausted to lift her head fully.

All of them stared in our direction.

They couldn’t see us—we were still invisible—but they knew the door had opened. They knew someone had come.

I wanted to rush forward, to shatter the cages and tear the door off its hinges.

But something stopped me.

There was something wrong. Something deeper than the nullstone. My instincts screamed it—every hair on my neck rose, every muscle tensed. There was a trap here. Something waiting to spring.

I didn’t know what.

But I knew I couldn’t charge forward.

Not yet.

Chapter Twenty

Despite my overwhelming need to reach Roux, every instinct in my body screamed at me to stop. Something was wrong, deeply, fundamentally wrong. The room looked off, but I couldn’t place exactly why.

Roux’s tail flicked toward the far-right corner of the cell block. A moment later, Lux did the same.

They were trying to warn us.

I narrowed my eyes, straining to see through the gloom. The lighting was dim, almost nonexistent, and that corner was especially drowned in shadow, as if the darkness itself had pooled unnaturally there.

Pooled?

My breath caught.

I reached for my belt and drew my master’s sword. Even with Wren far away, Solarbrand was always hungry for magic. The moment I summoned a flicker of flame, the blade burst to life, casting the wine cellar in golden-white firelight.

The shadows peeled back like a veil.

Standing there was a gaunt man in black robes, his arcanist mark gleaming like a sinister brand on his forehead. Floating behind him was a woman with skin as pale as polished bone and hair as long and brittle as spider silk. At first glance, she looked human until her eyes opened unnaturally wide and her mouth revealed rows of tightly packed, needle-thin teeth.

An onryo.

Empress Xiu had left a Geist Squad operative to guard the prisoners.

“Quickly!” I barked. “Before they escape!”

Dario moved without hesitation, drawing and loosing an arrow in one fluid motion.

But the shaft clattered harmlessly to the ground.

The arcanist and his eldritch partner had already begun to phase. Their bodies flickered and shimmered as they passed into an incorporeal state, ghostlike, intangible. A powerful augmentation unique to the cursed onryo. They couldn’t harm us like that, but we couldn’t harm them either.

They turned to flee.

They were going to alert the Empress.

Panic surged through me, but then I remembered nullstone. Akiva’s words echoed in my mind.

I spun toward Roux’s cage and slashed with Solarbrand. The magic-infused steel, forged from twilight dragon and syrocko drake essence, cut through the nullstone like paper. I seized a jagged bar from the shattered cage and hurled it with all my might.

It struck the arcanist just as he reached the wall. His body hardened instantly, and crashed into the sandstone with a sickening crack. The onryo reeled, opening her jaws wide to scream, but no sound emerged.

We shimmered into visibility again as Luna canceled our silence field, redirecting her magic to mute the enemy instead. I charged, Solarbrand flaring in my hands.

The arcanist thrust his hands out. The air shimmered, and suddenly, a whirlwind of razored blades burst into being, slashing toward us with brutal precision. My mouth filled with blood as one carved across my cheek.

I almost staggered, but the thought of Roux—broken and bleeding—gave me the strength to push forward.

Two arrows sprouted from the arcanist’s chest, then a third punched through his stomach. He gasped once, blood bubbling at his lips, before slumping to the ground.

Dario had ended him.

I turned, reorienting mid-strike, and brought Solarbrand down on the onryo. The blade sliced cleanly through her ethereal form. She let out a faint, gurgled gasp before vanishing into a puff of pale, mournful mist.

It was over.

I stared down at the fallen arcanist’s body, breath ragged, blood dripping from my jaw. No matter how cruel these people were, taking a life never got easier. Just like with Dead Sea Erik, I felt a cold weight settle in my stomach.

Then I turned to Dario, and froze.

His face was a mess of blood and shredded skin.
One of his eyes was gone.

“Dario—!” I choked out.

Blood spilled from my mouth mid-sentence, the damage to my face catching up to me. My cheeks were raw, but Dario… he was blind on one side.

“Partner…” he rasped, staggering. “Don’t forget. Yumi can heal us. Focus. Get the cages open.”

“Right. Right…” I breathed, forcing my limbs into motion.

The battle had snuffed out the magic in Solarbrand, but I rekindled it with a flicker of flame, the blade roaring back to life in my hands. One by one, I slashed through the nullstone cages, sending shards tumbling to the ground.

Yumi stumbled free first, clutching her side.

“Mika… to me!” she said, breathless, collapsing to her knees.

The wounded true-form caladrius hopped forward on her stubby legs, moving with an awkward wobble. Normally, Mika radiated grace—her wings outstretched, her feathers pristine—but with her flight feathers clipped, she was grounded, reduced to a fragile waddle. Even so, the soft glow returning to her body was a welcome sight. Freed from the nullstone cage, she was already healing herself.

Yumi stepped toward Dario, her expression full of trembling emotion. She raised a hand and gently cupped his wounded face, the gesture as delicate as if he were made of porcelain.

“Dario,” she whispered. “You came for me. I dreamed you would, and you really did.”

Golden light poured from her palm, the radiant warmth of true-form caladrius magic wrapping around Dario’s injuries. The healing was astonishing, his torn face mended, and even his dislodged eye eased back into place with miraculous precision. Dario gave a ragged cough, spattering blood onto Yumi’s cheek. She didn’t flinch.

Instead, she frowned, eyes wide with worry.

“But I healed—oh, Dario. Your side. They cut you there, too, didn’t they? You didn’t even notice... Let me.”

Still cradling his cheek with one hand, she laid the other against his abdomen. The light intensified, golden strands of magic weaving through his wounds.

“Yumi…” Dario breathed. “I never thought I’d see you again. I just…”

Whatever he was about to say, it wasn’t meant for me. The moment belonged to them. Just watching felt like an intrusion.

I turned away, only to feel a fresh pang from my still-aching jaw.

Mika coughed, using her wing to shield her beak. “Ahem. Lady Feng. I do realize how happy you must be to see Dario again, but Amir is also in need of healing. Not to interrupt your romance, but perhaps the kissing could wait just a moment?”

“Oh! Right!” Yumi gasped, cheeks burning crimson. “Of course. Sorry, Amir. You helped too. It wasn’t just my Dario.”

Flustered, she rushed over and pressed her hand to my face. Warmth surged through me as caladrius magic flowed into my skin and muscle. Her healing touch lacked the tenderness she’d shown Dario, but I didn’t mind. In fact, it moved faster, like she was eager to finish and return to her real priority.

“There… um, is that good?” she asked.

“Yeah.” I flexed my jaw. “That’s good.”

The sharp sting had dulled into nothing more than a memory. No blood, no lingering pain. And thankfully, I hadn’t taken any hidden injuries like Dario had.

Yumi darted back to Dario, and he pulled her into a sudden kiss. She let out a high-pitched squeak, then began stammering wildly.

“Oh my! My! This is… I… I thought we were meant to be together, but I didn’t think you’d actually—!”

She no longer sounded like the poised, elegant noble I remembered. She sounded like a girl madly in love.

“Was that okay?” Dario asked with innocent earnestness. “I didn’t get a lot of kissing practice growing up. Most mystical creatures who like kissing… well, things usually go wrong. Like those onryo.”

“No,” Yumi sighed dreamily, “It was perfect. Everything I’d ever dreamed.”

Luna and I exchanged a look.

Clearly, this part of the reunion wasn’t for us.

“Let’s go scout the escape route,” she suggested dryly.

“Good idea,” I said, turning. “Yumi, make sure everyone’s healed up so they can move.”

“I’ll give them my augmentation too,” Luna added quickly, already reaching out to place her hands on the others. She poured her stealth enchantment into each one, efficiently moving from person to person before darting after me.

As we slipped away to secure our exit, I could have sworn I heard Roux chuckling in the back of my mind, her amusement echoing faintly through our rekindled bond.

Back in the wine cellar, I quietly closed the hidden door behind us. What had once been a trap was now our shield, keeping any unsuspecting servant from wandering in and discovering the bloodied remains of a Geist Squad operative.

Luna and I slipped forward with careful urgency, retracing our steps through the shadowed corridors and emerging once more at the top of the staircase. The palace’s grand hall was still ablaze with motion and sound—the nobles had returned to their revelry with renewed vigor. They danced with such abandon I was surprised their silken garments hadn’t unraveled and fallen to the floor.

I cast a glance toward the raised dais.

Empress Xiu remained seated, her posture rigid, eyes narrowed in simmering irritation. She clutched a crystal glass of wine as if it might shatter in her grip, pausing now and then to whisper into the ears of the Geist Squad members standing just behind her. Judging by their composed demeanor, none of them had realized yet that one of their own had been slain.

The bone dragon arcanist stood silently beside her, still as stone, his enormous undead eldrin looming like a forgotten monument.

But my father was gone.

So was Akiva.

The ornate seat of honor beside the Empress sat empty, and a cold unease crept up my spine.

Even though Luna was invisible, I instinctively turned toward her. “Where did they go?” I whispered.

“No idea,” she replied. “But it looks like the path is clear, for now. Let’s get back and make sure no one’s coming for more wine.”

We moved swiftly, preparing to return to the hidden room, but froze at the sound of voices echoing down the hallway.

Arguing.

Well, one voice was arguing. Loud, venomous, and unmistakable.

My father.

His voice was a familiar blend of thunderous self-righteousness and cruel mockery—but beneath it, just faintly, I heard something else. Fear. “Akiva. Once, I feared you. You bonded with a creature worthy of legends. Unlike your pathetic son. But now? I hold all the cards. Empress Xiu herself supports me—and soon, during the tournament finals, she’ll reveal that she’s joined my team.”

My blood ran cold. That couldn’t be right.

Empress Xiu was one of the tournament’s sponsors. How could she just… switch sides?

But deep down, I knew it made a grim sort of sense. Aziel didn’t care about rules. If he believed the Ascension Crown would grant him godhood, he’d tear apart the whole system to get it.

Their footsteps neared, and Luna and I ducked back into the shadows, pressing ourselves flat against the wall.

Akiva must have murmured something in return—too low to hear—because Aziel laughed again, sharp and derisive. “I’m not concerned about your son. He’s not a threat anymore. So long as you don’t interfere, there’ll be no further harm. All the Empress and I want is for the tournament to proceed. Let’s just say, it entertains me.”

But I knew that wasn’t the real reason.

We’d read Viktor Tellia’s notes. The Crown didn’t awaken without blood. Without battle.

Aziel scoffed again, his voice dripping with disdain. “Come now. You won’t risk war between Keshari and New Norra. You’re bluffing. There’s nothing your king basilisk or your little spy games can do to stop me.”

Then, at last, Akiva’s voice cut through the tension—low and cold. “At the very least… walk me out like a proper host.”

Their footsteps turned, fading into the corridor.

The path was clear again.

“Let’s move,” I whispered.

Luna nodded, and we slipped back through the palace, weaving unseen through the throngs. The music and laughter faded behind us as we escaped into the night.

Outside, the air was cooler, the heat of the desert softened by the wind. Then I heard Roux’s voice echo in my mind, calm and steady.

“Partner. Yumi has healed me enough. Let’s ride.”

I swung onto her back without hesitation.

“We’ll take Yumi and Mika,” Dario said as he climbed onto Lux.

Marik rejoined us as well, white and ghostly against the starlit sky.

And just like that, the freed kirin took to the road, galloping with all the fury and grace of the storm-born. The grand, gilded palace of Empress Xiu faded behind us, swallowed by darkness, and the worn wooden cabins of the Riverside Inn appeared up ahead, beckoning us home.