Chapter 3 - Chapter 3: The Price of Power

The night was a shroud, heavy and suffocating, as if the forest itself sought to choke me. I ran until my lungs burned, until the metallic tang of blood filled my mouth. The Éther hummed in my veins, a cruel reminder of what I'd done. The Water Kingdom mage, reduced to ashes. Nyra, alive, but staring at me like I was a monster.A vision haunted me: an obsidian throne, blood dripping, Nyra lifeless at its base. The Umbral had seared that image into my mind, and I couldn't shake it. "She is the price, Echo. Choose, or I will."I stopped, leaning against a tree, my arm throbbing where black lines writhed like snakes beneath my skin. They stretched further now, creeping to my shoulder, each a mark of the bargain I hadn't meant to strike.Lirien's amulet, clutched in my hand, burned against my palm, its runes faintly flickering in the moonlight. It felt like an anchor, a fragile thread keeping me from the abyss the Umbral beckoned me toward.A rustle behind me made me spin. Nyra stepped from the shadows, her knife glinting like a fang in the gloom. Her gaze, sharp as a blade's edge, pinned me in place."Don't do that again," she hissed, her voice rough as gravel. "Run from me like I'm some frightened child. What was that, Arion? What are you?"I didn't answer immediately. My mind—Kael's mind, the strategist—weighed every word, every gesture. Nyra wasn't a friend, not yet. Nor was she an enemy. She was an enigma, a potential ally or a dagger in my back. Like him. Like the man who betrayed me in my past life."I'm nothing you need to fear," I said, my voice steady despite the drumbeat of my heart. "For now."She stepped closer, twirling her knife between her fingers. "Don't lie to me. I saw what you did. That power… it's not normal. Not Fire, not Water, not Air, not Earth. It's…" She paused, the word scorching her tongue. "Éther."The word hung like a death sentence. I clenched my fists, feeling the Éther stir, a tingling urge to be unleashed. But I couldn't. Not again. Not when each use drew me closer to that voice, that throne, that blood."You don't know what you're talking about," I said, stepping back. "Go back to the Crows, Nyra. This isn't your fight."She laughed, a bitter, brittle sound. "I'm not stupid, Arion. The Crows aren't my family. They're a cage. And you…" She pointed her knife at me, her eyes sparking with defiance and curiosity."You think Dren doesn't know? He saw you. We all did. That purple flash in the sky. The kingdoms will come for you. And when they do, the Crows will hand you over to save their skins."Her words hit like a fist. She was right. The Éther wasn't a secret I could keep forever. Not after what I'd done. The flash on the horizon, the dead mage, the explosion that shook the camp. Someone would have felt it. Someone would come.And Dren, with his obsidian locket and predatory gaze, wasn't the type to risk his neck for a child."So, what do you want?" I asked, my voice cold. "If you turn me in, you'll gain nothing. The kingdoms don't reward traitors."Nyra let her knife drop to her side, though her fingers still brushed its edge. "I want to live," she whispered, her voice trembling yet resolute. "And you… you're my best chance. But if you lie to me again, Arion, I swear I'll slit your throat before the Éther claims you."I said nothing. There was nothing to say. In her gaze, I saw a familiar desperation: the resolve of someone betrayed, forced to survive in a world that offered no mercy. We were alike, more than I cared to admit.But trust was a luxury I couldn't afford. Not after everything."Move," I said, turning toward the forest. "The Crows are waiting."The Ashen Crows' camp was silent when we returned, the air thick with the calm before a storm. Dren waited by the fire, his locket gleaming like a dark eye.The other mercenaries watched us, some with suspicion, others with a deeper shadow in their expressions. Nyra stayed close, her fingers drumming on her knife's hilt. I didn't trust her, but for now, she was the closest thing I had to an ally."The artifact," Dren said, his voice slicing like a whip. "Give it to me."I lowered my gaze. We didn't have it. The watery sphere had been lost in the chaos, destroyed or stolen by another mercenary. "We didn't get it," I admitted, bracing for his reaction.Dren rose, his shadow stretching like a claw. "You didn't get it," he repeated, each word a blade. "And yet, the sky blazed with a purple flash. Do you think me a fool, little one?"He stepped toward me, his presence radiating a heat—not magical, but something deeper, more dangerous. "I know what you are. Heretic. Éther-bearer. And I know what the kingdoms will do when they find you."My mind raced, searching for an escape. I could use the Éther, end him now. But I was weak, and the other mercenaries would overwhelm me. Besides, Nyra was watching, and her silence unnerved me."You know nothing," I said, meeting his gaze. "If you turn me in, the kingdoms will kill you for sheltering me."Dren laughed, a dry, humorless sound. "Shelter you? No, little one. I'll use you. The Éther is a weapon, and I know how to wield it." He caressed his locket, and for a moment, I swear I saw a purple glint within."Join me, Arion. Serve the Crows, and I'll teach you to control that power. Defy me, and I'll hand you to the hunters."Before I could respond, a scream pierced the air. The ground shook, and a blinding white light flooded the camp. The mercenaries drew their weapons, unprepared for what emerged.A figure stepped from the forest, draped in white robes that shimmered like ice. Their hands bore runes that pulsed with power, making the air hum. An Éther mage hunter. I knew it instantly."Tharion of the Water Kingdom," the man intoned, his voice a funeral hymn. "Éther-bearers, reveal yourselves, or I will purify this place with blood."Nyra stiffened beside me, her fingers twitching toward her knife. Dren stepped back, his eyes darting between me and the hunter. The mercenaries formed a semicircle, but none moved. They knew what a hunter was. They knew there was no escape."Hand him over," Tharion said, his gaze locked on me. "The child. His soul is tainted. The Éther must be purged."My heart pounded, not with fear, but with fury. I remembered the village, the screams, the fire. I remembered Lirien, dead for protecting me. And I remembered my past life, the dagger in my back, my betrayer's laughter.I would not be a victim again."Run," I whispered to Nyra, but she didn't move. Her stare fixed on Tharion, and for a moment, I saw not fear, but hatred in her eyes.Tharion raised a hand, and the ground rumbled as water surged, hardening into crystal spikes that impaled two mercenaries, their cries cut short. The air grew heavy, charged with the drone of his glowing runes.Nyra reacted, her hands slashing to unleash a gust of wind, sharp enough to tear leather, but Tharion's runes flared, and the gust collapsed into a feeble breeze. Nyra stumbled, her body pinned by an invisible force, her knife slipping from her grasp."Run, you idiot!" she shouted, shoving me back with her last strength.I didn't move. My heart thundered, not with fear, but with fury. The Éther roared within me, a wildfire begging to be set free. My vision blurred, blood dripping from my nose, a reminder of the cost. I saw the village, the screams, Lirien's lifeless form. I wouldn't let Nyra die. Not like her."Use me," the Umbral whispered, its voice a thousand needles in my mind. "Save her, and the power is yours. But everything has a price."The amulet in my hand burned, its runes flaring with faint white light, as if struggling to hold me back. A memory struck: Lirien's gray eyes, soft with love, gazing at me in the hut, her scarred hand brushing my cheek. "You are enough," she'd whispered before the flames took her.The Umbral hissed, slicing through the memory: "That trinket won't contain you forever, child."I closed my eyes and let the Éther surge. My body screamed, blood bursting from my eyes, staining my vision red. Black veins spread across my chest, tearing at my soul. The amulet pulsed, its light flickering, but it couldn't stem the tide.A purple explosion erupted, shattering the crystal spikes and reducing Tharion to ashes, his runes fading like snuffed candles. The camp quaked, mercenaries screaming, some fleeing, others buried under debris.I collapsed to my knees, gasping, my hands trembling. The amulet slipped from my fingers, hitting the ground with a dull thud, its runes now dark.Nyra was free, her chest heaving, her gaze a mix of horror and awe. "Arion…" she murmured, her voice breaking.The Umbral laughed, and a vision slammed into me: the obsidian throne, stark and unyielding, surrounded by corpses. Among them lay a mercenary who'd given me water that morning, his chest torn open as if clawed from within. And there, at the throne's base, was Lirien, her gray eyes empty, her scarred hands still reaching for me."The price," the Umbral said. "There is always a price."I stared at my hands, slick with blood that wasn't mine. Nyra approached, her knife still in hand, her fingers trembling on its edge."Tell me the truth," she said, her voice cracked but resolute. "Or I swear I'll end this now."I didn't answer. I couldn't. The amulet lay in the dirt, a faint spark flickering in its runes, as if pleading for me to take it up.In my mind, the Umbral whispered one last time: "A king doesn't ask permission. A king takes." As I met Nyra's gaze, I knew the path to the throne had grown bloodier.