Page 67 of Sundered By Fate

King Aster's appearance silenced even the whispers of gossamer and silks in the Great Hall.

He looked nothing like the monarch Aric had glimpsed in portraits: the gallant warrior whose cunning and bravery had driven back the demons from his kingdom; the benevolent ruler beloved by his people. This Aster was a gaunt, skeletal figure, skin ashen against the royal blue robes that draped his frail body. His hair, once described as a fiery crown, lay limp and white against his sallow skin. And though his eyes still glinted with intelligence—an unsettling intensity—their brightness seemed dimmed, as if some vital part of him had already slipped away.

As he shuffled to the throne, leaning heavily on a twisted staff, the courtiers' expressions shifted from shock to carefully crafted sympathy. Even Valerian, standing at his side, seemed taken aback by the transformation. But no one moved to help him.

And when Aster finally reached his seat and turned to face the gathered assembly, Aric’s blood cooled.

"A new age is dawning."

Aric shivered at the sound of King Aster's voice, sharp as frost on iron, despite the old man's withered appearance. Even from across the Great Hall, the tendons of Aster's neck were visibly straining, the cords and angles of his face pulled taut.

"We are done cowering behind our wards, clutching our last embers of magic," the king continued. "We have suffered enough, both at the claws of our enemies and by the demon-tainted vermin festering in our midst."

The king raised a spindly arm, gesturing toward the banners hanging high above, portraying winged demons swooping down upon screaming townsfolk. "But we have endured. And now it is time for us to do more than endure. To take the fight to those hellish realms and purge them once and for all."

Gasps rippled through the gathered crowd. Aric glanced around him—Ruta's eyes were wide with alarm; Cyrus's gaunt face was set in grim satisfaction; even Davin seemed unsettled by the fervor in Aster's words.

And still, the king spoke on. "Our mages have long been shackled by outdated oaths and cowardice. But I say no longer!" he shouted, his voice rising. "Let us unleash our full might upon these demonic foes. Let their infernal darkness be seared away by our righteous light!"

Aster's gaze swept over the room, his eyes blazing with a fevered intensity that seemed almost inhuman. There was a fervor to him—a fanaticism—that made Aric's stomach churn with unease.

Valerian stepped forward, his expression humble, but there was the faintest hint of satisfaction lurking in the set of his jaw.

"As you command, Your Majesty," Valerian said, bowing low. "In your absence, I have striven to protect Astaria and ourpeople from all threats, internal and external. And now that you have returned to us, I am at your disposal, as always."

"You have my gratitude, dear nephew." Aster's smile was tight as he grasped Valerian's shoulder. "Your leadership these past years has been invaluable. But I believe it is time for us to take a more direct approach to our challenges."

Valerian's blue eyes met Aric's for a heartbeat before he nodded. "Of course, Your Majesty."

"And speaking of which," Aster continued, turning back to the audience, "I must commend our Lord Regent for the bold new measures he has introduced. His initiative in researching new methods to combat the demon scourge is admirable."

A murmur rippled through the crowd. Aric glanced at Davin beside him and felt an answering surge of unease. Valerian's research had been shrouded in secrecy and speculation for months now, ever since Aric had first stumbled upon it during their tour of the city. And if the king's praise was any indication, they were about to find out exactly what Valerian’s research was all about.

"We cannot afford complacency in this age of darkness," Aster went on. "Which is why I am announcing today that we will send the Pureblade Order to the border to lead the charge into the demon realms."

The murmur swelled into an uproar as Aster raised a hand to silence them once more.

"Far from merely protecting us, they are now tasked with rooting out any demonic influence within our borders—no matter how small or insidious," Aster declared. "They will act independently of any other faction and report directly to me."

Aric felt a chill run through him at the words—at their implications—and caught Davin's eye again, warning him with a look.

"And for this, we have one man to thank," Aster continued. "Lord Inquisitor Cyrus Revenant."

Cyrus stepped forward, his silver cloak gleaming in the torchlight. His expression was impassive, but Aric knew better than to trust him at his surface appearance.

"Your Grace," Cyrus said, bowing deeply. "It is an honor to serve you and our realm."

"Your tireless dedication to rooting out demonic corruption—both within our borders and beyond—has been an inspiration to us all," Aster said. "Your faith in the light of the divine has never wavered, even in the face of the most insidious darkness."

A murmur of agreement ran through the crowd as Cyrus straightened, his eyes glinting with something like triumph.

"We will all follow your example," Aster continued. "As we enter this new age, we must remain vigilant against all threats to our realm, no matter how small or insidious. We must do whatever it takes to protect Astaria and our people."

Aric's stomach churned at the words, at their implications—and at Cyrus's satisfied smile. For all that he despised the man and everything he stood for, he had to acknowledge that Aster's endorsement made him an even more formidable opponent than before.

And if Valerian had been working with him . . .

Aric's mind raced as he tried to piece together all the threads of palace intrigue. Valerian and his grab for power; the arcane experiments hidden away beneath the palace; the Pureblade Order being sent to the frontlines.

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