Page 23 of Sundered By Fate

Cyrus sneered, folding his arms over his chest. "Oh, this should be good."

Ignoring him, Aric closed his eyes and focused inward, feeling for the thread of golden fire that burned within him. He'd always had an affinity for fire magic—it was what had earned him a place at the Silver Tower in the first place. But now it was so much more than that. Now it was a part of him—an extension of himself that responded to his every thought and emotion.

As he focused on the crystal orb in his hands, he felt the magic respond eagerly—like an old friend who'd been waiting far too long to be called upon. Slowly, its heat built within him, spreading through his veins like wildfire.

And then he let it loose.

The room around him exploded into chaos as golden flames erupted from his hands, swirling around him in a torrent. They licked at the walls and ceiling before coalescing into a single point above his head—one that glowed with an otherworldly light.

It was beautiful in its way—a perfect representation of the power and danger that lurked within him. But even as he marveled at it, something else stirred beneath the surface—something darker and more insidious than anything he'd ever encountered before.

As if sensing his thoughts, the flames began to shift—taking on new shapes and forms as they danced through the air. Shadows emerged from their depths—twisted figures that seemed to writhe and struggle against some unseen force.

Then Aric heard them—an eerie chorus of voices whispering half-heard words and phrases that chilled him to his core. Theyspoke of ancient prophecies and forgotten realms—of worlds beyond their own where demons roamed freely through fields of starlight and shadow.

And one voice rose above them all—a deep rumble that shook Aric to his very core.

"You cannot escape us," it said, its tone mocking yet strangely familiar. "We are coming for you—for all of you—and there is nothing you can do to stop us."

The flames flared brighter at its words—casting harsh shadows across Aric's face as he stared up at them in horror. He knew those words; he'd heard them before; they were carved deep into his memory like scars etched into stone.

But this time they felt different—more immediate somehow—as though they carried with them a weight he'd never known before; one heavy enough to crush him if he let it consume him completely.

Panic surged through him then—a desperate need to flee from whatever darkness lay coiled within those fiery depths—but even as he tried to pull back from it mentally the flames continued to rage on unchecked by anything save their own insatiable hunger for destruction . . .

There was nothing he could do now save watch helplessly as they consumed everything around him . . .

"Aric!" Davin rushed to his side, his own magic flaring as he fought to contain the inferno Aric had unleashed. A cooling mist spread through the room, dousing the flames, but the shadows within them only seemed to grow stronger.

Aric's chest heaved as he struggled to regain control. He felt the sigil on his arm sear with pain, a reminder of the bond he'd formed with Malekith—and of the consequences that came with it.

Slowly, the flames subsided, leaving only the golden orb hovering above them. Aric stared up at it in silence for along moment before lowering his hands, allowing the magic to dissipate.

The room was silent as everyone looked at him—some with fear, others with awe. Olaya's expression was unreadable, her eyes locked on his face.

"I think we could all use a short recess," she said finally, her voice steady. "To . . . process what we've seen."

The leaders filed out in a hushed procession, casting glances at Aric that ranged from uncertain to accusatory.

"Aric." Davin's hand lingered on Aric's arm as they stood together near the exit, his eyes searching. "Are you all right?"

Aric nodded silently—though inwardly he was reeling from not only losing control over his magic but also from feeling so exposed under Davin's unwavering gaze; knowing he'd let down the few allies he had left; knowing how much more complicated this would make things between him and Davin going forward.

But none of it mattered now—not when their world teetered on a knife's edge between order and chaos. All that mattered was stopping what was coming next—even if it meant becoming something other than who—or what—he'd always been.

As the meeting reconvened, the council room was filled with tense murmurs and the scrape of chairs as everyone took their seats. Aric tried to ignore their stares as he and Davin returned to their places.

"We need to decide on a course of action," Townmaster Virida said, her voice cutting through the chatter. "The anomaly is a threat we can't ignore, but we must also consider the safety of Thornhaven and its people."

Olaya nodded in agreement. "Our primary concern is protecting our town and its residents. But if these magical fluctuations are affecting other areas, we must be prepared to defend ourselves."

Cyrus leaned back in his chair with a smirk. "Why bother? We should just hand over that traitor Aric and let him deal with it."

Aric's jaw clenched at Cyrus's words, but before he could respond, Ruta spoke up.

"I trust Aric," she said firmly. "He risked his life to save us from those demons in the forest—and he's been nothing but honest with us since. If he says this anomaly is dangerous, then we need to take him seriously."

A few of the other council members nodded in agreement, though there were still plenty of skeptical glances being cast Aric's way.

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