Page 79 of Sundered By Fate

"I'll ask you one more time," King Aster said, stepping down from his throne. "What exactly are you accusing me of?"

Aric's heart sank. The rulers were in on it together; he was sure of it. All around him, the courtiers were watching, waiting for his answer. Even if Aric could face the king's wrath, he didn't know if he had the strength to defy Valerian as well.

But he had to try. He had to force the conspiracy into the light.

"My elite mages," Valerian said loftily, "have been stationed throughout the city for months now, gathering intelligence and preparing for just such an assault."

Aric's heart stopped. He kept his gaze forward, afraid to betray anything of the storm raging within him.

"They are the most powerful and skilled members of the Silver Tower, trained in covert operations and magic suppression. I propose we unleash them now, to strike at the demons while they are still disorganized and reeling from their attack."

The room fell silent as all eyes turned to King Aster, the air thick with untapped potential that prickled Aric’s skin.

"Very well, Lord Regent," he said, his voice soft and deadly. "You have my permission to proceed."

Aric's mind was racing, trying to make sense of what was happening. What were these elite forces of Valerian's? Did it have something to do with those plans he found in Valerian's workshop? If Valerian was indeed working with Sylthris andwhoever was pulling her strings, if they were behind the demon invasion, then what did they hope to gain from it?

It was too much to process, too many threads to untangle all at once. But one thing was clear: Valerian's "elite mages" were a threat, one that Aric needed to stop at all costs.

King Aster—a ruse, a deception, Sylthris's twisted game—leaned back in his seat. "Thank you, Lord Regent. Your actions will surely save us all."

The advisers nodded in reluctant agreement, their desperation a palpable thing. But Aric's blood ran cold. Astaria was being handed over to Sylthris and her forces, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

He reached for his magic, but his golden fire was an ember, snuffed out by the inhibitor's grip. Valerian's rage simmered just below the surface, but there was victory in his eyes. Victory over Aric.

Aric's hands clenched into fists, his nails biting into his palms. He couldn't let this happen. He couldn't let Sylthris and Valerian's scheme unfold unchecked. But with his magic locked away, he was powerless, a ghost haunting the palace halls.

He had to think. There had to be a way to stop them. A way to break through the darkness and reach the light. But the clock was ticking, and he was out of time.

Aric wrenched one hand free of the guard's grip, driving his elbow into a chin. He kicked out with one leg, catching another guard in the stomach, and managed a few steps toward Aster's wretched form.

"Aric!" The guards shouted his name, but he was beyond caring. All he could see was the threat before him, the dark shadow poisoning the heart of Astaria.

He was almost to the throne when the guards tackled him from behind, driving him to the ground. His head struck the stone floor, stars bursting behind his eyes, and the inhibitor onhis wrist seemed to tighten, mocking him with its cruel grasp. He fought against the guards' hold, but they were too many, their grip too strong. They forced him onto his back, pinning his arms and legs, and he was trapped, unable to move, unable to save the kingdom he'd sworn to protect.

Aster leaned over him, his face a mask of hatred. "I should have known you would be a problem."

Aric was about to reply when a deafening roar filled the air, a sound like the world being torn asunder. The palace trembled, the floor buckling beneath them, and then they were falling, the world spinning out of control.

The explosion threw Aric into the air, the force of it tearing him from the guards' grasp. He hit the ground hard, the stone floor shattering beneath him, and then he was rolling, tumbling, everything a blur of noise and light and pain.

When he came to a stop, the world was upside down, the air filled with smoke and screams. He could taste blood in his mouth, feel it trickling down his face, but it was the least of his concerns. The palace was collapsing down around them, great chunks of stone falling from the ceiling, the walls buckling and crumbling.

He had to move. He had to get out of there. But his body felt like it weighed a ton, his limbs refusing to obey his commands. He tried to stand, but the ground was shifting beneath him, the floor tilting at a crazy angle. All he could do was crawl, dragging himself across the shattered tiles.

He had to find the others. Valerian, Sylthris, King Aster. They were all in danger, all at risk. He had to warn them, had to stop whatever evil had been unleashed upon the palace.

But as he struggled to his feet, a figure emerged from the smoke, their silhouette backlit by the burning debris.

Aric's blood chilled in his veins. It was one of Valerian's soldiers.

An Ixion soldier, clad in shadowed glass and silver.

But that was impossible. Truly impossible.

Aric scrambled backwards, his boots slipping on the blood-slicked floor. His heart was pounding in his ears, drowning out the chaos around him. He couldn't look away from the soldier's face, those dark eyes that had haunted his dreams for so long.

Malekith.

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