Page 62 of Bound In Shadow

Kalthos strides forward, staff radiating arcane power. He hurls a bolt of sizzling energy that rips through my illusions, dispersing some phantasms. I reel, light-headed. Xelith dashes across the courtyard to block Kalthos’s second bolt. The air crackles with the collision of shadow and arcane force.

“Traitor prince!” Kalthos snarls. “We should’ve executed you long ago!”

Xelith grimaces, shadows flickering under the barrage. “You had your chance,” he rasps, voice fierce. “Now you face your own hypocrisy!”

They lock in a deadly dance, swirling magic lighting the courtyard with purple arcs. I try to conjure illusions to aid Xelith, but Sharavel intercepts me, chanting a spell that sends a blade of shimmering force careening my way. I fling myself aside, illusions sputtering under the pressure.

A flicker at the side caught my eyes, I see orchard rebels clashing with fortress guards. The clang of steel echoes, men shouting, spells sizzling. Fear pulses in my veins. We might be overwhelmed if we can’t break the council’s nerve soon.

Sharavel steps closer, a malevolent smile twisting her lips. “Your illusions may disorient my men, but I’ve studied your trickery. I won’t fall for it so easily.”

My stomach knots. She’s likely prepared wards or has the mental fortitude to resist illusions. But I still have enthrallment. My lips part, voice trembling with the siren undertones. “Yield, Sharavel,” I command, weaving enthrallment into each syllable.

A flicker of confusion crosses her face, but she pushes back with a hiss, pressing a palm to a brooch at her throat. It glows faintly, repelling part of my enthrallment. My heart sinks.She’s wearing a warded talisman.

“Clever,” I grit out, illusions swirling around me in a last-ditch attempt to obscure her line of sight. She conjures a crescent of arcane blades, slicing through the illusions with a savage motion.

I brace, about to fling myself aside, when a swirl of shadow-laced air knocks Sharavel off balance. Xelith appears from behind, face pale and furious. He releases a wave of shadow thattangles around her ankles, forcing her to stagger. Kalthos lunges to defend her, staff raised, but Takar blocks him, sword striking.

Relief floods me.Xelith saw I was in trouble.I push illusions again, layering phantasms around the dais, forcing the remaining guards to see monstrous shapes or swirling voids. Some drop their weapons in terror. Others lash out blindly.

A wild cheer erupts from the orchard rebels as they gain ground. My heart leaps.We might actually break through.

Then a thunderous voice booms from the fortress gates. “Archers, fire!”

I whirl, illusions scattering. A row of archers on the battlements looses a volley of arrows down into the courtyard. Screams pierce the air. My illusions can’t stop physical projectiles. Horror clenches my throat as orchard rebels crumble.We need to end this now.

Xelith roars an order to his men, shadows coalescing into a protective dome overhead. It’s partial, but it intercepts some arrows. Takar shouts for the orchard rebels to fall back into cover behind broken pillars.We’re pinned.

Nyrus emerges in the midst of the chaos, a sadistic grin on his face. He summons a bolt of arcane lightning, flinging it at Lysandra—at me. I dodge, illusions flickering wildly. But exhaustion weighs heavily on me. My enthrallment saps my energy, illusions disorient me as much as them. My knees nearly buckle.

“Lysandra!” Xelith cries, rushing to intercept Nyrus’s second attack. Shadows lash out, colliding with the arc of lightning. The explosive clash throws them both back. Xelith lands hard, groaning. My heart lurches.

I stumble to him, illusions fading. Nyrus laughs, raising his hand for another strike.No.My entire being rebels. Summoning the last reserves of my siren power, I step between Nyrus and Xelith, voice echoing with unstoppable force.

“Cease!” I cry, enthrallment pulsing in every syllable.

A wave of invisible pressure ripples across the courtyard. Guards freeze mid-strike, orchard rebels pause in startled awe. Even Nyrus staggers, arcane energy sputtering in his hands. He fights it, face contorted, but for a moment, he’s locked in place. The archers falter, arrows dipping.

An eerie hush descends, broken only by ragged breathing. My entire body shakes from the strain of channeling that much enthrallment. My vision tunnels, black spots dancing at the edges. But I hold on, pushing the enthralling chord deeper into my voice.

“All of you—drop your weapons,” I command, heart hammering.

Weapons clatter. Some guards collapse to their knees, eyes glazed. Kalthos trembles, staff slipping from his grasp as Takar’s blade draws near. Sharavel staggers, pressing a hand to her ward talisman. Nyrus alone grits his teeth, half resisting, though I see his arms shaking violently.

Pain spears my head, the cost of weaving illusions and enthrallment at once.I can’t maintain this for long.Sweat beads on my brow, arms shaking with exertion. Xelith, still on the ground, stares at me in awe and fear. Takar stands guard, sword poised to protect us both.

Catching my breath, I force the enthrallment one last step. “We are not your slaves or your prey,” I say, voice trembling with raw power. “From this day, the farmland stands free. If any council loyalist dares to violate that freedom, we will return—stronger than you can imagine. Am I clear?”

A ripple of fearful agreement passes through enthralled guards and terrified nobles. Some nod frantically. Others stand mute in the thrall’s haze.

At the dais, Kalthos exhales shakily. “You… you cannot hold us all in thrall forever.”

I grit my teeth, illusions flickering as my stamina wanes. “No,” I admit. “But you’ve seen enough to know we won’t be bent to your will again.”

Nyrus snarls, still half resisting. “You’d threaten the entire council? You’ll be hunted across Protheka for this!”

My legs threaten to give out, but I hold firm.Let them hunt.We bought ourselves a chance. If we remain any longer, we risk a second wave of archers or the wards that might break my enthrallment entirely.

---