11. The Tyrant's Move

Chapter 11: The Tyrant’s Move

In the cold, imposing halls of the Iron Keep, King Malric stood before a massive map of the realm, his gauntleted hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Torches cast flickering shadows across the room, their light failing to pierce the darkness that clung to the corners.

A cloaked figure knelt before him, their head bowed low. “My liege,” the figure rasped, “the shadow guards failed to capture the girl. She and the traitor have made it to the Ashen Peaks.”

Malric’s expression remained stoic, but his grip on the sword tightened. “She grows stronger,” he said, his voice a deep rumble. “Even the shadow guards couldn’t contain her?”

The figure hesitated. “Her fire is… unlike anything we’ve seen, my king. She’s more powerful than we anticipated.”

The king’s eyes narrowed, his golden irises glowing faintly. “Then it seems my patience has run its course.”

He turned, his heavy boots echoing across the stone floor as he approached a dais at the center of the chamber. Resting on the dais was a black crystal, its surface swirling with dark energy. Malric placed his hand upon it, and the room seemed to darken further as the crystal pulsed with malevolence.

“Summon the Wraithforge Knights,” he commanded.

The cloaked figure stiffened. “The Wraithforge Knights, sire? But they haven’t been awakened in decades. Their power—”

“—is exactly what we need,” Malric interrupted, his voice cold. “The phoenix bearer is a threat that cannot be underestimated. If she reaches the Temple of Embers, she may unlock its secrets, and I will not allow that to happen.”

The figure bowed deeply. “As you command, my king.”

Malric’s gaze lingered on the crystal as the figure retreated. The artifact was a relic from his conquest of the Shadow Realms, a source of unimaginable power that had cemented his reign over the kingdom. But even with all his strength, the phoenix bearer was a wild card—a flame he could not control.

“She thinks she can challenge me,” he muttered, his lips curling into a sneer. “But she will learn that fire is easily extinguished.”

A voice echoed from the shadows. “Do not underestimate her, Malric.”

He turned sharply to see a woman stepping into the light. She was clad in dark robes, her pale skin glowing faintly as if lit from within. Her eyes were like pools of ink, endless and unreadable.

“Serenya,” he said, his tone dripping with disdain. “What brings you here?”

“The phoenix bearer,” Serenya replied, her voice smooth and calculating. “She is not like the others you’ve faced. Her power is raw, yes, but it is also untamed. If she learns to control it, she could be your undoing.”

Malric’s jaw tightened. “I’m well aware of the stakes.”

“Are you?” Serenya’s lips curved into a faint smile. “You’ve ruled with an iron fist for years, but the phoenix is more than just power. It is rebirth, hope—everything your reign stands against. She could rally the people against you.”

“Let them try,” he growled. “I will crush her, just as I’ve crushed every rebellion that dared to rise against me.”

Serenya tilted her head, amusement flickering in her dark eyes. “You speak with such certainty. But tell me, Malric—do you fear her?”

His eyes burned with anger as he stepped closer. “Fear is a weapon I wield, not something I feel.”

Serenya laughed softly. “We’ll see.” She began to turn, her voice drifting over her shoulder. “I’ll leave you to your preparations, my king. But remember—fire has a way of consuming everything in its path, even the most unyielding stone.”

As the door closed behind her, Malric returned to the map. His eyes fell on the Ashen Peaks, and a cruel smile tugged at his lips.

“Elena may think she’s destined to stand against me,” he said, his voice low. “But destiny is a fragile thing. And I have no intention of letting her rewrite mine.”

He waved a hand over the crystal, its dark energy surging outward. Across the realm, hidden in the depths of an ancient fortress, the Wraithforge Knights stirred from their slumber. Their armor groaned as they rose, their hollow eyes glowing with an eerie blue light.

Malric watched the scene unfold within the crystal’s depths, satisfaction flickering in his golden eyes.

“Elena,” he whispered, “you’ve survived this long. But your fire will burn out soon enough.”

To Be Continued...

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