The palace was a warzone. The Blighted, though no longer led by the terrifying Ash-Eater, still swarmed through the corridors, their numbers seemingly endless. Rhydian, with Lyra by his side, cut a path through the chaos, his movements precise and lethal. He fought with a grim efficiency, protecting her with a fierce, almost possessive instinct that startled her.
They reached the royal chambers, where King Theron and Lord Valerius, along with a handful of loyal guards, had barricaded themselves. The relief on her father's face at seeing Lyra safe was palpable, quickly overshadowed by the grim reality of their situation.
"Thorne," Lyra gasped, breathless from the fight. "He's behind this. He unleashed the Ash-Eater. He spoke of a 'final ritual' and 'sacrifice'!"
King Theron's face paled further. "Thorne? Impossible! He has served this crown for decades!"
"Loyalty can be a fragile thing, Father," Lyra retorted, echoing Valerius's earlier warning. She turned to Rhydian. "Prince, what do you know of this 'Ash-Eater'? And Thorne's ritual?"
Rhydian's golden eyes, now fully human again but still intense, met hers. "The Ash-Eater is not merely a creature; it is a manifestation of ancient, corrupted magic. A void that consumes life and power. My people have legends of it, of a time when it nearly swallowed the world. Thorne seeks to bind it, to use its power to 'cleanse' Serendahl and reshape it in his image." His voice was low, grave. "The 'sacrifice' he spoke of... it is likely a royal bloodline. Yours, Princess."
A gasp went through the small group. Lyra felt a chill deeper than the Ash-Eater's touch. "Why? What does he gain?"
"Power. And control," Rhydian replied, his gaze unwavering. "He believes he can command it, but no mortal can truly control such a force. He will be consumed, and so will your kingdom."
Lord Valerius, recovering from the shock, stepped forward. "We must find him! Stop this ritual!"
"He has a hidden passage in his study," Lyra revealed, recalling Thorne's escape. "It leads somewhere within the palace's ancient foundations. He spoke of 'preparations being complete'."
Rhydian nodded, a grim understanding in his eyes. "The ritual would require a specific location, a nexus of power. The oldest part of the palace, perhaps the crypts or the forgotten dungeons beneath."
A fragile alliance began to form in that besieged chamber. King Theron, though heartbroken by Thorne's betrayal, gave Rhydian full authority to lead the counter-attack. Lyra, despite her lingering distrust, found herself relying on his grim competence. He was the only one who truly understood the enemy they faced.
As Rhydian began to issue orders to the remaining guards, Lyra pulled him aside. "You said the Ash-Eater would reform. How do you know?"
His eyes met hers, and for a moment, the barrier between them seemed to thin. "Because it is not truly killed by conventional means. It is a spirit of consumption, tied to the land, to the despair. It can only be truly banished, or bound. And binding it... that is what Thorne attempts." He paused, his gaze searching hers. "My people have old texts, prophecies. They speak of a ritual, a counter-force. But it requires a great deal."
"What?" Lyra whispered, dread coiling in her stomach.
Rhydian hesitated, then spoke, his voice barely audible. "A union of royal blood and draconic fire. A sacrifice of a different kind."
Lyra's mind reeled. A union of royal blood… her blood. And draconic fire… his. Was this why he had come? Was this marriage, this forced alliance, part of some ancient prophecy to counter the Ash-Eater?
Before she could press him for more, a guard burst in. "Prince! Princess! The Blighted are swarming the lower levels! And we've found a trail of fresh ash leading to the old catacombs beneath the west wing!" The catacombs. The oldest, most forgotten part of the palace. Thorne's ritual was already underway.