The grand hall of the palace was cloaked in silence. King Visernes sat upon his throne, Artheon's ominous words still echoing in his mind. The torches flickered weakly, as if even the shadows were listening.
Suddenly, the massive doors burst open. A weary messenger stumbled in, his clothes stained with blood. Falling to his knees, he gasped for breath.
"Your Majesty… in the south… villages are vanishing one by one. People speak of shadows emerging from the caves. At night, a black flame rises and covers the skies…"
A murmur spread across the hall. King Visernes turned sharply to Artheon.
"Is this the darkness you spoke of?"
The sorcerer slowly nodded. "It is only the beginning… but the shadow of darkness grows stronger."
Tension swept through the royal family. Harlax crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing at Mamir.
"No matter how clever you pretend to be, your blood will never be noble. You are the son of a common woman. A man of such low blood cannot rule Harland's future. Perhaps this curse has fallen upon us because your tainted blood flows within the royal line!"
Mamir leapt to his feet, fury burning in his eyes.
"It was my so-called 'tainted blood' that saved our soldiers on the battlefield! You, with your cowardice, nearly cost the kingdom its crown!"
A cold silence filled the chamber. King Visernes frowned but did not interfere, as if he wished to see the true faces of his sons.
Visrok, however, paid no attention to their quarrel. His thoughts wandered elsewhere. The parchment he had secretly read the night before came vividly to mind:
"The price of immortality is death."
He drew a deep breath. Perhaps what slumbered within that cave… was the very secret their ancestor Ostomas had left behind.