"Beneath" the knife is hidden beneath loyalty. The shadow is beneath the devotion of the heart. The dynasty trembles, and the crown may fall if the appointed guardian fails.The Moonlit Prophecy, Part XV
It had never felt colder in the palace. Even in the height of the day, when sunlight streamed through tall stained-glass windows and servants scurried beneath the vaulting arches, Serenya sensed an icy pulse threading through the stones. It was subtle at first—a glance missed, a note delayed, a guard positioned strangely. However, there was an undercurrent. enduring. Risky. One name circled in her mind. Eryndor.
She had trusted him. More than Kaelen's steel. Past the fire of Lyrian. His shadow had always comforted her in the dark, and his presence was almost imperceptible but undeniably protective. However, the doubtful threads that had been tugging at her heart now united to create something she was unable to ignore. Betrayal is unavoidable. She had felt the movement of the shadow in her bones. --- That evening, she summoned her Guardians to the council room. Not for advice, but for confrontation. Kaelen came first, her armor shining in the last of the light. Lyrian followed, walking slowly and looking at her with apprehension. Last but not least, Eryndor arrived quietly and seemed calm as always, despite the fact that she was uneasy about the sparkle in his eyes.
Serenya started, her voice steady despite her pounding heart, "You have served me well." However, I sense a rift between us, a betrayal from which neither fire nor blade can protect me. In the shadows, one of you has done something to me. Loyalty has been a weapon used by one of you. There was silence in the room. Kaelen's mouth clenched. Lyrian twitched his fingers. Eryndor leaned back with a calm, unreadable expression. "Talk," she ordered. "Or your silence could harm the dynasty." --- With steel in his voice, Kaelen took the first step forward. He said, "I haven't done anything to hurt you, Serenya." "My sword has unquestionably protected you. My loyalty is untarnished. It is not mine if there is betrayal.
Lyrian's voice was next, trembling with urgency. "I… I have nothing to hide. My heart may have spoken where it should not, but my oath remains unbroken. I would lay down my life for you without hesitation." Serenya's gaze fell on Eryndor. And there it was—the subtle twitch, the shadow that did not belong. His voice, when he finally spoke, was smooth, almost musical: "Then it seems, my Queen, you suspect me." Her stomach tightened. "I do." He inclined his head, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Suspicion is wise. But do you wish for the truth?" "Yes," she said, voice cold. "Every secret, every deception, every act against me—I demand it now."
In the torchlight, Eryndor's eyes gleamed. He moved closer, almost too close, and whispered, "Then you'll see how deep the shadows are." He then raised a hand in demonstration rather than threat. Out of a secret pocket came a folded note. It caught Serenya's attention. The words were succinct, exact, and lethal: *The Queen has too much faith in her shadows. Put out the fire. Observe the steel shutter. If her heart falters, the dynasty will collapse. Her heart pounded. She gasped. This was a strategy, not a mere threat. Eryndor had written it himself, too. "You…" she said, her voice trembling. "Do not speak," he said softly, almost tenderly. "You won't comprehend. You are unable to see why what I do is necessary.
With his hand on his sword, Kaelen took a step forward. "What is this, Eryndor? What did you do? Eryndor remained composed. "My Queen, I work for the dynasty. I work for the crown, not for personal desires. I follow the prophecy. I take action to protect what is not yet visible to you. Disbelief and betrayal twisted Lyrian's face. "You tell lies! Did you give this service a call? You use her trust as a weapon, manipulate her, and lie to her! Eryndor's mouth curled slightly. Nevertheless, it is required. To ensure the dynasty's survival, one must act covertly.
It felt like someone had cleaved Serenya's chest. The truth was more exact and scathing than she could have ever imagined, despite her suspicions of whispers, half-truths, and shadows moving beyond her control. The person she had trusted the most, Eryndor, had been secretly planning. The weight of betrayal now hung over every silent moment, every word that was kept hidden, and every unseen movement. --- The following few hours turned into a tempest. To make sure no outside forces were interfering, Serenya gave Kaelen instructions to secure the palace gates. Lyrian was given the task of defending the inner court against both known and unknown dangers to the queen. And she faced Eryndor by herself. She insisted on answers. He didn't fight back. His voice was low, his words deliberate.
"I have been your shadow, Serenya," he said. And it might shadow the very thing it protects. I have acted to ensure your survival and to uphold the dynasty in ways that your good nature could not dictate. My actions are not self-serving. The crown is represented by me. "By conspiring against me?" she asked, her voice trembling with anger and sorrow. "By controlling the pieces, even when the hand manipulating them needs to be concealed." Tears pricked her eyes. Betrayal was not shouted. It involved whispers, delicate movements, and skillful manipulations. Besides, she had never expected it from him.
Then, with a taut expression and a drawn sword, Kaelen entered. "Eryndor," he said, "you will answer for this." "The Queen cannot be attacked by any shadow without repercussions." Eryndor's eyes locked with Kaelen's. "I don't hit. I lead. I am not holding the knife; it is necessary. With fire in his eyes, Lyrian joined them. And what if your "guidance" causes her to fall? If the dynasty is destroyed by your secrets? Eryndor had a slender, icy smile. The prophecy is then realized. And I'll have fulfilled my obligation. The tension was broken by Serenya's voice. "Enough!" Each of the three men hesitated.
Her voice was shaking as she said, "You speak of necessity, of prophecy, of shadow." However, you mention treachery. One of you has gone too far. And IThe burden of the crown pressing down on her mind caused her to falter. She could not yet see the knife that threatened to topple the dynasty. Eryndor then moved closer, lowering his head just a little bit, almost silently. He whispered, "I am the knife." --- The realization struck like a blast of ice. Serenya stumbled back. Anger and sorrow flared as Lyrian sprang forward. Kaelen's sword twitched in his hand.
Eryndor, however, remained composed, patient, and shadowed. He had betrayed her—not with steel yet, but with strategy, manipulation, and secrets; he had moved pieces in silence, tested hearts, and guided decisions in ways she could hardly comprehend. --- The chamber appeared to close in around them; the flames danced, and the shadows stretched across the walls, mocking her. Serenya pressed her hand to her chest, her heart pounding—not just from fear, but also from grief and disbelief; her guardians were broken; her trust was shattered; and the dynasty—the Moonlit Dynasty—was on the verge of destruction.
Once again, Eryndor's lips curled slightly, a faint smile that hinted at danger as well as devotion. Serenya became aware that the war had just begun at that very moment. Since revealing a knife was just the beginning. And more shadows stirred in the darkness.