The torches burned low in the Hall of Judgment. Shadows stretched across the marble floor like dark serpents coiling beneath the golden pillars. King Heidra sat upon his throne, the ruby crown glinting faintly in the dim light. Around him, the eight knights and advisors gathered once more — faces half-hidden by the flickering glow.
The air was tense, heavy with the scent of incense and iron.
Peter, the commander of the royal guard, stood first. His armor gleamed, but his eyes were wary. "My lord, we have scouted the northern path. The mountains are treacherous — steep, icy, and haunted by beasts unseen since the Great Flood. We will need supplies and more men."
Heidra waved a hand. "Take what you need. I want no delay. The Orb lies beyond those peaks, and I will not let time or fear hold us."
Marley, the storm mage, spoke next. Sparks of blue magic flickered at his fingertips as he leaned forward. "Majesty, the weather itself seems to resist our movement. Lightning has been striking without clouds, and the northern winds howl with voices. It is as though the skies themselves warn us."
Heidra's eyes glinted. "Then let the skies learn their place. No wind can bend the will of a king."
A murmur rippled through the council.
Mandy, the healer, broke the silence. "My king, forgive me, but the stories of Erdriel are older than Zorenthia itself. If she truly guards the Orb, then she is no mere sorceress. Her power may come from the gods. This is not a war we can win by the sword."
Heidra's jaw tightened. "Then we will win it by fire."
From his corner, Denku, the scholar and archivist, unrolled a scroll and placed it upon the table. "Your Majesty," he said softly, "these records date back ten thousand years. The Orb was once used by a king named Altherion — a ruler consumed by his own desire for immortality. The moment he touched it, his flesh turned to ash, and his spirit was trapped between worlds. Erdriel became its guardian to prevent such madness from spreading again."
Heidra leaned forward, his gaze hard. "Then perhaps it is time the orb had a new master — one with the strength to wield it properly."
At the far end of the table, Morzeal, the war general, crossed his arms. "With all respect, my king, we have fought men, beasts, and armies. But to fight the unseen? That is not a war — it is a curse. Even soldiers fear what cannot bleed."
Kebo, the youngest knight, clenched his fist. "Fear is a tool of the weak," he said boldly. "If our king commands us to fight a goddess, then I say we fight!"
Morzeal glared at him. "Boy, you have never seen magic tear through an army. When the moon's power falls, even courage turns to dust."
Before they could argue further, Endro stepped forward. His face was pale, his eyes haunted. "Enough," he said. "There are things you do not understand. Erdriel is not our enemy. Once, long ago, she walked among men — teaching them the ways of the light. But greed twisted their hearts. Kings hunted her for her power, and so she vanished beyond the mountains."
He turned toward Heidra, voice trembling. "Majesty, she will not harm you unless you give her reason. But if you try to take what she guards, she will unleash the wrath of heaven itself."
The hall fell silent.
Heidra rose from his throne. The firelight danced across his armor, and his shadow stretched tall upon the wall. "Endro," he said, his tone sharp, "you speak of her as if you know her."
The old man bowed his head. "I once did, my king. Before you were born."
A cold murmur swept through the council.
Heidra's voice lowered, dangerous. "Then tell me — what is she? Woman or witch?"
"Neither," Endro said quietly. "She is what remains when the gods abandon the world."
Heidra stepped down from his throne and circled him slowly. "And yet you kept this from me?"
"I feared your ambition," Endro replied. "And I fear it still."
The king's eyes flashed with fury. "You will hold your tongue, old man, or I'll burn the truth from your bones."
Before Heidra could raise his hand, Prince Adi entered the hall, unannounced. The torches flickered as he strode forward. "Father," he said, "this is madness. The people whisper that we march against a goddess. What if they lose faith?"
Heidra turned sharply. "Faith is for the weak. Power builds kingdoms."
"And love keeps them standing," Adi replied quietly.
The words hung in the air. For a moment, even the torches seemed to dim.
Heidra's expression softened slightly. "You are young, my son. You speak of love as if it can shield men from death. But when the fires of war rise, love burns first."
Adi looked at his father with sadness. "Then perhaps your fire has already burned too long."
Without another word, he turned and left the hall.
Heidra watched him go, jaw tight. For a moment, doubt flickered in his eyes — but pride quickly smothered it. He turned back to the council. "Prepare the men. We leave at dawn. Let no fear dwell in this court. By the time the next moon rises, the Orb of Eternity will be mine."
As the council dispersed, Endro lingered near the great door. Siegel, his daughter, stood waiting in the corridor, her eyes filled with tears. "He will not listen," she whispered.
Endro nodded grimly. "No. But soon, his pride will meet the moon."
Far away, under that same moon, Erdriel stood upon a mountain ridge, the stars swirling around her like silver dust. Her eyes closed as she felt the pull of destiny — the fire of the king drawing nearer.
"The time has come," she whispered. "Let the fire walk into the light… and be undone."
The wind carried her words across the mountains, through the forests, and into the dreams of men. In Zorenthia, even the fires in the palace hearths flickered low, as though bowing before a power greater than flame itself.