"Do you think he noticed?" Theryn asked while perched on the edge of a building
"Probably, I dont know he's only a kid." Aetheron responded from behind him
"Should we be doing this"
"Dont doubt yourself when you've already gone this far."
"Hmm. Also, do you think Nyx has noticed us?"
"Of course, she did, why she hasn't acted yet I dont know."
"Lets go, we've wasted enough time. Let's return now." Aetheon jumps off the roof and opens a portal under him
Theryn sighs as he also jumps off the ledge looking where Kyros once was.
The halls of the palace was enormous by any standard from towering pillars to stone giant knights imbued with Nyx's mana and divine essence
Honestly if someone said this place can detach itself and form into an army, I wouldn't be surprised. From 8 foot knight statues to the servants, those that reside in the palace could wipe out a mid sized kingdom without including nyx herself.
As Kyros and Kyra walked through the palace, greeting some servants and accepting snacks from others. They approached the atrium leading to Nyx's Throne room. The hall that led to Nyx's throne was long and wide, and the floor was made up of polished black tile and the lighting above made it look as if you were walking amongst the stars.
Kyros and Kyra fixed their clothes as they walked up the stairs within the Atrium leading to the throne room, passing portraits of themselves with their mother. They stepped in unison, and they approached the door where the guards were stationed outside the door. The guards did not move at first. Then, as the twins stepped closer, the guards at the entrance crossed their spears as the twins drew near, then lowered them in unison.
"Prince Kyros. Princess Kyra," one announced, voice steady and reverent.
The guards bowed their heads as the twins passed, expressions softening just enough to show familiarity beneath duty. One of them allowed a small smile. Another nodded, respectful and proud to see the prince and princess.
They opened the doors to the throne room. The throne room opened into a wide, silent chamber, its size revealed slowly rather than all at once. The ceiling rose high into shadow, but not endlessly, and the walls were carved from the same dark stone as the rest of the palace, smooth and cool, etched with faint patterns that echoed the stars seen throughout the halls.
The light within was low and steady, gathered from unseen sources, casting soft reflections across the polished floor. It did not shimmer or move, only rested there, as though the room preferred stillness. Sound seemed to fade quickly, footsteps dulling the moment they touched the stone.
At the far end of the chamber sat Nyx herself upon her throne. She was still and composed, as though the throne and the room had been shaped around her rather than the other way around. Darkness gathered naturally at her sides, not as shadow cast, but as presence, subtle and unmoving.
Her throne rose beneath her in dark stone and shadow, its surface marked with faint star-like inlays that glimmered softly in the low light. Nyx rested upon it with quiet authority, her posture effortless, timeless. She did not need to look imposing. Although she still did at times.
Kyra immediately let go of her brother's hand and ran towards her mother, her footsteps breaking the stillness of the chamber. The sound echoed only briefly before fading. Nyx shifted then, just slightly opening her eyes, rising from her throne as Kyra reached her. She wrapped her arms around Kyra.
Kyros lingers there for a moment, then walks up to his mother and embraces her in a hug as well.
"Did you both eat yet?"
"No mother"
Nyx leads them to a private dining room.
The private dining room was a sharp contrast to the cold obsidian throne room. Here, the walls were lined with soft tapestries, and the air smelled of honeyed bread and roasted meats rather than star-dust and ancient stone. Nyx sat at the head of the table, her robes no longer shimmering with the terrifying light of the void, but draped simply like a woman at home.
"Eat," Nyx said, sliding a plate toward Kyros. "Before you try to fight any more inanimate objects. Then you say that the dining table looked at you funny."
Kyros grinned, reaching for a piece of bread. "It's a suspicious table, Mom. Very sturdy. Good for hitting"
"He's just saying that because he's hungry," Kyra added, skillfully cutting her fruit. She nudged a bowl of grapes toward her brother. "He always gets aggressive when he skips lunch."
"I didn't skip it! I just... redistributed my time," Kyros defended himself, his mouth half-full.
Nyx watched them, her violet eyes softening in a way the rest of the world never got to see. For a moment, the weight of the Pantheons and the shadow of the Crownless King felt miles away. "Redistributed it to bother Theryn? The man has enough Oaths to manage without an eight-year-old questioning his age every five minutes."
Kyros paused, his bread halfway to his mouth. "You knew?"
"I am Night itself, Kyros," Nyx said softly, leaning forward. "There is very little that happens in the shadows of this city that I do not feel. Especially when those shadows involve my son."
"Is he in trouble?" Kyra asked, her voice dropping its playful tone. She looked between her mother and her brother, her instinct to protect Kyros already flaring.
"No," Nyx promised, reaching out to rest a hand over Kyra's. "But he is... noticed. And in this world, being noticed is a heavy thing to carry."
Kyros looked down at the table. For a second, the polished wood seemed to ripple. He saw his reflection—just for a flash—and those extra eyes seemed to blink back at him from the grain of the wood. He felt a phantom weight on his head, like a crown made of lead.
"I can carry it," Kyros muttered, more to himself than to them.
Kyra bumped her shoulder against his. "You don't have to carry it alone. That's what I'm for."
Kyros looked at his sister. Her smile was the only thing in the palace that felt more real than the whispers in his head. He forced a grin back. "Fine. You can carry the heavy stuff. I'll carry the snacks."
Nyx let out a small, rare laugh. "A fair division of labor."
She looked at her children, and for a split second, a shadow of genuine fear crossed her face—the fear of a mother who knows the clock is ticking. "Stay close to each other. Always. The world outside these walls doesn't understand 'kindness.' It only understands power."
"We will," the twins said in unison.
As the twins left the dining room, their laughter echoed down the long, obsidian hallway. Nyx stood by the table, her hand resting on the back of Kyros's empty chair. The warmth of the room seemed to drain away the moment the children were out of sight.
She didn't turn around when the shadows in the corner of the room began to thicken, curdling like sour milk.
"You're late, Thalos," Nyx said, her voice dropping the maternal softness it had held only moments ago.
A man stepped from the dark. He wasn't a servant, and he wasn't a god of Nightreign. He was dressed in robes that shimmered with the shifting colors of a prism
"The Council is calling for a session, Nyx," Thalos said, his voice heavy. "The high pantheons are restless. They say the balance is tilting. They say the North has felt a tremor that shouldn't exist."
Nyx's grip tightened on the chair. "Let them feel it. My son is a child, not a political bargaining chip."
"He is the son of the Unnamed," Thalos reminded her, taking a cautious step forward. "To them, he is not a child. He is a crack in the foundation of reality. They are asking for a summit. A meeting of all three pantheons to... discuss the lineage of Nightreign."
Nyx turned then, her violet eyes burning with a light that could swallow stars. "If they want a summit, I will give them one. But tell Zeus, tell Odin, and tell the Sun-Lord this: If a single one of their 'Watchers' steps foot within my city walls, I will turn their precious heavens into a graveyard."
Thalos bowed his head, but his expression remained unreadable. "I will deliver the message. But be warned, Sovereign... they aren't just watching anymore. They are planning."
Thalos vanished into a ripple of distorted air.
Nyx stood alone in the quiet dining room. She looked out the window, past the spires of the city, toward the distant, jagged horizon of the Shattered Spine.
In the garden below, she could hear Kyros shouting playfully as he chased Kyra through the moonlight.
Nyx didn't join them. Instead, she raised her hand and whispered a word of power. The shadows of the palace rose like a Great Wall, thicker and darker than ever before, sealing the gates.
She was a mother. She was a Queen. And she knew, deep in her immortal marrow, that the peace she had fought so hard to build was starting to bleed.