Thorns of the Moonlit Throne
Volume 5 — Chapter 2: The Road That Should Not Exist
Writer: Sabbir Ahmed
The road to Velmor appeared at dawn.
It cut through the frost ridges like a scar—stone laid where no stone had ever been before. Arvandor's scouts swore the path had not existed the night prior, yet their maps now accepted it as if it had always been there. Reality, it seemed, was learning to lie convincingly.
Lyriana rode at the front, moonsteel armor catching the pale light. She felt the land resist her presence, not with hostility, but confusion—as though the world itself was uncertain whether she belonged to this version of history.
Aryn rode beside her, quiet. The Shadowmark beneath his sleeve pulsed faintly, reacting to something ahead. "This fragment doesn't erase," he said. "It replaces. It writes over what was… and pretends it's truth."
Eryon emerged from the shadows of a twisted pine, his voice low. "Verse Fragments lack intent, but not desire. They want order—without choice. Control without consent."
As they crossed the final ridge, the air thickened. Sound dulled. Even the wind seemed afraid to move forward.
Where Velmor should have stood, there was a city-shaped absence—structures half-formed, streets leading nowhere, buildings flickering between existence and void. People moved within it, their faces serene, their eyes empty. They lived a story that was no longer theirs.
Lyriana dismounted, heart heavy. "They don't know they've been taken."
"No," Aryn replied. "And if we act carelessly… they may never remember."
The fragment revealed itself at the city's center—a crystalline shard of starlight embedded in the earth, humming with false harmony. Every pulse bent memory, smoothing fear, silencing resistance.
Lyriana stepped forward, crown glowing. "This is not balance," she said. "This is theft."
The shard reacted.
The ground shuddered. The sky fractured into mirrored layers. From the distortion emerged a figure formed of light and script—a Warden of the Fragment, born to protect rewritten reality.
Eryon's shadows coiled. "It's learned to defend itself."
Aryn drew his blade, Shadowmark blazing brighter than it had in months. "Then it's learned too late."
Lyriana raised her hand, voice steady despite the chaos. "We do not conquer this city. We free it."
Above them, the false sky cracked.
And Velmor screamed.