Shadow Over the Heavenly Throne

Inside a dark chamber thick with incense and cold air, Vaelin sat with one leg thrown over the other, clearly irritated.

"Seriously? You cut the transmission? Right when things were finally getting interesting?" His voice dripped with sarcasm, a disbelieving smirk tugging at his lips. "That new guy... the one who showed up. Things were just starting to heat up."

The masked man didn’t reply immediately. Steam curled from the teacup in his hand as he rotated it slowly, as if weighing each word before it left his mouth.

"If the transmission had continued, he might have traced it. And I’m guessing you don’t want him paying us a visit first."

"And who exactly was he supposed to be?" Vaelin muttered. "That so-called ‘new guy’?"

The masked man looked up from his tea.

"Kaen."

Vaelin scoffed, then let out a short laugh, as if he’d just heard a bad joke.

"Oh sure. And next you’ll tell me a dragon's sleeping beneath our feet."

"Kaen," the masked man repeated calmly. "The same Kaen whose name the elders won’t speak. The one whose presence erases entire sects without warning."

Vaelin's laughter died instantly. A heavy silence settled over the room.

"So it really was him..." he murmured, mostly to himself.

"That’s why I ended the transmission. Not out of fear. Out of caution."

Vaelin, now far more serious, narrowed his eyes.

"Regardless... your plan failed. No one died. And your little pawn from the Sect? Sacrificed for nothing."

The masked man only smiled. Softly. Almost amused.

"Sometimes, you sacrifice a pawn to force the king to move."

For a moment, no one spoke. Then he set his teacup down and leaned back in his chair.

"Tell me something..." His voice was calm, but there was a pull to it. "What do you think is the most powerful weapon in this world?"

Vaelin snorted.

"Violence. Always has been. In this world, strength is truth."

Rahn raised a brow and spoke softly:

"Maybe... control. Manipulation. When you make people act against themselves... and they don’t even realize they’ve already lost."

The masked man’s smile widened.

"Good answers. But no. The most powerful weapon is information."

Rahn's gaze lifted, a flicker of understanding lighting in his eyes.

"Of course..." he whispered, more to himself than to the others. "Information gives advantage without needing force. It’s not a sword you raise. It’s a dagger that sinks in before anyone sees the blade."

He glanced at Vaelin.

"Whoever holds the information doesn’t just know what people think or feel. They guide them. Influence their choices. Build their fears... and shatter their trust. No battle. No blood."

The masked man nodded.

"With the right information, you can predict every move, every decision. And if you can predict... you win before the war even begins."

Rahn stilled. A slow smile spread across his face.

"So that was your plan all along."

The masked man nodded again, never losing his smile.

Vaelin looked between them, clearly confused.

"What the hell are you two talking about?"

"It was never about killing them," Rahn said, his tone patronizing as he glanced back at Vaelin. "It was about seeing if that man... Kaen... would make a move."

The masked man gave a slight nod.

"I needed to know if there was anything left in this world that could force Kaen to make a move."

Vaelin didn’t speak for a while. Then he narrowed his eyes.

"What is it about those girls that made him react?"

The masked man looked at him...

And said nothing.

Just smiled wider.

"And even if he hadn’t reacted," he added after a pause, glancing away, "they would die at Rhaegar's hands. Either way... it would’ve benefited us."

Rahn grinned.

"Win-win. Classic."

The masked man rose slowly, stretching like he’d just closed a chapter years in the making.

"Time for the next move."

"Which is?"

His tone softened, but steel glinted beneath the words.

"We’re visiting the rest of the  guardians. Some of them..." he paused, choosing his words, "will be thrilled to see me again."

Rahn looked at him differently now. He understood. This game had been set long ago.

***

The massive gates to the Royal Palace trembled and slowly opened, allowing passage to a carriage drawn by four silver-maned beasts. The guards bowed low, silent. Veynessa and Calista stepped out, exchanging a glance that said more than words ever could—exhaustion, relief, the quiet weight of coming home.

They crossed the main courtyard.

"Sometimes," Calista muttered, "being royalty has its perks. One name, and boom—you get a beast-drawn carriage worth more than most clans."

Veynessa gave a slight nod.

"That merchant still made a killing. Sold it for triple its value."

She snorted quietly. No more needed saying.

At the end of the corridor stood a rune-covered gate, vibrating with spiritual energy. Veynessa gave it a glance, and the runes lit up in blue, parting to open a portal to another dimension—their true home.

They stepped through in silence.

Inside the hidden realm, their feet touched polished white marble. No mundane corridors here—just towering pillars inscribed with golden patterns, the air thrumming softly with Qi. Crystal chandeliers floated above without supports, suspended by invisible formations. Servants vanished into the shadows at their approach, granting the royal women privacy.

This part of the palace was sacred. It breathed history—the kind spoken of in whispers.

They stepped past the threshold, tired yet poised as always.

"Huh. Interesting," Calista said with a stretch. "Your husband didn’t even bother welcoming you back from a mission that nearly killed us. Royal affection at its finest."

Veynessa raised a brow, but before she could answer, a voice cut through the air—and her heart clenched.

All thoughts vanished, replaced by guilt. Sharp. Raw. Only now, seeing her daughter, did she fully understand how reckless it had been to insist on taking that mission. These weren’t times when children could just fend for themselves. Sylphia still needed her mother.

"Mom!"

In a blink, Veynessa was there, wrapping her tightly in her arms.

"Did you miss me?" she whispered.

Sylphia nodded, caught off guard by the sudden flood of affection. She’d missed her, but hadn’t expected her mother to drop everything just to hold her.

"How was the trip?" she asked softly, eyes never leaving hers.

Veynessa smiled, calm on the surface.

"Everything we needed to do... is done."

Sylphia gave her a sidelong glance. The hug lasted too long, too intense to be just a greeting. There was a shadow here. Something had gone wrong. She didn’t ask. Not yet. She simply slipped her hand into her mother’s and held tight.

Calista scoffed.

"Told you not to worry. If anything happened, I would’ve protected your mom."

Her eyes shifted to the quiet girl nearby.

"And you?" she asked with a raised brow. "Who’s this?"

Sylphia stepped back half a pace but held her ground.

"This is Shion," she said simply, nodding toward the girl beside her.

Then she looked at her mother, voice soft but firm.

"Mom... Shion has something to tell you."