Ashes Of The Throne | Part I

Chapter 168 | Is God Watching The World Burn Around Me?

Eko stood at the shoreline, the familiar landscape a jarring contrast to the carnage of the battlefield from which she had been ripped. The ocean lapped at her bloodied ankles, its saltwater stinging her torn skin, while a cool sea breeze swept away clumps of matted hair, its brine-kissed scent filling her lungs—but it did nothing to still the raging storm inside her.

Her gaze drifted upward, locking onto a distant speck—a forlorn planet struggling to shine through a thick wall of oppressive clouds. The feeble morning sun fought to break through, but the clouds, dense and unyielding, kept the darkness alive.

The fading echoes of Matthew's power still clung to her skin like a ghostly caress, persistently gnawing at her thoughts. Beneath that spectral residue, a deeper dread had taken root. She could feel the thunderous beats of his magic—as if he stood right beside her—their bond more intense than ever, even as his raw, unfamiliar power shook her core with its effortless brutality.

Stumbling forward, Eko felt another pulse of power ripple through her body, the water lapping at her feet as disorientation splintered at the sound of ragged moaning. She whirled around, wet sand clinging to her ankles, and beheld the carnage: wounded mages, fallen elders, and bodies scattered along the surf. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears—she felt like a ghost haunting the wrong battlefield.

Then her gaze snapped to Teshia, huddled beside a bloodied man, her trembling hands hovering uncertainly over his wounds. In the moment their eyes met, Teshia froze, her face draining of color, and for an eternity in a heartbeat, neither moved.

"You're... alive?" Teshia whispered, her voice nearly drowned by the crashing waves. Disbelief laced every trembling syllable as she clapped a hand over her mouth. "Sera?" The name fell like both a prayer and a curse.

Eko could only stand there, silent and torn by the misused title. She wasn't Sera—the revered princess of two worlds. She was Eko, a fighter, a woman who had carved out her own existence. She wasn't meant to be here, safely stranded on this desolate shore, where the air reeked of salt and blood—the very trappings of what a princess was supposed to embody. Eko was meant to be in the fray, at the heart of battle alongside her husband, as it had always been.

Her hands curled into tight fists as a fierce, reckless resolve surged through her. She had to go back.

Teshia saw it then—the hardened line of Eko's jaw, the blazing fury in her eyes. Panic flashed across Teshia's face, and she lurched to her feet, her voice high with alarm. "Don't!"

But Eko had already begun to turn, determined and unyielding. She couldn't wait. She couldn't remain a bystander any longer. And Teshia, reading the grim resolve etched on the woman's face, understood all too well.

Ignoring Teshia's plea, Eko thrust her hands forward, raw desperation bleeding into every movement as she willed the magic to return. Sparks flared—a faint, fragile glimmer of power—but they fizzled out before they could take form.

A strangled cry tore from her throat as frustration coiled around her heart. Her nails dug deep into her palms, a futile attempt to stave off the crushing weight of hopelessness. Her magic had never failed her before—not when it mattered most.

"Work, damn it!" Eko screamed, her voice cracking with raw emotion. Sparks danced briefly at her fingertips, then scattered like grains of broken glass. "Please, God!" she begged, each word choked by sobs, her entire body trembling with urgency. "WORK! TAKE ME BACK TO HIM!"

She heard Teshia's sharp intake of breath behind her, felt the quiet, desperate pity radiating from her friend. But Eko couldn't stop. She refused to yield. With one final, all-consuming surge, she poured every ounce of her being into the magic.