Throne of Ash and Shadows

Chapter 11 Katya Vasiliev

I walked into Ometz's study, my mind still reeling from the confrontation with Vlad. Not only had I glimpsed my brother's deepest fears—fears that clung to him like shadows—but something else had unsettled me. Ometz's secrets. His dealings with a power far older and far more dangerous than I had imagined. Dark magic. Ancient forces. And then, the offer. An alliance. Vlad, the commander of Avernia's army, was asked to bring this proposition to our father, the king.

I could still hear Vlad's words echoing in my mind, but it was Ometz's that haunted me the most. His quiet, controlled voice, always full of affection for me, now tinged with an urgency I had never seen before. He wasn't telling me everything. I could feel it.

As I stepped into the room, Ometz sat with his back to me, gazing out of the wide window that overlooked the gardens. When he turned his chair around and laid eyes on me, he smiled, the warmth in his expression easing some of the tension in my chest. He rose from his seat with a graceful ease, crossing the room to greet me.

"Amica mea..." he whispered, brushing his lips against my forehead, his voice as tender as ever.

"Hey," I murmured, sinking into the chair opposite him. My eyes followed him as he returned to his seat, the soft clink of his whiskey glass as it touched the table filling the silence between us.

He took a sip, studying me over the rim of his glass. "Are you ready?" he asked, his tone measured, careful. His eyes searched mine, as if he already knew what weighed heavily on my mind.

I swallowed hard, trying to gather my thoughts, my resolve. There were so many questions, so many doubts swirling in my head. "Veritas?" I asked him, needing to know that whatever came next would be the truth.

Ometz smiled softly and nodded. "Veritas semper," he replied, the promise hanging between us like a thread waiting to be pulled.

He leaned forward, placing the glass on the desk before him, and folded his hands, his gaze growing serious. "There are threats beyond the borders of our kingdoms, Katya. Threats older than the war between our people. Dark magic stirs, ancient forces long thought forgotten are awakening. The destruction of the Heartstone has weakened the fabric of the world in ways we have yet to fully understand. If we continue to fight, we'll be too weak to face what's coming."

His words hung in the air like a storm gathering on the horizon, heavy and ominous. The warmth in his voice had given way to something far more grave, something that chilled me to the bone. I felt the weight of it press down on my chest, and despite myself, I shivered.

"Verum?" I asked quietly, needing confirmation, though I already knew it was true.

Ometz's gaze softened, but the weight of his words didn't falter. "Yes, verum—it's true."

He paused for a moment, as if considering how much to reveal, how much of the truth he could give me without overwhelming me. But I could see it in his eyes—he knew there was no holding back anymore.

"I've asked for assistance from magicians," he continued, his voice lowering as though he feared the very walls of the study might listen. "Practitioners of old magic. Magic that has been outlawed in most kingdoms for centuries—including Caldoria."

My breath caught in my throat, and I stared at him in disbelief. The old magic. The kind of power that had once brought entire kingdoms to their knees, that had driven the world into chaos before it was sealed away, forbidden, its practitioners exiled or worse. I had only ever heard whispers of it, tales of magicians who could bend the fabric of reality itself, wielding power so unpredictable and dangerous that even the strongest of mages feared it.

"You've been working with them?" I whispered, my heart pounding in my chest. "Ometz, that magic... it's too dangerous."

His gaze hardened, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. "I know it's dangerous, Katya. But we don't have a choice. Even if Avernia and Caldoria unite, we will still be too weak. The power we face is unlike anything we've ever seen. It's ancient, far older than our kingdoms. And it's growing."

I shook my head, struggling to process his words. "But... if you can't control it—if it's unstable—how can you be sure it won't destroy us?"

He sighed deeply, his shoulders sagging as he leaned back in his chair. "I can't be sure. That's the risk we have to take. I've been collecting artifacts—pieces of that ancient magic, relics of power that can help us. But they are unpredictable. We've tried to harness their strength, but each one comes with its own price. The more we use them, the more we lose control."

His voice trailed off, and for a moment, I saw the weariness in his eyes—the weight of his decisions, the burden of responsibility that had been placed on his shoulders. He was trying to protect us, trying to save our kingdoms from a threat none of us had even realized was coming. But at what cost?

I glanced down at my hands, my thoughts racing. The Heartstone. The destruction of the Heartstone had fractured the world's magic, weakened it, twisted it in ways that were still unraveling. And Ometz was right—the world felt different. The stars, the winds, even time itself seemed to shift, to bend. The old magic was waking. And the only way to stop it, the only way to truly kill it, might be to break the Heartstone entirely—destroying not just the ancient magic, but weakening all magic in the world.

I clenched my fists, my knuckles turning white. If the Heartstone was destroyed... what would happen to us? What would happen to the magic that sustained our people, our way of life?

"You're risking everything," I whispered, my voice trembling. "You're risking everyone."

Ometz's jaw tightened, and for the first time, I saw the cracks in his calm façade. "I know," he said softly. "I know what's at stake, Katya. But if we do nothing, we'll lose even more. This isn't just about our kingdoms anymore. It's about the world."

His words settled over me like a heavy cloak, suffocating in their truth. He was right. Even if I didn't want to believe it, even if I wanted to cling to the hope that the war between Avernia and Caldoria could end without such desperate measures, I knew deep down that something darker was on the horizon.

"But these magicians... this old magic... it's killed before. It's destroyed before," I said, my voice shaking with fear. "How can you trust it? How can you trust them?"

"I don't trust them," Ometz said, his voice firm. "I'm not a fool. But I need their power. We need it. The forces we're facing don't care about our war, Katya. They'll tear through everything in their path. The Heartstone's fracture has opened the door for something far worse than the conflict between our kingdoms. And if we don't prepare for it—if we don't find a way to fight it—we'll be consumed by it."

I stared at him, my heart pounding, my thoughts swirling with the weight of what he was saying. Ancient magic. Artifacts. The fractured Heartstone. A war far greater than the one we had been fighting for centuries.

He was right. I hated it, but he was right. And yet, the thought of what we were about to unleash, what he was willing to risk, terrified me. We were on the brink of something terrible, and there was no turning back.

"Is there no other way?" I asked, my voice small, pleading.

Ometz's gaze softened, and he reached across the desk to take my hand in his, his thumb brushing over my knuckles in a gesture that was both tender and weary. "If there was another way, amica mea, I would take it. But this is the only path we have left."

I looked into his eyes, seeing the truth in them, the weight of the decisions he had made and the sacrifices he was willing to make. He was trying to protect me, to protect us. But the cost was staggering, and I wasn't sure if we could bear it.

The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of the world pressing down on both of us. And in that silence, I realized that this war was no longer just about Avernia and Caldoria. It had grown beyond us, beyond our kingdoms, into something far darker, far more dangerous.

The storm was coming, and we would either stand together, or we would fall.