Eclipsed

Chapter 12

The Gathering Storm

Valen’s voice was steady but carried an edge of finality as he spoke to Ren, who had been lost in thought ever since the mention of Ozythar. "Get some rest," Valen said, his tone almost gentle, "Tomorrow, we set out to expunge two of the Malgorath disciples directly: Ozythar and Rhulgar."

Ren nodded, his expression unreadable, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of something deep—an unsettling recognition. "Understood," he replied, though his mind was already elsewhere, focused on the name that had caused the shift in his demeanor. Ozythar—that name echoed in his mind, heavy with the weight of old memories. He pushed it aside for now; there was little time for dwelling on the past. Tomorrow was all that mattered.

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The scene shifted, the cold chill of the air enveloping everything as the view transitioned to a distant, ominous realm. A pitch-black sky stretched endlessly above a jagged mountain range, the air thick with a sulfurous stench. Below, a sea of molten lava churned and bubbled, its heat radiating into the very air, distorting the surroundings with waves of mirage-like shimmer. At the heart of this hellish landscape stood a castle, its dark, towering spires piercing the sky like jagged fangs, crumbling stone walls adorned with scorched banners.

Inside, the atmosphere was no less foreboding. The air was thick, suffocating, filled with an unnatural stillness that hung over the entire room like a curse. A massive chamber stretched before them, lit by flickering, infernal torches that cast eerie shadows across the walls. Twelve seats were arranged in a half-circle at the far end of the room, each one designed to reflect the dark essence of its occupant. But one seat—once occupied by Karnazoth, the feared disciple—was empty. His absence was a silent echo in the room, a gap that spoke of violence and a power vacuum.

Liora, the first to break the silence, leaned forward in her seat, her sharp eyes narrowing as she surveyed the empty throne. Her long, midnight-black hair cascaded like a veil of shadows around her pale face, her eyes gleaming with a predatory intensity. She was draped in dark robes that shimmered with a mysterious energy, the fabric almost alive as it seemed to shift with the shadows. "I see... so Karnazoth has been defeated," she said, her voice cold and calculating.

Ozythar, his towering, muscular frame hunched slightly as he spoke, his deep voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate the very air, replied with a dark tone. "Yes, my lady, it seems he has been defeated. Do you want me to look into this?" His black skin, like polished obsidian, gleamed in the dim light, and his body was built like a beast’s—thick and powerful, with razor-sharp claws at the tips of his fingers.

Liora’s lips curled slightly in a smirk. "Yes, please, Ozythar. That would be great." Her eyes flicked toward Rhulgar, sitting across from her, and her expression shifted to one of subtle distaste.

Rhulgar, ever the brash one, let out a harsh laugh, the sound echoing off the stone walls. "Ha! He’s just trying to please you, my lady, so he can take control. Don’t fall for his tricks." His voice was a deep growl, rough and abrasive, as if each word was being dragged from him with difficulty.

Ozythar’s eyes flared with fury, and his claws flexed, gripping the armrest of his chair as if it were about to break under the pressure. "Silence, fool!" he growled, his voice like the sound of grinding stones. "How dare you speak such things!"

Rhulgar’s lip curled into a sneer. "What did you call me?" His hand reached for the massive axe strapped to his back, the blade shimmering dangerously as he slowly unsheathed it.

The tension in the room was palpable, thick as the smoke swirling around them. But before anything could escalate further, a voice rang out—sharp, commanding.