Even stars can fall. Especially the ones that forget who lights them.
—Kael
The storm came not from the skies.
It came from within the Sanctum of Sovereigns, where Kael stood before a map of worlds—realms bent, broken, or waiting to be claimed. Golden threads of fate wove across the parchment, anchored in obsidian pins marking his conquest.
Selene entered with a nod, clad in ceremonial battle-silk—her aura pulsing like the echo of thunder.
"They've sent a reply."
Kael didn't look up. "The Twin Suns?"
She handed him a scroll sealed in flame—a mark of Vael and Thurin. Kael crushed the seal between two fingers. It fizzled into ash without burning him.
He read it once. And smiled.
"They kneel in private, but roar in public. As expected."
Selene raised a brow. "They'll send a tribute under the guise of an 'envoy'. Gifts... and spies."
"They want to delay," Kael said. "Buy time. Gauge what I'll do next."
He turned, gaze sharper than blades. "They forget I already decided."
Before Selene could speak, a pulse of divine energy rippled through the chamber—an unsettling shiver, like a memory being rewritten.
Kael's expression darkened.
"We're being watched."
That night, the stars dimmed—not from clouds, but from will.
The Celestial Aegis, the fortress of the Archons, had fractured two weeks ago. None expected survivors. Fewer believed a traitor could emerge.
But one had.
She appeared at the gates of the Spire, unarmed, unshielded, yet radiating presence like the sun through a dagger's edge. Cloaked in broken divine threads, her wings—once shimmering with holy light—were scorched and frayed.
Kael met her in the throne chamber alone.
"Name," he said coldly.
"I discarded it," she replied. "But once... I was called Lirael of the Ninth Light."
Kael studied her. "You fought at the Silent Eclipse."
"I did. I also watched the High Archon bind children's souls into prophecy stones to delay your rise. And I watched them flinch when your name was spoken."
She stepped forward, wings folding behind her like tattered flags.
"I bring you a final truth from the Weeping Oracle—the last seer untouched by corruption."
Kael raised an eyebrow. "The Oracle still breathes?"
"No," Lirael said. "But her vision did."
She held out a crystalline shard, pulsing faintly. Not a memory, not a message—something older.
Something that resisted even time.
Kael took it, brushing his thumb over the surface.
In an instant, vision poured into him—not as dreams, but living flames.
He stood upon a world not yet born.
A sea of black glass stretched endlessly, and in the distance, a throne hovered—not of stone or steel, but of blood and betrayal. On it sat a woman with eyes of crimson void.
His mother.
The Queen of the Abyss.
She smiled, tender and cruel, as galaxies collapsed in the reflection of her pupils.
"I gave you everything," she whispered. "And you still think you can be more than mine?"
The vision twisted.
Kael saw himself—powerful, crowned, draped in celestial and infernal robes alike. But bound. Shackled at the wrists by love, not steel.
And then—his throat torn open by the kiss of a dagger wrapped in a familiar warmth.
His mother's touch.
His mother's betrayal.
The shard shattered in his hand.
Silence followed.
Selene burst in a heartbeat later, blades drawn, sensing the flare of power. But Kael was already calm.
Almost... too calm.
"She will try to control me," he murmured. "She believes obsession makes me hers."
Lirael watched him carefully. "You don't fear her?"
"No," Kael said. "I pity her."
He turned to Lirael. "You're mine now."
She bowed her head. "I defected to survive."
Kael's smile returned. "Good. You'll help me do the opposite."
"Which is?"
"Dominate."
At dawn, Kael called a shadow council.
Seraphina arrived draped in imperial silks, her crown now openly displayed beside Kael's symbol. Elyndra stood behind her, quiet but focused, her loyalties no longer conflicted—but sharpened.
"News spreads," Seraphina said. "Even the outer kingdoms whisper of the traitorous Archon who now serves you."
Kael nodded. "Let them whisper."
He gestured to Lirael, who now knelt before the table of strategy.
"She brings truth. My mother will act soon."
Silence.
Selene folded her arms. "Do we strike first?"
"No," Kael said. "We bait her."
He turned to Seraphina.
"Send word to the Veiled Ones. Let it leak that I plan to conquer the Abyss next."
Elyndra blinked. "Is that wise?"
"No," Kael replied. "It's necessary. She'll think I overreach. She'll want to correct me. That's when she'll come."
"And when she does?" Selene asked.
Kael stepped forward.
"I remind her who created the abyss in her. Not the other way around."
That night, Kael sat alone beneath the Mirror Tree, where stars bloomed in leaves of glass. He traced his thoughts carefully, letting nothing escape.
His mother was powerful. Eternal. But even eternity forgets the pain of being denied.
He would not strike her yet.
He would seduce fate itself to do it for him.
But there was one more preparation to make.
"Come out," he said quietly.
From the shadows, a figure emerged.
A girl, no older than fifteen, wrapped in silver runes and barefoot. Her eyes glowed not with magic—but truth. Unfiltered, raw, dangerous.
"The Oracle's legacy," Kael said.
She nodded. "I was her last vision."
"And what do you see now?"
The girl looked up at him, unafraid.
"A king who thinks he can rule gods. And a god who will learn to love pain."
Kael didn't smile. But he placed a hand on her head gently.
"Stay close."
"Why?"
"Because when the sky tears open, I'll need someone who remembers what truth feels like."
Hours later, a scroll arrived—its seal bearing claws and roses.
Kael opened it alone.
My dearest son,
I hear you plan to conquer even my domain. How precious. How bold.
But if you think you can take what belongs to me, you've forgotten the first lesson I taught you:
—Everything you touch is mine.
And I will take it back.
Even if I must destroy you to do it.
—Your Loving Mother
Kael folded the scroll.
And laughed softly.
Not in fear.
But in anticipation.
To be continued...