The black flame on the horizon had not faded—it only grew bolder, rising like a scar across the sky. Though it was miles away, its heat pressed against the floating castle of Aetherion, unnatural and biting. Riku stood on the skybridge, watching it burn through the distant forest, its glow tainting the clouds crimson.
In the war chamber, urgency thickened the air. Magic screens hovered midair, displaying flickering images of villages swallowed by shadow, towers breaking under monstrous force, and panicked survivors fleeing into the unknown.
Lord Vael, his crimson armor freshly stained from patrol, planted a gauntleted hand on the map. "This isn't a raid. This is coordinated. Calculated. The Shadow Herald is declaring war."
Aria stood by the window, arms crossed tightly, her gaze cold. "And he's testing us. Pushing for weakness. Looking for Riku."
The room fell into silence. Even the child mage, floating above her glowing orbs, kept her voice subdued. "It's not just coincidence. Riku's trial awakened something. Something ancient… and tethered."
Riku turned from the maps. "What do you mean, tethered?"
Kael, the elven high-sage, stepped forward, his long silver hair flowing like water. "The Shadow Herald isn't simply your enemy, boy. He's your other half. A reflection formed in the fracture that brought you here. As you awaken… so does he."
Riku blinked. "He and I… are linked?"
"Yes," the child mage confirmed. "Through your swords. The Arcblade and the Umbrafang were forged as opposites. Their wielders… cannot rise without each other."
A heavy silence dropped over the room.
"So if I grow stronger…" Riku whispered, eyes widening. "He does too."
Aria's voice cut in quickly, sharp and fierce. "But he doesn't have your heart. He doesn't have your will."
Riku looked down at the Arcblade, now glowing faintly with azure fire along its edges. He clenched the grip. "Then I'll keep going. Even if it feeds him, I'll outgrow him. Outrun him."
"Foolish, but brave," Vael muttered. "You'll need both."
A projection sparked to life above the council table—flames devouring the edges of a dense forest.
"Emberveil," the child mage identified. "That's where the flame struck first."
"That's where we'll go," Riku said firmly.
Aria narrowed her eyes. "You're not going alone."
Vael grunted. "Then the two of you leave at dawn. Scout the Emberveil ruins, find out what the Shadow Herald wants—and destroy it, if you can."
Kael's fingers danced through the map's light. "Just don't die."
---
That night, the sky over Aetherion pulsed with quiet unease.
Riku found himself on the castle's highest terrace, the Arcblade lying beside him, glowing faintly as if dreaming. The stars above this world were unfamiliar—no Orion, no Big Dipper. Just infinite specks, silent and cold.
He didn't hear Aria approach.
"You should be sleeping," she said gently.
He glanced sideways. "So should you."
She sat beside him, her silver armor catching moonlight.
"I keep wondering…" he said, "If I wasn't chosen by the Arcblade—would I still matter here?"
"You were chosen," she replied. "And not just by a sword."
He looked at her, surprised.
She hesitated, then continued. "I lost someone once. Not in battle. In hesitation. I didn't act. I didn't believe I was strong enough. I won't make that mistake again."
Their eyes locked, and something shifted between them. A closeness built not just from battle, but belief.
"I'm glad you're coming with me," he said.
Aria smiled, faint but real. "Someone has to make sure you don't trip over your own sword."
---
Far away, beneath the ruined catacombs of Emberveil, fire cracked against stone. The Shadow Herald stood alone before a broken altar of obsidian, his long dark coat whipping in the infernal wind.
Before him lay a monstrous form, chained in red iron—an ancient beast of shadow and flame, its eyes shut, but twitching.
"Wake," the Herald whispered. "You've slept too long, Fen'raxx."
He reached out with the Umbrafang.
The chained monster twitched. Then howled.
From its eyes, twin embers lit the chamber.
---