Chapter 32 The Trinity
Magnus
The Imperial Seers did not answer my summons.
Elian, my steward, entered instead, setting my breakfast upon the table with careful hands. He informed me—quietly, as one does when bearing inconvenient truths—that the Seers had been claimed by the Empress Consort. She struggled to conceive, and in uncertain times, an empire demanded an heir.
That meant I would wait.
Word arrived from the Warden after midday. She had agreed to provide the boys I requested—but only the Dust-born street dwellers and the sons of families unable to pay their taxes. I accepted—for now. By dusk, the first wagon had departed Dust.
There was still no word from Ryven. That omission weighed heavier than the rest. I would have to pay him another visit.
I was seated at my desk, poring over maps worn thin by centuries of conquest, when the torches along the walls dimmed. Shadows rippled across the floor, stretching where no light should bend.
Then the Seers arrived.
One by one, they materialized from the dark—hooded figures in blue robes that brushed the stone like murmurs of breath. Their hands were covered in symbols, curling and intricate like ceremonial tattoos. But these were no mere designs—they were runes, faintly pulsing in blue and gold, in perfect cadence with the ticking of an unseen clock.
They had come at last.
Elyndra, the oldest stepped forward, leaning on a cane. Her hair was white as winter frost, her eyes black enough to devour light.
She lifted her chin.
“We saw your summons, my Lord,” she murmured, her voice layered, echoing as if more than one spoke at once. “Tell me… what truth do you seek at this hour?”
“Twelve of my enforcers are missing,” I said, rising from my desk. “Cast your vision as far as the Veiled Sanctum.”
A ripple of gasps broke through the circle—robes shifting, hands trembling—except for the oldest Seer.
Elyndra did not flinch.
Instead, she conjured a low table from thin air with a flick of her wrist. Its legs struck the stone with a muted crack. A crystal orb materialized atop it—large as a human skull, swirling with iridescent colors that twisted like imprisoned clouds.
The others hovered anxiously, useless and wide-eyed.
“Leave,” I commanded, stepping toward the orb. “And speak nothing of this to the Emperor.”
They scattered like frightened birds, fading from sight as the chamber sealed behind them. Only the old Seer remained—gaunt, unmoving, her gaze sharp and unblinking.
She lifted her hand. The nail of her left pinky, sharpened to a needle, pricked her fingertip. One drop of ink-black blood fell upon the orb.
The reaction was instant.
Colors bled into darkness. The mist within thickened, swirling into churning, oily black. Then—slowly—an image emerged: a towering mountain, jagged and ancient, its peak swallowed by roiling clouds. At its base, an iron gate of white stone loomed, sealed as if holding back the end of the world itself.
Before it lay scattered mounds of molten metal, remnants of a massacre.
“Your enforcers,” the old woman said, voice low and certain, “have been reduced to ash and molten metal. A dragon has awakened.”
A muscle in my jaw ticked. I pressed my fingers to my forehead, thinking. Calculating.
The girl. I needed to find the girl.
That dragon was mine—meant to be mine. And the only way to bind it… was to bind her.
Elyndra’s voice dropped to a whisper, so cold it seemed to bite at the very air.
“Not just any dragon, my lord. The World-End Dragon. The last Dragon of the First Flame.”
The very one I needed to become Emperor.
“I will require your silence,” I told her.
The seer smiled—a slow, predatory curl of her lips. “My silence has a price.”
“Name it.”
“Youth, my lord.”
My teeth ground together. “That is forbidden, Elyndra.”
She lifted her chin, eyes flashing. “Then I will tell the Emperor what I’ve seen. And more importantly—what you have kept from him.”
My hand rose without thought, fingers curling, ready to crush the life out of her.
Her gaze flicked to my hand. She lifted a finger and gave a small, almost amused wag. “Ah, ah, aaahhh… My death would cause a stir, my Lord. And it would invite questions.”
She was right.
Besides, my dignified façade was already splintering after I’d disposed of the Examiner.
It was too risky.
“Fine,” I hissed.
I extended my hand and pressed an emblem on my desk. The doors to my chambers opened and the chambermaid I’d bedded yesterday stepped through, her cheeks flushed, expecting pleasure—not doom.
The old seer snapped her fingers.
The girl lifted off the ground, suspended helplessly, drifting toward her like a puppet on invisible strings.
Elyndra took my hand first, pricking my skin to draw blood. She licked the drop from her nail—her tongue curling around it—absorbing what she needed of my regenerative magic.
Then her mouth descended on the chambermaid’s throat.
The girl’s scream strangled into a gurgle.
Her body withered in seconds—skin sagging, hair graying, life collapsing in on itself like burning parchment. When Elyndra finally let her fall, she hit the ground as a frail old woman.
Disgust curled my lip.
I raised my hand and clenched my fist, strangling whatever life she still had. Her body spasmed—cracked—and then went still.
"Nullform," I murmured, and like the Examiner before her, flesh and bone unraveled silently, folding into nothing.
Moments later, it was as if the chambermaid had never existed.
Across from me, Elyndra changed.
Her hair spilled down in dark, glossy waves. Her skin became smooth as polished stone. Limbs straightened, posture lifted—youth returning like a stolen sunrise.
The old Seer was no longer haggard and wrinkled.
She smiled wickedly. “Do not fret, my Lord. I will tell my sisters you sent me on a mission, then slip away to Ember, beyond the Emperor’s eyes.” She stretched her newly restored fingers, admiring them. “When this youth fades, I shall return. Until then—”
She twirled, laughter purring in her throat.
“—I will have my fun.”
“Before you go,” I said, raising a hand to stop her mid-step.
She paused, dark hair spilling over her shoulders, eyes gleaming with stolen youth.
“I need one more task. Two, actually.”
She arched a brow, lips curving with that infuriating mix of amusement and calculation. “Another, my Lord?”
“Yes. First—I need you to find a girl.”
“A girl?” she echoed, curiosity sharpening her voice.
“A Dust rat,” I said. “She touched the Rank Orb. It flared violet—Celestial—then collapsed to red. Artificially.” My jaw tightened. “She should not exist. Yet she does.”
Understanding swept through her features like a dark tide.
“This girl…” she breathed, “she awakened the dragon?”
“Perhaps.” I offered nothing more. Knowledge was power, and she had already taken enough from me today.
Her youthful face grew grave. “I cannot find her, my Lord.”
My eyes narrowed. “Explain.”
“If she truly is Celestial,” Elyndra said slowly, “and a dragon-binder, nothing in this Empire can track her. No seer, no divination, no spell—except for three relics.” She paused. “And two are lost.”
One I knew of.
The Sword.
I had hunted that cursed blade for years, chasing whispers and half-rotted scrolls—and still, it eluded me. A lead had surfaced once, offered by a blind old man in the Kingdom of Acaris two moons ago. Since then… nothing.
Elyndra stepped closer, voice dropping. “The first is the Great Ranking Orb itself, forged by the Emberborn.”
The Orb sat in the Academy, heavily guarded by the Emperor’s men. I could never approach it without being seen.
“And the other two?” I asked.
“The Enchanted Satchel of Valyn and the Sword of Elias.”
“Enchanted Satchel? That’s… new,” I muttered. It had never appeared in any of my research.
She nodded. “The three relics form a trinity: the Orb—judgment; the Satchel—witness; the Sword—protection. The Satchel awakens in the presence of a Celestial. Fashioned with dragon scale, it emits heat upon contact with true Celestial blood, bound by dragon oath. Both it and the Sword were lost during the wars.”
I muttered a curse, annoyed at myself for giving her information when nothing could be done.
“The second task then. Find Andreas. The Examiner.”
Her grin sharpened. “Ah.”
“The red light from the orb was his work,” I growled. “It must be. I summoned him yesterday—he dared not appear.”
The seer’s eyes glinted. “I can trace the magic he used. Andreas altered the orb’s color—violet to red. A concealment of that magnitude is forbidden, reserved only for the Emperor’s will.”
She placed her palms on the crystal orb once more. Light pulsed beneath her fingers.
That cunning old man…
Reckless.
Calculating.
Loyal to the girl.
My grip tightened on the table’s edge until the wood groaned.
“He hides a celestial in plain sight,” I hissed. “He defies the Empire… and shields her.” My teeth clicked together. “He will answer for this betrayal with his life.”
Elyndra inhaled, eyes fluttering open as luminous patterns spiraled across their surface. “He walks among mortals in disguise. As an old woman. The concealment is powerful… yet no illusion is perfect.” She lifted her chin. “With your permission, I can follow it.”
“Then do it,” I said, each syllable a blade. “Trace him. Find him. Bring him to me.”
She sank her hands into the orb. Magic ignited, crackling through the air.
Golden threads burst into existence—thin as hair, bright as sunlight—unraveling across the stone floor, curling up the pillars, weaving around my wrists like serpents of light. The hall throbbed with power, the pulse of a spell tracing its mark.
“The disguise is strong,” she murmured, voice thick with focus. “Cleverly wrought… but the weave falters. See—there.”
A nearly invisible thread quivered before her. She plucked it from the air, the symbols on her hands glowing as she guided it into the orb.
“I see him. He is…” Elyndra exhaled sharply. “At the back gates, between the Dust and Coal Districts. Waiting.”
Waiting… for her.
As Elyndra bent over the orb, I saw a twitch. It was subtle, but noticeable.
Feigning ignorance, I walked to my desk, scribbling orders, ink cutting sharp strokes across parchment. My voice dropped to a cold, slicing whisper. “Good. Then the hunt begins now. Streets, alleys, border paths—I want them scoured." I straightened. “Let the Empire punish him for shielding a celestial.”
Elyndra continued tracing the last of the glowing threads, her gaze narrowing. “He walks slowly. Carefully. He wishes to vanish into the crowd. Yet his aura flickers—aged one moment, youthful the next. That is the price of illusion. He moves as a woman heavy with child now, but the spell leaves marks.”
I saw her face twitch again. She was lying.
I couldn't let her know I knew she was helping Andreas. She would lead me to him.
“A woman heavy with child?” I let out a low, mirthless chuckle. “Clever. Very clever.”
The threads dissolved into the air like smoke.
“But even the cleverest trick cannot outrun Imperial justice. The girl… Andreas…” I lifted my hand, magic gathering at my fingertips. “…none of them can escape me.”
A shiver of anticipation raced through me.
The pieces were finally aligning.
The trap was set.
And this time—
I would not fail.
“May I offer a suggestion before I go, my Lord?”
I tilted my head, one brow lifting. “Go on.”
“I believe the girl you seek is on foot, making her way back to the Dust District,” Elyndra said. “No dragon soars the skies—she does not ride its back. That leaves only the roads.”
Her newly youthful eyes glimmered as she stepped closer.
“Send scouts to the edge of Ashwood Forest, where the path splits from Spark to Coal. All travelers must pass through that divide.” She smiled faintly. “You will find her there.”
I doubted that.
Elyndra walked out onto the balcony and cawed. A raven appeared, black wings slicing the air. In a ball of light, a small note materialized in her palm.
“Give this to Melisende,” she said, hurling the raven into the night.
She turned back inside and bowed. “I will take my leave. If you need me, I will be in Ember.” She opened the door and slipped into the corridor, robes whispering like dead leaves.
The hall dimmed again.
I pressed my fingers to the sigil on my robe. Magic rippled outward in concentric waves, and a portal hissed open with a metallic crackle. Seven scouts stepped through, armor clinking softly, heads bowed in deference.
“You,” I said, pointing to the first five. “Guard the road where the Cursed Forest meets the Coal District. A girl will pass through—eighteen, red hair, green eyes. Bring her to me, unharmed. Imperial Enforcers are already at Ashwood. Request their assistance if needed.”
They bowed instantly.
I turned to the remaining pair, letting silence sharpen the moment.
“And you two… follow the woman who just left my chambers. Every step she takes, every whisper she utters—I want to know it. Report to me the moment she strays.”
The scouts exchanged a quick, uneasy glance.
“Go.”
They vanished through their respective portals, the air sealing shut behind them with a low, thunderous hum.
The girl will be mine soon enough.