Chapter 76 News Has Spread
Magnus
Night had fallen once again on Aetheria.
It pressed against the glass of my chamber like something alive—quiet, heavy, watching.
I had not slept. Not truly.
There had been a moment, perhaps an hour at most, where my body betrayed me and slipped into unconsciousness. But even that small mercy had turned against me. Sleep had not brought rest.
It had brought her. Helena.
The dream had begun as something I had not allowed myself in years—something soft. Impossible. We were standing in the gardens of the Academy, before everything fractured, before power demanded its price. Helena had been laughing, her hand brushing mine, sunlight caught in her hair like gold thread.
For a moment, I had almost believed it was real.
Then it changed.
The light dimmed. The air thickened. Her hand tightened around mine—not warm, not gentle, but sharp, crushing. When I looked at her again, her face was no longer hers.
Her eyes had hollowed, her skin splitting into something grotesque, something ancient and wrong.
A monstrous creature.
Something that wore her shape but carried none of her soul.
“You will pay,” she said. Her voice had not been her voice.
“You will pay for the suffering you have caused.”
I woke before she could say more, my body rigid, my mind already rejecting the thought of returning to sleep. I did not try again.
Instead, I stood at the window, looking out over the city as it held itself together under the illusion of control. The riots at Dust had been contained—that was the official version. But truth moved faster than authority ever could. People knew now. They spoke of a Celestial not as myth, but as something real. Something alive. Something that might end the Empire.
I could almost hear them from here, though the distance was vast. Prayers carried in fear, in desperation. People who had once bowed their heads to the Empire now lifted them toward the sky, begging for something else.
Hope was spreading.
Dangerously.
“They pray for salvation,” I murmured to myself, my voice quiet against the glass. “And they think it will come without consequence.”
Fools.
Power like that did not save. It reshaped the world until nothing recognizable remained.
And then there was Andreas. Elyndra. The girl—Sera.
Too many variables.
“I should have seen further,” I said under my breath, more to the silence than to anyone else.
I had tried to reach him. Again and again, I had pushed through the lingering effects of the Veilbreaker, forcing my way toward Andreas’s mind. There should have been something—resistance, memory, even chaos. Instead, there had been nothing.
Just darkness.
Earlier that morning, before the weight of exhaustion had fully settled into my bones, a raven had arrived.
Lucien Arclight’s seal.
Men like Arclight did not remain uninvolved when something of this magnitude surfaced. He was many things—vain, indulgent, theatrical—but he was not a fool.
He understood power.
He chased it.
Just as I did.
I had not kept him waiting.
The orb responded instantly beneath my hand, and the world bent around me.
The Spark Palace was a monument to excess.
Sunlight poured through the vast glass dome overhead, unfiltered and blinding. The sky above was impossibly blue, untouched by smoke or ash, as though the chaos of Aetheria could not reach this place.
The floor beneath my feet gleamed gold, polished to such a degree that it reflected the light upward, bathing everything in a warm, artificial glow.
It was beautiful. It was obscene.
“I see my raven has reached you.”
Lucien Arclight descended the grand staircase as though the palace itself existed to frame him. Gold robes draped over his shoulders, catching the light with every step. The tiara on his head—ridiculous, delicate, unnecessary—sat perfectly in place against his dark hair.
He smiled. Always smiling.
“I’m glad you had the time to come and speak with me. Sit. Sit.”
I did.
White cushions swallowed me as I lowered myself, softer than anything in my own chambers. A servant appeared almost immediately, silent, efficient, placing bread, cheese, fruit before us alongside crystal goblets and a slender bottle of wine.
The liquid poured deep red. It caught the sunlight. For a moment, it looked like blood.
Only when the servant had gone did Arclight lift his glass.
“Wine from Lunara,” he said lightly. “You will not find anything better here in Aetherion. Drink.”
I raised mine.
The taste was rich. Strong. It lingered on the tongue.
And without sleep, it hit harder than it should have. A faint dizziness curled at the edges of my vision, subtle but present.
I set the glass down.
“Let’s get down to business, shall we?” I said, wiping my brow. “I’m guessing you have heard about the Celestial?”
Arclight’s smile deepened.
“Yes,” he said. “And if I remember correctly, there were two.”
His gaze sharpened.
“A girl and a boy.”
Of course he knew.
“The girl has surfaced,” he continued. “Eighteen, I believe. Her powers have manifested. That makes her… inconvenient.” A pause. “Especially now that she has found an ally.”
My fingers curled slightly.
“That leaves the boy,” he said.
There it was.
“The boy you once promised me. I need him, Magnus. He is the key to my experiments. Once I have his blood…” He leaned forward, voice lowering. “You and I can become Celestials ourselves.”
Silence stretched between us.
“I am having difficulty locating the boy,” I said finally. “I had Elara guard him. But he was taken.”
“Elara…” Arclight murmured, almost amused. “Is that why the girl went to Dust? To rescue her brother?”
“Yes.”
“And who took him?” he asked. “The Emperor?”
“No,” I said. “The Emperor knew nothing.” I paused. “An ally of Helena Valen took the boy.”
His interest sharpened instantly. “Ah.”
“His name is Andreas Thorne,” I continued. “He has hidden the boy somewhere. An undercroft. There is a kiln inside.”
A pulse of pain struck the back of my head. Sharp. Sudden. I pressed my fingers to my temple.
Arclight went very still. Then, he smiled. Slow. Wicked.
“You are a very, very naughty boy, Magnus,” he said softly. “You used the Veilbreaker.”
A clap. A eunuch appeared as if summoned from the air itself. Arclight leaned in, whispering something. The man vanished, only to return moments later with a small vial.
Arclight held it out.
“Here,” he said. “Before you go insane. One drop on the tongue."
I took it. A single drop. That was all. It touched my tongue and the pain vanished.
Gone.
My mind cleared instantly, the fog lifting as though it had never been there. Relief settled into my bones.
“Thank you,” I said.
“Of course,” Arclight replied smoothly. He leaned back, steepling his fingers. “So,” he continued, “an undercroft with a kiln. Each district has one beneath the leaders’ houses, but none large enough for what you describe.” His eyes gleamed. “That leaves two possibilities.”
I already knew. “The Academy,” I said.
“Or the Palace,” he finished. “Do you know where the girl is?”
“She is at the southern border of Ashwood Forest,” I said. “I have someone tracking her.”
“Then the undercroft we seek lies beneath the Palace.” Arclight placed a small black pouch in front of me. “It is too risky for us to move the boy ourselves,” he said. “All I ask is that you fill the vials with his blood.” His smile returned. “You will find everything you need inside.”
I picked it up. It was lighter than it should have been.
“Wait,” he added.
I paused.
“In case you capture the girl,” he said casually, “I would like her blood as well.”
A flicker of something passed through me. Annoyance. Interest. Something else I chose not to name.
“For research purposes,” he finished.
"Of course."
“Before you leave, finish your wine.”
I did. This time, I felt it more.
“Arclight,” I said, setting the empty goblet down. “You will get what you want.”
I touched the orb. And the world broke again. I returned to my chambers.
Immediately, I summoned Elian.
“I need you to locate the undercroft beneath the Palace.”
He hesitated. That alone was enough to irritate me.
“That will prove difficult, my lord,” he said carefully. “The Palace has reshaped itself over the centuries. Doors have been sealed. Passageways lost.”
“There must be a way in,” I said. “Find it.”
“I will check outside the Palace as well,” he said. “There may be an entrance that predates the restructuring.”
“Do it.”
He bowed and left.
That had been hours ago. Now, night had returned. And he had found nothing.
My patience was thinning.
The city below was quieter now, but it was not peace. It was tension. A held breath before something broke.
Then, a sharp caw split the silence.
I turned. A raven perched on the balcony.
I crossed the room in seconds, pulling the message from its leg. Ryven’s seal.
My pulse quickened as I broke it open.
I read. Once. Twice. And then, I laughed.
A sound I had not made in longer than I could remember.
The dragon. He had seen it. Real. Alive.
My grip tightened around the message, something fierce and electric igniting in my chest.
The Celestial. The boy. The unrest. All of it, it paled in comparison. This was what mattered. This was what I had been waiting for.
The source. The beginning. The end.
The dragon was all I wanted.
And now, now I knew it existed.
Nothing else mattered.
Everything would bend toward this.
Then there would be no more threats. No more resistance. No more uncertainty.
Only power. Absolute.
I stepped back into the darkness of my chamber, the message still clenched in my hand.
Soon, the throne will be mine.