---
High above the spires of Nerith Kael, the ancient moonstone capital of the neutral kingdoms, the Eclipse Court gathered in secret.
They met not in their public forum, but in the Mirror Hall—a dome of flawless obsidian glass, suspended between four hovering towers of floating stone. Here, light bent unnaturally. Reflections whispered old truths. And shadows heard more than they should.
Seventeen seats circled the chamber, each occupied by a cloaked figure of influence—mages, monarchs, exiles, and former kings. At the central platform stood Selira Nythe, her silver mask gleaming.
"The Ashborn has awakened two Seals," she said calmly. "He travels east now. Toward the Skyreach Fold."
A murmur rippled across the circle.
One voice rose above the rest.
"He's destabilizing the balance," said a white-robed man. His voice rang like a bell, eyes glowing faintly silver. "We agreed the Seals were to remain untouched."
"And yet the Order already broke the first Voidbrand," Selira said coolly. "The boy's actions may be the only thing slowing them."
"Or accelerating them," another figure rasped. "You gave him his father's blade. You gave him a direction."
"I gave him a choice," Selira replied. "And now the Court must do the same."
---
Outside the chamber…
Riven stood alone at the edge of the summit's outer ring, watching the city lights flicker beneath the glass floor. Kael stood several paces behind, unusually quiet.
"They called you like a prisoner," Kael muttered. "Not a guest."
"That's because I am," Riven said.
He turned slightly.
"They don't want my help. They want my control."
> "You could break their tower," Veyron offered. "Crack it down the center and walk away glowing."
"Tempting," Riven whispered. "But not yet."
A soft chime rang through the air.
Selira appeared beside the gate.
"They've agreed to hear your words," she said. "But be warned—many believe you should not walk free."
Riven stepped forward.
"I've spent my whole life in chains. They won't bind me again."
---
The Mirror Hall was colder than he remembered.
As Riven entered, seventeen heads turned toward him.
Some faces he knew from old portraits—leaders of free cities, former allies of Velmora. Others wore masks of glass or bone, their identities hidden.
Selira raised her hand.
"Riven Caelthorn Valenhart, Ashborn heir of Velmora, bearer of two Flame Seals. We recognize your presence."
Riven stood tall, hands at his sides.
"I didn't come to beg."
"No," said the white-robed man. "You came to justify a firestorm."
"I came," Riven replied, "because you're all too blind to see that balance has already failed."
---
Gasps rippled.
He stepped to the center, eyes scanning them all.
"The Eclipse Order broke the Voidbrand. My brother Vaelen walks again—twisted by flame and shadow. And while you sit in this black mirror palace trading secrets, cities burn. People vanish. And the Seals, if they fall, will not fall into your control—they'll fall into his."
"You speak of Vaelen as if you know him," one woman sneered.
"I do," Riven said softly. "He was my brother."
"Was," Selira echoed.
> "They're testing you," Veyron warned. "Don't rise. Burn calm."
One of the masked figures leaned forward. "Then answer this: will you swear to stop seeking the Seals?"
Riven's voice was iron.
"No."
"Then you are a threat."
"And so is your ignorance."
---
Suddenly—
A flicker of movement behind the third seat.
Too fast for the eye.
Riven turned just as a blade of black-glass flame burst toward his chest.
> CLANG!
Ashrend sang as it blocked the strike.
The assassin hissed, cloak falling away.
Beneath it—tattooed arms, dark eyes, and across the neck—
Vaelen's crest.
A serpent biting its own tail, coiled in flame.
"Assassin!" Kael shouted from the gallery.
The Court erupted into chaos.
---
Riven countered with a flame arc. The attacker dodged, flipped backward, and vanished in a shimmer of shadow. More assassins burst from the ceiling glass—three, maybe four. Selira drew her blade in a flash and parried a strike before it reached her throat.
The Mirror Hall became a battleground.
> "They're not here to kill just you," Veyron growled. "They want the Court broken."
Riven blasted two of them back with an Infernal Fang strike—fire shaped like a lunging wolf. The heat scorched the platform. One assassin fell screaming into the depths.
Another circled, throwing daggers laced with void glyphs.
Kael caught one in mid-air with a burst of wind. "Since when do they use void magic?!"
Riven's eyes darkened.
"Since Vaelen learned to bend it."
---
The fight was short—but bloody.
When the dust settled, four assassins lay dead. Two had escaped. Five Court members were wounded—one mortally. The Hall flickered with emergency glyphlight, and healers scrambled to repair damage to the walls.
Riven stood in the center, blade smoking.
Selira approached, jaw clenched.
"They bore his mark."
Riven nodded. "He's warning me. Testing me."
"Or reminding us," she said, "that the Court has no true power."
Riven looked around.
Eyes met his—no longer full of contempt.
Now, there was something else.
Fear.
---
Later that night, in the quiet of a guest chamber:
Kael sat on the edge of a marble bench, fidgeting with the hilt of a short blade. "Do you think he was watching?"
"Vaelen?" Riven said. "He was probably controlling them."
"He tried to kill you."
Riven shook his head. "No. If he wanted me dead, I would be. This was a message."
> "He wants you to feel isolated," Veyron added. "To make you think there's no difference between the Court and the Order."
"And is there?" Kael asked softly.
Riven didn't answer.
---
Selira arrived at dawn.
Her silver mask was gone—beneath it, her face was pale, drawn with fatigue and scarred above her left eye.
"You've earned their attention," she said. "Some respect. And more enemies."
"They'll still try to leash me."
Selira nodded. "But they won't succeed. They're afraid now."
She handed Riven a scroll sealed with molten wax.
"This is all we have on the Third Seal—located somewhere in the buried ruins of Narthos, beyond the Ravenspine Divide. It was once a palace city. Now… it's a grave."
Riven took the scroll.
"And what of the assassin?"
"Dead. His name was Ardyn Vale. Once a member of your father's royal blades."
Riven flinched.
> "Your brother is turning your old allies into weapons," Veyron murmured. "That's how the Order moves—in shadows of the past."
---
As the sun rose over Nerith Kael, Riven stood at the edge of the tower.
The second Seal still pulsed faintly in his palm. Ashrend hung at his side. And the war ahead stretched wider with each step forward.
"I won't let him burn this world," Riven whispered.
Kael stepped beside him.
"And if the Court tries to stop us?"
Riven looked down.
"Then I'll burn them too."
---