Sebastian's felt like he'd been set on fire.

Every fiber of his being screamed in agony. He felt damp bandages wrapped around his midsection. The sharp smell of mint and something else he couldn't place his finger on tickled his nose. Some sort of balm had been rubbed against his skin, likely to combat whatever damages he sustained.

He thought back to the images the artifacts showed him moments before the Shades arrived. That same scene of him standing on that balcony in the Eldenarian Palace was there. The Obscurio had shown it to him before. And there it was again.

This time, he knew what it meant.

He was the King.

But how could he rule anything if he couldn't even defeat his father?

Memories of their fight choked him until he saw stars.

What was I thinking?

Even with the Obscurio, he was no match for his father. He had been a fool to think otherwise. Now the ring was gone, back in the possession of its true master. Shame flooded his head; he could feel it trying to escape through his eyes. He didn't let the tears fall. They wouldn't bring the Obscurio back.

They wouldn't fix his mistakes.

Blinking away the darkness around him, he slowly lifted his head, the muscles in his neck struggling to support the weight. Faint, pain-filled groans filled the room. Even at this hour, healers milled about, tending to the dozens of wounded placed on makeshift cots and stretchers.

This time, it was Sebastian who was confined to a bed in the infirmary. It was packed to the walls. Two injured magicians laid on either side of him, their bodies just a foot away. He could barely breathe. The room looked a lot smaller now.

So many people had been hurt because of the Order of the Black Lotus. And these were just those who survived. How many hadn't? How many fell to the Shades? He dropped his head onto his pillow and exhaled.

Thinking about it only brought more guilt. More humiliation.

Gritting his teeth, he swung his legs over his cot. He forced himself to stand despite the jolts of discomfort shooting up his legs. Carefully, he made his way over to the exit of the infirmary. None of the medics paid him any mind. They were too busy carting around bandages and medicines to worry about him.

He hobbled out of the building and stepped into the brisk, midnight air. The destruction of the village met his eyes.

Multiple structures and tents had been put to flame. Some were salvaged while others had been reduced to rubble and ash. The Order likely brought a few pyromancers with them on their attack. House Tenebris wasn't the only house they recruited magicians from.

Scowling, he passed by a cracked fountain. Water trickled through the gaps in the stone, forming a tiny river in the grass.

There was too much going on in his head. He couldn't stay inside that infirmary for another second. A walk through the forest was in order.

❁

Wandering through the woods wasn't one of his brightest ideas, but he didn't care at the moment. He needed to clear his mind.

He found solace beneath the moon and amongst the towering pine trees. Owls hooted in the distance, their noises echoing through the night. A chill permeated through his clothes and stabbed at his skin. He tightened his jacket and soldiered forward.

During his short walk through Hodvekt, he could feel something was off. It was like the soul had been ripped from the village, leaving behind a deep void, a chasm of sorrow. A melancholic fog sifted through the trees around him.

He had a feeling his father hadn't only taken the Obscurio from him.

The man must've taken something else.

Confirmation of his theory would have to wait for the morning, though. Glancing up at the sky, he decided he should've headed back to the infirmary for the night. The temperature didn't show any signs of rising and Redfangs could've still been lurking around the village.

He still wasn't sure how they made it through Hodvekt's shield charms. Then again, the Order had spies everywhere. It wasn't far-fetched to say an insider let them in.

Shaking his head, he turned and hobbled toward the village.

Leaves rustled off to his right. He froze, squinting through the shadows to find the source of the noise. Twigs snapped under someone's shoe. He quickly summoned his vayrir, his fingers curled around the handle. With his eyes narrowed, he treaded lightly across the forest floor toward the sounds.

His eyes widened.

Makaela?

The girl moved aimlessly between the trees with her head bowed slightly. Her gaze was fixed on something in her hands.

What was she doing out here by herself?

He attempted to shadowjump to where she was headed, but after nearly vomiting on the spot, he decided he was better off trying to catch up to her. Ignoring the pain in his legs and torso, he limped to where she was.

She spun around to meet him. Her guard dropped upon realizing it was only him.

"Sebastian?" She rushed forward before sweeping him up in a forceful hug.

He wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin atop her head. Closing his eyes, he let himself fade into her embrace for a few moments. She buried her face into the crook of his neck.

They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity.

Eventually, she pulled away from him. Shadows hid her face, nearly masking the pensive expression she wore. But he saw it.

"What are you doing out here?"

She averted her gaze. He spotted the black medallion in her hands.

Something wasn't right.

"What is that you're holding?"

"Nothing." She hid her hand behind her back. "You shouldn't be out here, Sebastian. You're hurt. You need to be resting-"

He stepped toward her, his eyes narrowed. "Makaela, don't lie to me."

She bit down on her lip as she looked up at him. "Sebastian, I..." With a sigh, she opened her palm. A black lotus sat on top of her golden brand.

No...

"How did you get that?"

"He gave it to me."

The forest started spinning. Sebastian stumbled backward, his hands pressed against his throbbing temples. His father gave her the medallion. But how? When? It wasn't making sense.

"Makaela, what are you doing out here?" He needed an answer this time.

She trembled before him. "I'm afraid and I don't know what to do. He pulled me into a dream. I still don't know how he did it. He...he told me things. I'm still trying to wrap my head around it all."

Sebastian's nostrils flared at the thought of Thorian messing with her mind. Nothing he said could be trusted. His tricks wouldn't work on her. Not if he could help it.

"Don't listen to a thing he told you," he said. "He's trying to rattle you. You can't let him win."

"Sebastian..." She wrung her hands. "The things he told me- He told me the truth about me. About my mother."

Sebastian went still.

He had heard the rumors about her mother. But that's all they were. Rumors. Lies fashioned to dehumanize her. He never put any thought into them.

How could they be true?

"I've casted dark spells twice now," she said. "That shouldn't be possible. I'm a lightweaver."

Sebastian shook his head. "No, it's not true. You're not a Nightling, Makaela."

"But what if I am?"

Sebastian struggled to swallow the lump in his throat. Dread settled in his chest. If what she said was true, then she did have dark blood in her veins. She was a halfling in more ways than one.

"It doesn't matter," he told her. Pressing both hands on her cheeks, he gently lifted her head. "I don't care what he, or anyone else, says. Nightling or not, you're still you. You're still the girl I had a crush on when I was nine. You're still the brave, fearless caster who would stop at nothing to protect the people she loves." Words were pouring out his mouth like a gushing waterfall. There was no way to stop it. "You're still the girl I love. Nothing will change that."

She still wouldn't meet his eyes.

His heart stopped as he waited for her to say something.

She grabbed his hands. Then she removed them from her face.

"You don't know me, Sebastian."

She was wrong. He did know her.

Tears brimmed in his eyes. He didn't bother wiping them away.

As he peered into her face, he noticed something hidden deep inside, shrouded in darkness and lies. There was something else she wasn't telling him.

"What else did my father tell you?"

"Nothing."

"Makaela, what did he say?"

"Nothing!"

A fire had been lit within her irises now. They burned brightly, searing into Sebastian's own.

"Just stop, okay?" Her voice broke. "Honestly, I don't even know why you saved me that night. Is this some kind of fantasy for you? You think I'm some damsel in distress for you to save? You think you're the King?" She paused. "No, I know what this is. This is you trying to escape your father's shadow."

His knuckles went white as he clenched his fists.

"No matter what you do," Makaela continued, "you'll always be one of them. I still see it in you sometimes, you know. You can't escape it. Just like how I can't escape who I truly am."

He knew she didn't mean that. Her emotions were getting the best of her. Whatever his father told her must've done a number on her psyche. Still, he couldn't help but linger on her words.

He reached toward her, but she backed away from him.

"You're upset. I understand that, but-"

"Upset?!" She laughed. "Sebastian, Thorian murdered Achilles. The Order killed dozens of Brynjirs and injured even more than that. They nearly burned Hodvekt to the ground. And now they have two artifacts in their possession." She scoffed. "You think I'm upset? I'm terrified."

Achilles? Killed?

That didn't sound right. Achilles couldn't die. As far as Sebastian was concerned, the battlemage was immortal. Shaking his head, he tried approaching her again.

"Makaela, it's okay to be afraid. You're not in this alone-"

"Stop trying to save me!"

She flung her arms out. A strong gust of wind ravaged the forest, even pushing Sebastian back a few inches. His ears and face rang violently. Her words felt like a smack. His tongue felt like an anvil inside his mouth.

"It's been a long day." She turned her back to him. "I'm going back to bed."

"Makaela, wait-"

"Goodnight, Sebastian."

She walked off, leaving him with his racing thoughts in the dark of the night.

He stood there, numb and confused.

What just happened?

Sinking to his knees, he screamed-one filled with anguish and anger. It echoed around him, carrying for miles.