Makaela was not looking forward to speaking with Thorian.

It was safe to say their mission at the duel had been nothing short of a failure. After Sebastian interrupted the fight, all hell broke loose. While the other Shades chased Sebastian, Chieftain Naidini, and the others through the forest, Makaela and her crew found themselves battling the soldiers in the city square.

Their fight was short and manic, ending in a retreat back to Ingozi—where they were no anticipating Thorian's reaction to their inadequacy.

The man hated losing. And they had lost their chance to get rid of Naidini.

Makaela cringed at the prospect of being yelled at. Her skin crawled as she wrung her hands outside the main hall in the old cathedral the Order of the Black Lotus was using as their base.

The wooden, double doors swung open, startling Makaela. Beside her, Amora simply rolled her eyes.

"Get a grip," the girl hissed.

Makaela pursed her lips in reply.

An unmasked Shade emerged through the opened doorway. Apprehension coated their reddened face. They lowered their eyes to the ground and cleared their throat. "You may come in now."

Without another word, they scurried away like a frightened rat.

Makaela and Amora exchanged a look. The latter didn't look so calm now. Sybil, on the other hand, was still oblivious as to what was about to happen.

Torches burned on the walls, illuminating the cavernous room. An expansive mural of the forest decorated the walls. Its once vibrant and bold colors were faded with age and neglect. Paint peeled off the wood panels, exposing the decades-old rot setting into the building. Vines crawled up the bricks lining the upper section of the walls. The afternoon light pierced through the frosted glass panes reaching toward the curved ceilings.

A makeshift throne stood on the other end of the atrium. Beside it stood Emile. He wore a stoic expression as he held his hands clasped behind his back. A small vein pulsed against his temple, almost as if he was struggling to maintain his composure.

Thorian sat beside him, his features alight with fury. His one, black eye looked darker than the pits of Nordor. The man's thin lips were twisted into an enraged snarl that sent pinpricks deep into Makaela's spine.

She immediately averted her gaze to the cracked ground as she shuffled forward.

No one else was in the room except them. Makaela couldn't tell if that was a good thing.

Thorian held up his palm, stopping the three girls in their tracks. They stood in a row before him, tentatively awaiting his words.

He didn't speak. He cast them a glare full of disdain and disappointment. With a rueful shake of his head, he rose from his black seat.

"You had one job," he told them, his voice barely above a whisper. "One job."

Amora took a brave step forward. "Father, it wasn't our fault. Sybil nearly caused Naidini's defeat, but your son interrupted before Nuri could—"

"That boy is not my son!" Thorian roared. Spittle flew from his mouth. His eyes were widened with anger. Breathing heavily, he rubbed his creased forehead.

Makaela had never seen him in this kind of state. She had experienced his wrath many times, usually during her private training sessions back at the castle, but it was never like this.

It was almost as if he was nervous. Unsettled.

"I do not tolerate excuses, Amora," Thorian continued. "You of all people should know that."

His daughter's face fell. "But, Father—"

He ignored her and narrowed his stare at Makaela. "Why isn't Naidini dead?"

Her chest tightened. The words in the base of her throat refused to come out. Finally, she managed to force out a pathetic, "I'm...not sure, sir."

"I'm...not...sure." He scoffed. "Makaela, I took you in because I thought you were an asset. You were supposed to help me win this fight and achieve our goals. I've taught you the Obscurin arts and countless other magic forms, and you cannot complete a simple mission?"

Tears sprung in her eyes. His words felt like multiple slaps to the face. Her ears rang as she stared at her shoes.

Was she a failure?

Thorian was right. He had given her so much in the short amount of time she had been under her wing. And what had she given him? The siege on Thania would have been won with or without her. The mission in Nyghtmir probably would have gone better if she hadn't tagged along.

She was a burden on the entire operation.

Sniffling, she angrily wiped her tears away.

Amora furrowed her brows at her father. She stomped up to the man. He lifted his brows at her boldness. "It wasn't our fault."

Thorian tilted his head at his daughter as she glared at him. Makaela watched her with widened eyes. Sybil did the same.

In one swift motion, Thorian's opened palm struck Amora's cheek. The sound echoed throughout the hall like a cannon shot. Slightly turned, Amora turned away from him with her mouth agape. A handprint marred her snow-white skin. Her bottom lip trembled as she held her cheek.

Thorian stood over her with his nostrils flared and his hand raised. "Don't you ever do that again. Do you understand me?"

She nodded slowly. Sniffling, she turned and bolted out of the room. Thorian didn't bother stopping her.

Makaela wanted to go after the girl. They may not have gotten along that well, but she didn't deserve to be treated like that. And it only happened because Amora stood up for her.

Her lip curled in anger. As she prepared to take a step toward the man, she caught Emile's eye. He shook his head, a warning message hidden in his dark irises. Her body stiffened as she deciphered the message behind his pursed lips.

"Don't."

Reluctantly, she heeded his warning.

Beside her, Sybil gawked at Thorian. "That was...unpleasant."

"Yes," Makaela said through gritted teeth. "Yes, it was."

Thorian readjusted his robes and turned his back on the girls. "Leave me. Now."

They didn't have to be told twice.

Makaela and Sybil quickly fled the room.

Makaela and Sybil found Amora in one of the overgrown garden plazas hidden throughout the cathedral. She was sat on a bench with her arms folded across her chest. Her father's red handprint still lingered on her cheek.

The two girls approached her cautiously.

"Amora?"

She said nothing.

Sybil nudged Makaela. "Perhaps we should give her some space."

Frowning, she nodded. Maybe the Nightling was right. As they both turned to leave, Amora got up from the bench she sat on.

"I don't need you guys to pity me, okay?" she told them. "I can handle myself."

It almost like she was trying to convince herself. Perhaps she was.

"No one said you couldn't," Makaela said, her tone cautious and careful. "We were just checking on you. What Thorian did to you wasn't okay."

Amora scowled at her. "You don't..." She wiped her eyes. "You can't judge him. You don't know him. He's just...he's just frustrated. We messed up by allowing Naidini to escape." She released a breath. "You don't know what he's sacrificed to get here and."

"You're right," Sybil replied with a shrug. "I do not know the man. And I don't know what he's been through. But that doesn't give him the right to hit a child. His child, at that. My parents never hit me, or my brother and they were so-called monsters."

Amora squinted at the Nightling. "Are you calling my father a monster?"

"If the shoe fits..."

"Listen here—"

Makaela quickly stepped in before things got out of hand. "No, she's not calling him a monster. But he was out of order with how he acted. You don't have to protect him, Amora."

"He's my father."

"Well, he should act like it."

Amora shook her head. "What do you know? You never even grew up with yours."

Makaela took a deep, calming breath. She wouldn't allow herself to get angry, no matter how much that comment hurt. She was there to help Amora, even if the girl didn't think she deserved it.

She glanced at Sybil and motioned for her to leave. Rolling her soulless eyes, Sybil left the overgrown garden.

An uncomfortable silence fell between Makaela and Amora. Neither of them would look at each other. Makaela shifted her feet and fiddled with her thick braids while Amora continued staring at a dead tree off to the side.

Finally, Amora spoke.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For what I said about your father. I...shouldn't have said it."

Makaela waved her apology away. "It's fine. I'm just trying to help you, Amora. I know it's not my place to say this, but you don't deserve to be treated the way Thorian treats you. Sebastian told me how you guys grew up. No one should have to go through that."

"He's always been like this." Amora's voice was small and timid as she spoke. "But it was different when Mother was still here. She kept him in check. She protected me and Sebastian..." Her sorrowful look filled her eyes. "But when she left, everything got worse. So much worse. Whenever we got out of line, he would..." She shook her head.

"You don't have to say if you don't want to."

"No...no, I want to." Amora took a shuddering breath before continuing. She lifted the sleeve of her robes, revealing a gnarly, white scar on her forearm. "I got this when I was thirteen. I...I messed up in training and he got so angry. He...he took my vayrir from me and..."

She didn't need to finish her sentence, because Makaela already knew what was coming next. Horror spilled across her face like black paint across a canvas.

How could a father do that do their kids?

"Sebastian's scars are even worse," Amora added. She frowned. "He protected me from Father." A rueful look filled her eyes as she shook her head. "I always treated him like shit just because Mother liked him more than me. I never blamed her. No one has ever truly liked me."

While she hadn't grown up with the Thauvin twins, Makaela knew their childhoods were enough to inflict severe, psychological damage upon the toughest of people. She remembered seeing the hurt in Sebastian's eyes whenever she looked at him. Amora held that same look in her own.

It was a miracle neither of them hadn't gone completely batshit crazy.

Not yet, at least.

Makaela wondered what things would have been like had Xandra Thauvin never disappeared. Would Thorian had even started his quest to collect all seven Eldenarian Artifacts? Would Makaela's parents still be alive?

She would never know. No one would.

"Do you miss her?" she asked.

"What?"

"Your mother. Do you miss her? I miss mine. I miss my father too. I cried for weeks after what Thorian did to them. I don't think about them as much as I used to, but I do miss them."

Amora paused. "Yes. I...I tried convincing myself that I hated her. And I supposed I did once. We never...really connected. I was too much like Father. But she loved Sebastian. She absolutely adored him. When she left, it crushed him."

It crushed you too, Makaela wanted to say. 

"I hated her for so long. For leaving us with him." A tear slid down her cheek. She didn't bother wiping it away. "Why did she leave us alone with him? Why did she have to go? Why..." She faltered before breaking down into tears. She covered her face as she cried. Her body shuddered violently as she sobbed into her hands.

Makaela quickly closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around Amora. She held the girl close to her chest and rubbed her back. Amora sobbed into her robes, the tears soaking into the black cloth.

"Why did she have to leave?" Amora asked, her voice muffled.

Makaela didn't have an answer for her.

But she did have an answer for a question that had been lingering in the depths of her psyche for the past few days. It had been there all along, but she had been willing to ignore it because of their common goal.

She wouldn't ignore it anymore.

Thorian Thauvin was a monster. And he needed to be stopped.

She hadn't realized it before, but a man like him wasn't the one they needed to lead the magic community into the new era. Even if he succeeded in his quest, magicians would still be in danger. In danger of his tyranny. His sadistic ways. His lack of respect for his own people.

They would always be in danger with him at the helm of it all.

Sebastian once theorized Thorian had something to do with his mother's disappearance. He never had any proof, but Makaela believed him. She believed him now more than ever.

Xandra had been the glue holding her family together. Thorian had taken that away, essentially breaking Sebastian and Amora beyond repair. The Thauvin twins didn't deserve that. No one did. 

"It's okay," Makaela cooed softly in Amora's ear. Her lips curled into a snarl as she hugged the girl. Thorian's face impeded her thoughts. Anger filled her body to the brim. It had been for some time now.

And it was getting ready to spill over the edge.

She was going to make Thorian pay. He was going to pay for what he did to his children. For what he did to her, her parents, and House Lumai.

He was going to pay for it all.

After she consoled Amora, Makaela made a beeline for Thorian's temporary quarters in the cathedral. On her way there, she was stopped by Emile.

"I know what you're doing," he began, his fingers wrapped around her arm, "but don't. I know you're angry and you want to help, but this is not the place nor the time."

Makaela ripped her arm from his grasp and stuck a finger in his face. "You could've helped them. You did nothing for years while Thorian was..." She shook her head. She couldn't even bring herself to say it. "You're just a bad as he is."

She could see the hurt flash across his face, but she didn't care how he felt. Not anymore. He had lost that privilege.

"I think about the things I've done and failed to do all the time," Emile told her. "It haunts me to my core. Thorian has made us all do things that should never see the light of day."

"Why do you stay by his side?!"

"No one else can bring us into the world he has planned for us."

"He won't be bringing us into anything."

Emile pursed his lips. "And what exactly are you planning on doing?" He advanced on her. Deep lines creased his forehead. His brow furrowed as he stared down at her. "Are you going to kill him?"

"Are you going to stop me from trying? Because I have no problems dealing with you as well."

"You can't stop him. You've seen what's happened to those who tried. Your parents, Achilles Washington, Sirus. Don't make the same mistakes they did."

"I won't," she replied. "Because I'm not them. I won't lose."

"Are you sure about that?"

Makaela lifted her chin at him. "I guess we'll find out."

Emile paused. His face fell as he looked upon her. Before he could say anything else, she stormed past him and continued toward Thorian's quarters. Shades glanced at her curiously as she stomped through the halls.

She was a woman on a mission.

Within minutes, she arrived outside his door. Her fingers twisted as she unleashed an unlocking charm on the sealed door. The lock clicked shortly after as the wispy, grey magic faded from sight.

"Thorian!" she roared after rushing into the room. Her golden irises searched the room—which was filled with dusty boxes and old statues—with a ferocity belong to that of a wild gryphon hunting their prey.

Her voice boomed about the room. She wasn't met by another one.

In fact, she was alone inside Thorian's chambers.

Her shoulders slumped. She realized she looked a bit silly yelling at no one. She looked around, making sure her target wasn't lurking in the shadows. Once she finished her quick search, she turned to leave.

Thorian wouldn't escape her wrath. He had taken so much from so many people. She had to bring him to task.

And it had to be her.

Before she walked out the door, something on the other side of the room caught her eye.

Turning her head, she spotted a table tucked away in the corner. Sitting on top of it was Thorian's Obscurio—the Eldenarian artifact for his house and the twin sibling to her own ring, the Illumio. The history books claimed both rings were made on the same day and gifted to the founders of House Tenebris and House Lumai respectively.

They were rings of lightness and darkness. Purity and imperfection. Controlled grace and raw power.

Order and chaos.

The Obscurio's black gem sparkled in the dim light filling the room. A low whisper seemed to be emanating from the creepy piece of jewelry. As she narrowed her eyes at it, the ring coiled around her own finger began to glow with the force of a thousand suns. The white band warmed against her knuckle, threatening to brand itself into her skin.

The raspy whispers in her ears her grew louder. She felt herself being drawn to the Obscurio like a moth to a flame. Her eyes glazed over, and her vision blurred. An invisible force had infiltrated her body and was now controlling her every move.

Soon, she stood in front of the desk with her ring-clad hand hovering above the dark ring.

Two voices, both oddly familiar, swirled around in her ears. They mixed together, melding together until they were undistinguishable. Soon, they merged and repeated a singular message:

"Witness your destiny, Makaela."

Her hand inched closer to the black ring. The golden jewel of her own grazed the Obscurio's black gem. She could feel the dark vitalae within it. The magical energy within her own ring responded to it.

Everything around her faded into shadows and wisps of white smoke. She was no longer standing in the room. She was floating in a foggy abyss, surrounded by nothing but whispers and dark clouds.

It reminded her of being ripped out of a dreamwatching sequence—just a million times more intense.

Within seconds, the darkness began to fade away, giving light to a snowy mountaintop with gray temples rising from the ridge. A woman stood in the distance with her flowy, white gown flapping in the air. Her skin was the color of copper coins and her hair was whiter than the snow she stood on.

A small smile adorned her gray-painted lips.

Makaela squinted at her. She knew that woman. She had only seen her once before, but she could never forget her.

It was Madame Alizeh, the leader of House Vaya.

But House Vaya cut themselves off from the world ten years ago. Why were they being shown to her now?

Makaela took a step forward through the snow.

Everything suddenly faded back to black. She reached out through the darkness, her chest beating rapidly within her ribcage. Her breath caught in her throat. Tears welled in her eyes as she tried moving.

"What does this mean?!" she cried. "Tell me!"

The answer never came.

Instead, the whispers returned, their harsh words piercing her eardrums. She felt a tugging sensation behind her navel as she was ripped out of the vision. With a loud pop, her vision returned to her. Startled, she tripped over her own feet and crashed to the ground. She yelped and rubbed her tailbone.

She blinked rapidly as she stared at Illumio wrapped around her finger. The golden light hiding within the eldricite gemstone began to fade away.

What the hell was that?

She got back to her feet, her brows knitted together and her gaze still trained on her ring. Behind her, someone cleared their throat.

"What are you doing in here?"

Her eyes snapped to the doorway. A squinting Thorian stood before her with his nose scrunched up.

She quickly got to her feet and hid her hand behind her back. "I was looking for you."

As he opened his mouth to reply, he looked at his ring laying on the table. His eyes flickered back to Makaela. He then pressed his lips into a thin, tight line. He stomped up to her and snatched up her hand. His long, bony fingers felt like dry ice burning into her dark skin. She winced as she tried pulling free from him.

"Let me go!"

"What did you see, child?"

"I didn't see anything. Now let me go!"

"What did you see!?"

Trembling underneath his fear-inducing stare, she wrenched her hand free from his hold. Her bottom lip quivered as she stepped away from him.

The look in his mismatched eyes dug straight into her soul, searching and ravaging for an answer. His mauvue—the dark curse that had consumed his left eye years ago—granted him the sight of Mauvorin himself. Though, she didn't care if he could see that she was lying.

She may not have had his godly sight, but she was finally beginning to see him for who he really was.

A tyrant. A murderer. A monster.

And she wouldn't support him any longer.

Thorian sneered at her. "Makaela, do not lie to me."

"I didn't see anything." Shaking her head, she looked away from him. "I've...I've gotta go."

She breezed past him and left the room. She didn'tlook back as she made a break for the forest bordering the cathedral. As shedisappeared into the trees, she couldn't shake the feeling that things wereabout to go terribly, terribly wrong.