Chapter 75: The God Who Defied Fate

[The Temple of Vaethron — Before Dawn]

The Temple of Vaethron stood beneath a sky without stars.

Ancient pillars of stone rose into the darkness like the bones of forgotten giants and the sacred laws of the Wolf God. Bronze braziers burned along the temple steps, but their flames were strangely weak tonight, flickering beneath an invisible pressure that seemed to weigh upon the entire sanctuary.

At the very heart of the temple stood the colossal statue of Vaelthron, Lord of the Wolf.

Tonight, there was no reverence in the temple, only fear as Shamash staggered across the sacred floor.

The Sun God dropped to one knee before the statue.

His golden hair had come loose, strands falling wildly around his face. His usually radiant features were drained of their divine composure, and his chest rose and fell with ragged breaths.

One hand pressed against his chest; divine pain burned beneath his ribs. The kind that came when a god’s will was rejected by something older than the god himself.

Shamash’s golden eyes burned like furnaces in the darkness as his fingers dug into the stone floor.

"I failed..."

The words escaped him like a confession as his breath trembled and he lowered his head.

"I failed."

For several moments, the temple remained silent, then Shamash slowly lifted his face toward the enormous statue.

"I dragged him into the darkness myself." His voice became colder. "I reached into his sleep while the palace slept beneath the last hour of night. I passed through the veil of dreams and pulled the Queen of Shadows into the place where memories rot."

A bitter smile touched his lips.

"I showed him what he was never meant to remember, the black desert. The blood moon. The dead woman and Lytharion."

The name seemed to make the flames in the braziers tremble. Shamash’s expression hardened. "I thought if he saw the truth buried beneath his soul, fear would do what swords could not."

He slowly rose from one knee, though his breathing remained strained.

"I thought he would look upon the Shadow King and see a monster." His gaze remained fixed upon Vaethron’s stone face. "Instead...he ran toward him."

Silence.

Shamash’s lips curled with frustration.

"He still chose him." The words were almost whispered. "I opened the door to the darkness, and rather than allowing it to consume him, Lytharion reached through the dream and pulled him back."

Shamash’s eyes flashed.

"No, not merely Lytharion, your power."

The name carried weight.

Shamash’s expression became troubled as he looked back toward the statue. "Lytharion has shielded him with it. The Queen of Shadows is no longer unguarded."

The braziers suddenly flared. Shamash did not move as he simply stared at the silent wolf carved from stone.

"Do you understand what that means, my lord?" His voice became sharper. "The boy has become unreachable. Every time I attempt to draw him away, the Shadow King stands between us."

Shamash’s hand slowly curled into a fist.

"And now the bond between them grows stronger." He began walking slowly across the temple floor. "One night, and now they no longer merely tolerate one another; they have chosen one another."

He stopped beneath the enormous shadow of Vaethron’s statue.

"And that is what frightens me." For the first time, something resembling genuine fear entered Shamash’s voice. "The Queen of Shadows is ready to bear the child of the Lord of Darkness."

The words echoed through the temple.

Shamash swallowed.

"If that child is born...the prophecy will awaken." His gaze hardened. "The Wolf Clan will fall, not merely their kingdom, their bloodline."

Shamash stepped closer to the statue.

"The child will carry the power of Shadow and Wolf within the same blood. A child born from the union that the ancient prophecy warned us never to permit."

His breathing grew heavier.

"So tell me, my lord..." His voice cracked with frustration. "Why? Why was he reborn?"

Shamash stared into the moonstone eyes of Vaethron. "Why did fate return that soul to this world? And why—after a thousand years—did fate place him directly in Lytharion’s path again?"

He laughed once; there was no humor in it, only bitterness.

"Did you know the Shadow King would find him again?"

Nothing answered him.

The statue remained silent, and Shamash’s breathing became slower, then his expression changed, and the anger did not disappear. It became something worse with determination.

"You knew their union would threaten the Wolf Clan, yet you allowed it." His voice became almost accusing.

"You allowed the Queen of Shadows to be reborn; you allowed Lytharion to find him, and now you have given him your protection."

Shamash’s eyes narrowed.

"Why?" For the first time, his voice carried something close to desperation. "Why would you protect the very union that could destroy everything you created?"

The temple gave no answer.

Shamash looked away as his expression became cold.

The golden flames of the braziers rose violently, casting enormous shadows across the walls. Shamash turned toward the entrance.

"I cannot kill the Queen of Shadows while he remains beneath Lytharion’s protection." His voice was calm now, almost frighteningly calm. "But I do not need to kill him. I only need to separate them. If Lytharion is the darkness surrounding him, then I shall become the light that forces him out of it."

He paused.

"And if Kael refuses..." His smile disappeared. "...I will make him remember why he should fear the Shadow King."

A cold wind swept through the temple.

Shamash’s golden hair moved around his face, then he looked once more toward Vaethron.

"I have awakened the past, and if Kael remembers everything...even Lytharion may no longer be able to control what comes next."

He turned toward the temple entrance.

"I will meet the Queen of Shadows myself. I will speak to him face-to-face, and this time..." His golden eyes burned like the rising sun over an ancient battlefield.

"...I will not ask fate for permission."

The great doors of the Temple of Vaethron opened.

A wave of cold night air swept inside. Shamash stepped away, and behind him, the temple fell silent once more.

***

[Imperial Palace — Council Chamber]

The Council Chamber had never felt so silent.

Kael sat on his imperial throne.

His crimson robes fell heavily around him, the red wolf embroidered across his chest catching the firelight whenever he moved. One hand rested against the arm of the throne while the other held a sealed report.

Across from him stood Captain Cedric; beside Cedric were several imperial knights, silent and rigid. Grand Duke Lior stood near the council table, his expression grim.

"After interrogating the assassins we captured, we have finally uncovered the truth." Kael’s eyes lowered toward the reports as Cedric continued. "Every assassination attempt against you was connected to the same house...house Voss."

The words settled heavily inside the chamber. Kael’s expression did not change. Grand Duke Lior watched his son carefully.

"Did you expect this, Kael?"

Kael closed the report.

"Yes."

Lior’s brows drew together. "You already suspected them?"

Kael lifted his gaze. "They were the only house that never bothered to hide its hatred. After the previous emperor died, House Voss openly challenged my claim to the throne. They questioned the spirits’ choice. They refused to recognize my authority. Even after my coronation, they continued spreading dissent among the nobles."

Kael’s fingers rested upon the report.

"They protested when I was crowned, they protested when I took the throne, and now they have attempted to kill me."

Cedric nodded grimly.

"The evidence is substantial, Your Majesty. The assassins confessed that orders were passed through intermediaries, but every trail eventually led back to House Voss."

Lior picked up one of the documents.

"How many attempts?"

"Three confirmed; there may have been more that we have not yet uncovered."

Lior’s expression darkened. "And Cassian?"

Cedric hesitated.

"His name has appeared repeatedly."

Kael said nothing; the chamber seemed to grow colder. Lior slowly lowered the report, and then he looked toward his son.

"And Nora?"

That question changed something. Kael’s eyes remained fixed upon the documents, and he finally lifted his eyes.

"I believe she is loyal to House Voss, but whether she knew about the assassinations...I cannot say."

Cedric waited. Kael slowly stood from the throne; the movement alone was enough to make every knight in the chamber straighten.

"Arrest every member of House Voss, bring them to the Imperial Palace, and interrogate them separately."

Cedric understood immediately. "So their stories cannot be coordinated."

Kael nodded.

"Exactly."

Lior watched his son in silence; there was no hesitation in Kael anymore. The young man who had once been forced to survive the schemes of nobles now sat upon the throne as the Emperor of Qashmar.

Cedric bowed again. "Understood."

He turned toward the knights, then Kael spoke once more. "If the evidence confirms that House Voss ordered the assassination of the Emperor..."

His voice became colder.

"...what is the punishment for treason?"

The chamber went completely still. Cedric’s expression hardened. "Death, Your Majesty."

Kael said nothing. Lior looked at him for a heartbeat; father and son simply stared at one another. Lior knew that look. Kael had already made his decision.

Cedric waited for the Emperor’s command, and finally, Kael nodded, and his voice was quiet, but it carried the weight of a sentence.

"Arrest them for treason."

Cedric bowed deeply.

"By your command, Your Majesty."

The doors of the Council Chamber opened, the imperial knights marched out, and the heavy doors closed behind them with a thunderous—

BOOM.

Kael remained standing before the throne. Lior looked at his son. "Kael..."

Kael did not turn as his eyes remained fixed upon the closed doors. For the first time, a faint shadow of sorrow crossed his face.

"Nora..."

He whispered her name, then his expression hardened again.

"She chose her house."

The chamber fell silent.

Outside, the bells of the Imperial Palace began to ring, and somewhere beyond those sacred walls, the soldiers of Qashmar were already riding toward House Voss.

The emperor had spoken, and House Voss had been sentenced.