The Crown Mark's awakening had changed everything.
News traveled faster than lightning. By the time we left Ashen's sanctuary, whispers had already crossed mountains, forests, and seas, reaching ears both mortal and divine.
The Harbinger knew.
The Academy knew.
And the forgotten continent had been waiting.
Echoes Across the World
We traveled east, leaving behind the oppressive silence of the Deadwind Expanse and entering into lands more alive—but no longer safe.
Every village was tense. Every roadside inn fell silent when we entered. The Mark was impossible to hide now—golden lines traced visibly across my skin, branching into the unmistakable form of a blazing crown.
Cira stayed close, speaking little. Her eyes were constantly scanning our surroundings, evaluating potential threats before they could form.
Kieran and Elara remained quiet, too, watching me carefully—concern evident, though they didn't say it aloud. Darian simply tightened his grip on his blade and kept pace.
Word soon reached us that the Academy had declared me not just a fugitive—but a threat equal to the Harbinger himself.
Envoy from the Forgotten Continent
Ten days after leaving Ashen's refuge, we camped on the edge of an ancient woodland known as the Whispering Grove. As we prepared our campfire, Cira suddenly stood, gaze locked on the shadows at the forest's edge.
"We're being watched," she whispered.
From the darkness emerged four figures clad in bronze-colored armor, trimmed with clockwork components that hummed softly. Their helmets concealed their faces, each adorned with a glowing, mechanical eye.
In their center walked an older man, dressed in robes embroidered with delicate patterns of silver gears and spirals. His hair was short, neatly trimmed, his expression calm yet calculating. He halted a respectful distance from our camp, folding his arms behind his back.
"Forgive our sudden appearance," he said, voice smooth and measured. "I am Lord Edris Kaelen, emissary from the Council of Chronos on the forgotten continent."
Cira stepped forward. "Why have you come, Lord Kaelen?"
His eyes drifted to me. "For him, naturally."
Kieran's hand twitched toward his sword. I motioned slightly, urging him to wait.
"Speak plainly," I said.
Lord Kaelen smiled gently. "You bear the Crown openly. The world has begun to fracture around you, Sylas. We have been monitoring your progress with great interest."
"For what purpose?"
He tilted his head. "The Harbinger threatens both our worlds. And now you have openly challenged him—accepted the Mark as a throne. That makes you either our greatest ally or our gravest threat."
"Which am I, then?"
Kaelen's eyes flickered slightly. "That, young prince, is why we have come. The Council of Chronos requests your presence in the capital city of Aetheris, on the forgotten continent. They wish to measure the nature of your claim."
Cira tensed visibly. "Sylas, this isn't a simple request. They'll test you, challenge you. If you fail—"
Kaelen interrupted smoothly, "If he fails, it means the throne will destroy him before we can."
I met his gaze. "And if I refuse?"
"Then you will face the coming storm alone. But we hope you won't. For our sake, as much as yours."
With that, Lord Kaelen and his escort faded back into the shadows, leaving silence behind.
Decisions in the Dark
That night, we sat in tense silence around the fire, the weight of Kaelen's invitation pressing down upon us.
Kieran broke the quiet first. "If you go, you'll be walking straight into their hands. You're powerful, but their strength is unknown."
Elara shook her head. "But if you refuse, we lose a chance at allies. Right now, we're isolated."
Darian huffed. "Allies? Or more shackles? They want to use you as much as the Harbinger does."
"They're afraid," Cira said quietly. "The forgotten continent spent centuries fighting gods who manipulated reality. Now they see the same in you, Sylas."
I stared into the flames, considering every word. The crown pulsed gently, like a second heartbeat.
"They're testing my claim," I said finally. "And I can't refuse without proving their fears true."
Kieran frowned deeply. "So, we cross the ocean? Step onto their shores and trust they won't simply cage you?"
"I'm not going to trust them blindly," I replied. "But we need their knowledge. They've faced this enemy longer than anyone."
Elara hesitated. "Then we go together. If you fall, we all fall."
I shook my head slowly. "No. I can't risk that. You three stay here, gather allies. I'll go with Cira. They won't harm me yet—not until they're sure I'm an enemy."
The others objected, but the decision was made.
I would journey alone into the heart of the forgotten continent.
The Path to Aetheris
We parted at dawn, the sky a wash of pale fire. Kieran embraced me briefly, fiercely. "Don't lose yourself to them. The Harbinger isn't your only enemy now."
Elara touched my shoulder gently. "We'll see you again. And when we do, we'll face this together."
Darian simply nodded, his grip firm. "Remember who you are."
I turned to Cira, who stood quietly near the path. "Ready?"
She nodded once, expression resolute.
Together, we set out toward the coast. Toward the unknown.
Aetheris and the Storm
The journey to the forgotten continent took three weeks by airship—one provided by a silent crew wearing bronze masks. Every night aboard the vessel, I felt the Mark's connection growing stronger, its resonance felt deeply even across the vast ocean.
We arrived at sunrise, the sky a tapestry of violet and gold as the city of Aetheris came into view.
It was magnificent—an intricate sprawl of clockwork towers, airships drifting like metal whales through gleaming glass spires. The city seemed alive, breathing, moving, governed by a pulse of Divin energy unlike anything I'd felt before.
The airship docked silently, and Lord Kaelen was already waiting, flanked by a dozen clockwork guards, their presence imposing and precise.
"Welcome to Aetheris, Sylas," he said calmly. "The Council awaits."
Facing the Council
The council chamber sat high above the city, a glass-domed hall ringed by massive gears that hummed quietly. Five figures sat upon raised thrones, their expressions hidden behind elaborate masks shaped like mechanical animals—owl, fox, wolf, hawk, and serpent.
Lord Kaelen spoke formally. "Council of Chronos, I present Sylas Caelum, Bearer of the Crown Mark."
The figure wearing the serpent mask leaned forward slightly. "You stand before us as either savior or destroyer, Sylas. Your Mark represents dominion, a claim that can break worlds or mend them."
The owl-masked figure spoke next, her voice like polished steel. "To accept the throne is to invite chaos. To reject it is to invite annihilation. What is your intent?"
I stood tall, letting the Mark shine openly. "My intent is to defeat the Harbinger—not to rule, not to destroy, but to restore balance."
The wolf-masked figure growled softly. "Pretty words. But you bear a throne that respects only strength. Show us you are more than talk."
The serpent-masked councilor raised a hand. "You will face three trials to test your resolve: Truth, Power, and Sacrifice. Survive them, and we shall acknowledge your claim."
"And if I fail?"
Their masks shifted slightly, glinting ominously.
"Then you will never leave this city."