Chapter 9 – Part I
“Step away from the crystal at once,” Omid said, voice steady but firm, a tremor of disbelief hiding beneath his breath.
Azunya stood motionless before the Aether crystal, its soft, otherworldly glow washing over the chamber, casting long shadows behind him, deepening the hollows of his face. His back was still turned.
“I won’t ask again,” Omid warned, stepping further into the room, hand hovering near the hilt of his blade.
Azunya finally turned, slowly.
There was no panic in his expression. No surprise. No fear. Just…
“Omid,” he said, his voice almost gentle, like a teacher scolding a gifted student for being slow. “You don’t understand what’s at stake.”
Omid’s eyes narrowed. “I understand enough.”
Azunya chuckled, low and soft, but it echoed strangely in the chamber — as if it didn’t belong there.
“This is salvation. And you’re standing in its way.” Azunya gestured loosely toward the glowing crystal. “I’ve held back from killing you since my return, Omid. Do not make me regret it.”
“Do you hear yourself? You speak like a madman,” Omid said, though part of him already knew, Azunya every word.
From behind Omid, the others began to gather at the threshold; Rezar, Carla, Lahm, Ori, Cerys. Their footsteps slowed when they saw the scene. When they saw Azunya.
Something in him had changed.
Something had finally surfaced.
Azunya’s smile faded. “I am the mad man? You coward! You’re afraid of what you can’t control. You wouldn’t this power to be used the way it was meant to be… and I am the mad man?”
Omid’s grip tightened. “And what way is that?”
Azunya stepped forward, and in that moment, even the light from the crystal seemed to shy away from him.
“To remake the world,” he said softly. “No more weak kings. No more ancient rules. No more Gods.”
Omid started, “Azunya listen—”
“Azunya is dead!” he roared. “He died the day the Aether chose over him!” Azunya said, voice slightly lower this time. “I’m Baalberith, and I am taking this crystal by any means necessary.”
A silence fell across the room. Heavy. Final.
Omid realized at that moment; he could say nothing that would convince Azunya. Omid slowly raised his sword, the runes etched along its blade began to glow with the pulse of Aether as he raised his staff with another.
“You can’t stop me,” Azunya said to Omid as he fully turned towards him. “And if you insist on trying, you will have to go through your students to get to me.” He looked at the six students surrounding them.
“This is your final test, sacrifice the Grand Overseer, and you will rule the new world beside me.” He looked at Lahm, Cerys, Anur, Ori, Carla and Rezar.
Ori stood frozen, his hands trembling at his sides.
Cerys scanned the others as if weighing her odds, and then slowly stepped back from Rezar and Carla, aligning herself with Lahm and Anur.
A cold decision.
Lahm unsheathed his sword, its edge catching the crystal’s glow, casting sharp glimmers across the chamber. He had been waiting all night for permission to draw it. Now he had all the permission he needed.
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“I stand with Azunya,” Lahm declared.
Anur moved beside him, silent, obedient. A soldier following his general.
Cerys followed last. She reached into the grooves of her armor and drew both of her curved daggers in one fluid motion. She didn’t speak, her stance said enough.
The three of them began to circle Omid like wolves.
Rezar’s voice cracked the tension.
“Have you all lost your minds? That’s the Grand Overseer!”
He stepped forward, placing himself between Omid and the others.
“This isn’t who we are!”
But none of them flinched.
Rezar turned, desperate. “Carla!” he shouted. “Is this the kind of new world you want?!”
Carla blinked. A long blink, like waking from a fog. She looked at Rezar. Then at Azunya.
Her eyes widened, ever so slightly, as if finally seeing the truth.
“We can’t kill him,” she said, slowly. “We were meant to heal the world… not destroy anyone who stands in our way.”
“I’ve had enough of your nonsense.” Azunya said as he locked eyes with her. His tone turned ice-cold.
Then, with surgical calm, Azunya spoke the next words like scripture.
“I lead. You follow. I’ll lead you to the Promised Land.”
Carla stared at him. Her face twisted not in fear, but betrayal. Her jaw clenched, her lips parting only to whisper the words that would spark the storm.
“Then I don’t stand behind you.” Carla said as she raised her hands. “I stand against you.”
She struck a wind blast spiraling from her palm, howling with raw force. It slammed into Azunya’s energy shield that shimmered into existence just in time. The blast broke against it like a wave on rock.
Azunya’s voice was quiet, unshaken. “You made your choice.”
He muttered something under his breath. A phrase in the Old Tongue. The runes of his shield flared crimson. Then he released a wind blast of his own.
Only this time, it was not a push of the wind.
It was a .
The impact cracked through the chamber like a cannon. Carla tried to conjure a shield, but it barely had time to form. The blast shattered it in an instant, and she was hurled backward — her body striking a stone pillar with a sickening thud.
“Carla!” Rezar’s voice broke as he ran to her crumpled body.
Omid’s breath caught in his throat. He saw the blood at the base of the pillar.
“No, no, no…” Rezar knelt beside her, lifting her limp form. “Carla, stay with me, come on please, ”
Omid felt the ground shift. He broke into a sprint toward Azunya, but three shadows moved to block his path.
Lahm. Anur. Cerys.
Blades drawn. Eyes cold. Hearts hardened.
“Don’t make me hurt you,” Omid warned.
Lahm smirked.
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
Lahm lunged first. Sword slashing downward with brutal force but Omid twisted aside, his robes swirling as he ducked under the blade. With a flick of his fingers, a pulse of blue energy erupted from his palm, sending Lahm stumbling back, his chestplate singed with crackling ether.
Cerys was faster. She darted low, her twin blades slicing for Omid’s legs.
But Omid jumped, unnaturally high, flipping once in the air and landing behind her.
He didn’t hesitate.
A force wave burst from his hand, catching her mid-turn and sending her skidding across the floor.
Anur came at him without a sound, staff spinning. A sharp jab toward Omid’s ribs — blocked. Omid parried it with his bracer, then drove his palm into Anur’s chest, a shockwave pulsing through him like a lightning bolt. Anur flew back.
They regrouped fast, forming a loose triangle. They were trained enough but Omid was the Grand Overseer for a reason.
Lahm charged again. Omid sidestepped and drew his own blade, a shimmering longsword carved with ancient runes. He caught Lahm’s strike mid-air, locking blades.
“Yield,” Omid growled.
Lahm spat in defiance.
Omid’s sword lit up, runes glowing white-hot; and with a sudden surge of strength, he pushed Lahm back, kicked him in the stomach, and sent him sprawling.
Cerys hurled one of her daggers mid-spin. Omid snapped his fingers, and the blade froze in the air, suspended by magic. He flicked his wrist, sending it flying back at her, just missing her head as she ducked.
He spun to face Anur, who was preparing a spell.
Too slow.
Omid thrust his hand forward. Wind coiled around Anur’s body like a serpent and slammed him into the wall.
The Grand Overseer stood tall, breathing hard but composed. The three around him were panting, bruised, unsure.
“Stop this now,” Omid commanded. “You’re being led to ruin.”
For a second, just a second, something flickered in Cerys’s eyes. Hesitation perhaps, but it left her eyes soon as defiance took over.
But then Anur screamed and charged.
It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t smart. It was .
Omid turned, ready to deflect again, but this time Anur didn’t attack with magic. He rushed in close and drove a concealed dagger straight into Omid’s left arm.
“Ahhck—!” Omid cried out, staggering as the blade punched through muscle.
Blood poured down his sleeve.
His staff dropped but his right hand flared with power. Instinct took over. In a blind sweep, he slashed his sword across Anur’s neck.
The blade sang and then silenced him.
Anur froze mid-motion. His eyes wide.
Blood sprayed in an arc as he dropped the dagger. He reached for his throat, gasping, choking — then collapsed to the floor, gurgling on his own blood.
It all happened in seconds.
Lahm and Cerys froze.
Their eyes locked on Anur’s dying body. The red pool spreading beneath him.
Even Azunya paused.
A beat of silence.
Then Lahm took one step back.
Cerys’s grip on her daggers loosened.
Omid, holding his bleeding arm, stared at the corpse at his feet.
He hadn’t meant to kill him. They were his students. His responsibility. And now one of them lay dead by his hand.
But it was too late now.
***
