[First Era – Year 6 of the Divinity War; Kapurn, command palaces]

  The omnipresent light of Elithir’s palatial side room settled around Moraithe as he left his other body in darkness and stirred awake. The transition was always jarring, his senses slipping between realities with disorienting vertigo. His waking self blinked, groggy at first, then steeled his mind. Time was short. Barthum’s rise to power had been like an explosion in the stillness of the Severed’s world—a world he and Norgoth had so carefully infiltrated.

  The tremors of that explosion had reached them. Every heartbeat in the darkness felt wrong now.

  “Moraithe,” a thought whispered to him from across the room.

  It was Elithir—his father, his mentor, his guide. The air around his petrified form shimmered with the faint glow of something unknowable. Elithir’s appearance was the same as always, a towering figure of gray skin and ethereal robes now frozen in a seated position. His sharp eyes, always knowing, always distant, looked into blank space with an unsettling calmness. As if the future had already been seen, already decided.

  Moraithe blurted his thoughts, “I think Norgoth and I should run. What can we do? We can’t hide from Barthum. He’s already taken the Severed council.” Moraithe’s voice was hoarse from too much stress in too little time. His hand reached for the table where a small bowl of water sat, trying to ground himself, to feel something real.

  “He’ll take far more than that,” Elithir replied. “Barthum’s influence is insidious. His control spreads quickly—too quickly for even the Severed to resist.” Elithir’s thoughts were heavy with knowledge, but there was no fear in them, only an inevitable understanding.

  Moraithe let out a breath, but before he could ask more, the air rippled again. A familiar, but strange presence filled the room.

  Norgoth appeared through the portal—his form different, disjointed to Moraithe’s senses. This was not the silver figure with luminous veins, he knew so well. He was not the same Norgoth who stood beside him in the council chambers, sharp-eyed and focused. Here, in his other body, Norgoth was larger, his hair darker, his features sharpened in an unfamiliar way. His posture was slightly different, more rigid. His body, though still the same essence, felt like a distant echo of the one Moraithe had known.

  “Forgive me,” Norgoth’s voice echoed, rough and strange in this other form. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

  “You should not have come,” Moraithe snapped, his heart racing as he instinctively moved closer to Elithir. “This place is not safe for both of us.”

  “Does it matter?” Norgoth’s gaze fell on Elithir, his face strained. “Barthum’s will is already closing in on us, isn’t it? We’re running out of time.”

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  Elithir’s thoughts felt soothing despite the words. “Running from Barthum will not save you. The only choice you have now is to remain hidden. Find a way to outsmart him, or risk being crushed under his will.”

  Moraithe felt his mind fray with uncertainty. He glanced at Norgoth, his eyes narrowing. “Should we leave? Is it too late to flee? If Barthum’s already taking over—”

  “No,” Elithir interrupted, the tone of his thoughts as unyielding as a mountain. “To leave is to surrender. You must remain. Barthum’s genius is the key to understanding his endgame. You may be the only ones who can find it.”

  Norgoth’s gaze flickered. “But if we stay … we risk being discovered. We know how quickly Barthum can control others. We’ll be at his mercy the moment we make the wrong move.”

  “Exactly,” Elithir projected, his words steady like the pull of gravity. “But if you leave, you will never know what he truly plans. I know the future, but I am not everywhere, you must be my eyes. Only by you discovering his plans will I know how to counter them. His darkness is not like the others you’ve faced. This one is an architect of secrets, a manipulator of knowledge. He was a researcher before he became darkness itself. You must see what he is attempting, understand it … or you will never defeat him.”

  Moraithe’s chest tightened, the weight of Elithir’s words sinking deeper into his soul. Every instinct screamed at him to run, to flee into the safety of the light. But Elithir was right. They couldn’t afford to abandon their post—not when Barthum was so close to achieving whatever it was he sought.

  “Staying means we’re gambling everything,” Moraithe muttered, his eyes flicking to Norgoth. “Everything we’ve worked for … everything we’ve risked.”

  Norgoth’s gaze hardened, his voice quiet but firm. “If we leave now, Barthum wins. We’ve come too far to walk away.”

  Moraithe let out a long breath, his eyes never leaving Norgoth. There was something in his companion’s voice, something that had always been there. The unyielding determination to press on, no matter the cost. They had always been driven by the same purpose—to understand, to outsmart, to survive.

  “Then we stay,” Moraithe finally said, the decision made with a sharp finality. “We remain hidden, we keep working. We cannot let Barthum know we’ve seen through his plans. We must gather what we can. The moment he suspects us, we’re finished.”

  Norgoth nodded, his posture stiffening with resolve. “We’ll need to be even more careful now. Every step will be a risk.”

  “Indeed,” Moraithe replied, but his mind was already racing through possibilities, through contingencies. They had to be perfect—if Barthum caught even the smallest hint of their deception, they would be destroyed.

  “Elithir,” Moraithe said, turning to his mentor. “You know how such people think. What should we watch for? What’s his next move?”

  Elithir paused, his eyes distant, as though gazing far into the future. Then, with the weight of untold knowledge, his mind spoke.

  “Barthum is a creature of the dark. He will not act recklessly. He will wait, and he will manipulate. But he does not know the future, he will leave clues—missteps, perhaps—if you can find them. Observe his actions carefully, and when the time is right, you will have your answer.”

  Moraithe nodded grimly. “We’ll find those clues.”

  “And if you cannot?” Elithir’s thoughts were low, almost a warning.

  Moraithe’s breath caught in his throat, but he steadied himself. “Then we die trying.”

  There was no other choice now. They had already committed to this path. And as long as they remained hidden, as long as they continued to play their parts, they might just have a chance to uncover Barthum’s endgame before it was too late.

  Every moment from here on out was a danger. But they had no choice. The game was set, and they had no option but to play.