Chaosbound: Elarith Chronicles

Luci's hand pulsed with an icy, pure light, a blinding surge that didn't just illuminate but seemed to drain the warmth from the air, making the very particles crackle. It erupted, instantly ensnaring one of the grotesque Menis. Its writhing, regenerating form, a tangle of bone and gristle, slick with dark ichor, instantly stiffened, the sickening squelch of its growth abruptly silenced. A testament to the raw, almost terrifying power she wielded, the light left behind a faint, almost metallic chill and the unsettling stillness of a creature frozen mid-horror. With a subtle, almost dismissive flick of her wrist, she effortlessly levitated the monstrous, inert mass with her light divinity, offering it to Aric like a morbid trophy. This was her gamble, a calculated display of power, a desperate hope that this single act would be enough to crack his hardened suspicion. She watched Aric's face, every muscle in her own body poised, her heart a steady drumbeat against the hum of residual magic.

"I trust this is enough for you to lend me your ear, Aric," Luci stated, her voice calm, yet resonating with an undeniable authority that cut through the lingering tension. Her fingers subtly tightened around the pendant at her neck, a fleeting, almost imperceptible gesture of control. "Please, let your guard down. I come to join your cause, or more specifically, I come for Thyranthe."

Aric's eyes, sharp as a hawk's, narrowed further. A muscle in his jaw twitched. "So it was you, the one who traveled with Kirin. I received reports, but I didn't expect you to be one of the Luminaries." He gestured to the inert Menis, his gaze darting between the frozen monstrosity and Luci, weighing the immense implications of her appearance and power. "As an offer of goodwill, I'll let you explain yourself, but be warned: I don't react well to liars." A Luminary, here? And with such power over a Menis? His mind raced, trying to fit this new, unsettling piece into the fragmented puzzle of his intelligence reports, a puzzle that suddenly felt far more complex.

A low growl rumbled from one of the Umbrafang, a hulking figure whose shadows seemed to deepen and coil around him with his words. Hans, standing a respectful distance behind Luci, noted the way the Umbrafang's claws flexed, a silent, primal threat. "Don't listen to a word she says, Aric. Their promises are spun from lies, and their light hides the deepest shadows."

Aric glanced at his companion, a flicker of agreement in his eyes, then back at Luci, a faint, cynical smirk playing on his lips. "My friend makes a valid point. Why should we trust you?"

Luci met his gaze, unflinching. "I anticipated that question. Hans, the parchment, please."

Hans, ever efficient, produced a scroll. As he unfurled it, Aric saw documents detailing disturbing experiments on young men—an investigation by the Athenari. It was a chilling record of Ron's and other grim trials, complete with dates and cryptic notes. Aric's brow furrowed, a genuine shock rippling beneath his composed exterior. This wasn't public knowledge. How did she get this? And why would she share it?

"We aren't fools," Aric scoffed, though his eyes lingered on the scroll, a hint of genuine interest betraying his dismissive tone. "Of course, we know of the Athenari."

"I am one of them, at least in terms of divinity," Luci conceded, her voice unwavering, a subtle tremor of conviction in her tone. "But I don't hold a seat in the Luminary order. I know, and have learned, all about them. And I'm telling you, there's something far bigger at play here." She gestured towards the ruined bodies of the Menis. "Believe me or not, all of this isn't the work of the Luminaries alone. There are ancient, insidious forces controlling them, or colluding with them—forces that predate even the oldest records, whose tendrils stretch across realms. These beings, for instance, are not found in the Athenari records. Their very existence speaks of a deeper, more sinister game."

A heavy silence fell, broken only by the distant whisper of the wind. Aric's expression shifted, the cynical smirk replaced by a genuine, if wary, curiosity. "So tell me," he pressed, his voice lower now, "why have you decided to meet with us?"

"Lead me to Thyranthe," Luci replied, her voice firm, resolute, a quiet power behind each word. "The Child of Chaos, destined to shatter the established order, the one foretold to bring salvation to the chaos beings."

Aric's reply was brutal, laced with suspicion. "So that you can kill him yourself?"

"No," Luci said, meeting his gaze directly, her conviction palpable, unwavering. "I wish to serve him."

Aric's reply is another brutal , "NO!"

"No, you say that now, but he is destined to lead the chaos beings, just as the Abyssals foretold. A child of chaos will bring them to salvation. I plan to witness it with my own eyes, or see to it that it happens. I have my doubts about the Athenari's intentions; they don't seem to interfere even when they have the power to do so. Trust me, the Abyssals you serve… if the Athenari willed it, they could easily get rid of them."

"Pardon us, but our mission is to bring one of these Menis back to our benefactors. I believe our discussion here is over. Oh, and thanks for this document." Aric then pulled out a sleek communication device, holding it up for Luci to see. "They heard our conversation, so I'll let them decide. They will give you a call."

With that, the Umbrafang melted into the deeper shadows, disappearing with unnerving speed, swallowed by Lethra's shadow magic. The air in their wake grew noticeably colder, leaving behind only a faint, metallic tang and the unsettling silence of their absence.

"What now, my Lady?" Hans asked, his usual composure rattled, his gaze fixed on the empty space where the Abyssals had been. "After all this trouble, we're at a dead end."

Luci smiled, a glint of triumph in her eyes. "No, Hans. Everything went well. We planted the seed; we will sow it later as the plant grows."

"And the Shadowblades?" Hans inquired, glancing at the empty space where Aric and his companions had stood.

"I don't trust them," Luci replied, her voice dropping to a near whisper, a shadow crossing her face. "I can't let them get close to Thyranthe."

The next day, a soft chime startled Hans. It was the communication device Aric had given Lady Luci. "My Lady! It's them! It's them!" he exclaimed, pointing at the device, his heart thrumming with a mix of apprehension and anticipation. This was it.

Luci fumbled with the pendant-like device, clearly unfamiliar with its operation. A voice, a touch impatient but laced with amusement, cut through from the other end. "Hello there, umm, Luci, right? Press that red button to answer."

"Oh, this," Luci murmured, pressing the button. A shimmering hologram of the voice's owner materialized before them, his form flickering slightly. Hans recognized him from the reports: Nephra.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

"Hi there, Lady Lucielle," Nephra greeted, his holographic smile wide. "We have verified all the documents you sent us, and thank you for assisting my friends, the Umbrafang. Well, you and I should meet." He gestured, and a holographic map appeared beside him, pinpointing a location in Calin Town. "Meet me here."

Without delay, Lady Luci agreed. Hans felt a knot tighten in his stomach. A meeting with Abyssals, in their territory? This was dangerous. Every fiber of his being screamed caution, a low hum of dread settling in his bones.

The very next day, they arrived at the Merry Restaurant. Hans's senses immediately went on high alert. The air in the opulent hall was thick with the scent of roasted herbs and fine wine, mingling with the subtle perfume of exotic night-blooming jasmine. Polished mahogany tables, inlaid with shimmering mother-of-pearl, gleamed under the soft, golden light of ornate chandeliers shaped like blossoming lilies. The hushed murmur of distant kitchen activity was the only sound, making the silence in their immediate vicinity feel heavy, almost suffocating. It was too quiet, too perfect. Hans's hand instinctively went to the hilt of his concealed blade, his eyes scanning every shadow, every intricate carving on the walls.

"Welcome to the Merry Restaurant, Lady Lucielle," a deferential attendant greeted them, her smile almost too wide, her eyes holding a practiced blankness. "We were expecting you. Please follow us; we were instructed to escort you to this room."

"Thank you," Luci replied, her composure unwavering, a stark contrast to Hans's internal turmoil. Hans followed, his gaze sweeping the surroundings, noting the subtle shifts in the attendants' postures, the lack of other patrons. This wasn't just a reservation; it was an isolation. A trap, perhaps? His grip on his blade tightened, his knuckles white.

They were led into an expansive hall. Sitting at a grand table was Nephra, his smile almost manic, radiating an unsettling excitement. Beside him stood a woman, Lady Lysara, an Abyssal known for her vast information network. Hans could feel their immense power, a dark, chaotic aura that even suppressed, made the hairs on his arms stand on end. They were formidable, terrifying, like shadows given form, and the sheer force of their presence made the very air feel heavy.

"How considerate of you," Luci said, a hint of appreciation in her voice. "It's nice to finally meet you, Nephra."

"Oh, the pleasure is all mine!" Nephra chirped, his grin so wide it sent a shiver down Hans's spine. This man was dangerous in a way Hans couldn't quite grasp, a cheerful predator. He then leaned forward, a conspiratorial glint in his eye. "Did you know this restaurant makes a dish with actual dragon's breath chili? It's divine! Almost as divine as... well, you know." He winked, then straightened. "And this is my sister, Lysara. You and I have a lot of things to talk about."

Lysara offered a brief, almost imperceptible nod, her eyes, dark as polished obsidian, holding a depth that belied her brother's antics. She was the silent threat, the one to truly watch, a calm sea hiding unfathomable depths and currents.

"Please, have a seat," Nephra continued, gesturing to the spread of food. "I trust these dishes suit your taste. If not, we can order more, or different cuisines. Please, sit."

"Don't mind if we do," Luci said, taking a seat. "I have come to…"

Nephra cut her off, his excitement bubbling over. "I approved! Yes, yes, yes! You can join our gang! But I am the right-hand man… you can be number four. Of course, Vyran is two, and my sister is thirdy, haha! So you can be fourth… Do you want to join in the numbers?" He pointed at Hans.

"It's Hans," Hans corrected, his voice stiff, a flicker of irritation mixed with his unease. "And no… no numbers."

Luci hadn't anticipated Nephra's peculiar blend of cheerfulness and unsettling intensity. It was like a jester's mask hiding a predator's grin, a constant, unnerving performance. "An Athenari in our circle," Nephra mused, looking at Lysara. "Wouldn't that be fun, sister?" Lysara merely nodded again, a silent acknowledgment, her expression unchanging.

"I would be right-hand man, of course I am," Nephra declared, then his demeanor shifted, becoming abruptly serious, the lightheartedness vanishing as if a mask had dropped. His voice deepened, losing its chirpy edge. "I'm sorry, Mr. Hans, but from here on, the topics to be discussed are only between the three of us. Don't worry, there's food available in the other room."

Hans's blood ran cold. Leave Lady Luci alone with these Abyssals? His every instinct screamed against it. His mind conjured images of dark rituals, of powerful beings toying with his Lady. He took a subtle step forward, his hand twitching towards the hilt of his concealed blade, ready to argue, to refuse, to stand his ground even if it meant his life.

"It's alright, Hans. Please." Luci's voice was gentle but firm, her calm gaze meeting his, a silent plea for trust. He understood the gravity of the situation, the unspoken command. Reluctantly, his shoulders slumped, the fight draining from him. He couldn't defy her, not when she was so clearly in control, even in this den of chaos. With a final, worried glance at his Lady, a silent promise to be ready, he turned and exited the room, the heavy door closing behind him with a soft thud that echoed ominously in the sudden silence.

Left in the opulent, empty corridor, Hans paced, his mind racing. What dark pact were they forging? What alliance could possibly be forged between a Luminary and Abyssals? The air in the corridor felt stifling, each minute that passed felt like an hour. He could only wait, and trust in Lady Luci's judgment, praying she knew what she was doing.

Hans sat alone in a smaller, equally opulent room, the restaurant staff waiting attentively, ready to assist with any orders. He chewed his food, but his eyes kept drifting to the door of the next room, where Lady Luci was. His mind was entirely focused on her and the formidable beings she was with. Every clink of cutlery, every hushed whisper from the staff, grated on his nerves, each sound a potential signal of trouble. He imagined the Abyssals' dark auras, their unsettling smiles, and a cold dread settled deep in his gut.

One of the staff approached him, a young woman with kind eyes. "Sir, is there any problem? Can I offer you a drink?"

Hans lifted his hand, a gesture to stop the girl, but then he whispered, his voice rough with anxiety, "No alcohol when I'm on duty... but please, give me one of your best." He said it like it was a deep secret, a desperate plea for a moment's reprieve from his gnawing anxiety, a small indulgence to steady his fraying nerves. The waitress winked, a knowing glint in her eye, as if she understood perfectly the silent battle raging within him. "I got it, sir."

Good food, good drink, but still, Hans was consumed by worry. An hour passed, then another. He stood up, the urge to knock on the door overwhelming him. He did. Knock, knock. "My Lady, it's Hans. Are you alright in there?"

"I'm okay, Hans, don't worry," Luci's voice, calm and reassuring, came through the thick door. The sound was a lifeline, a temporary balm to his unease.

He went back to his food, chewing mechanically, his worried frown returning. Another hour passed, stretching into an eternity. He couldn't take it anymore. He walked back and forth in the room, his steps short and agitated, running a hand through his hair, his brow furrowed with deep lines of concern. He felt like a worried father pacing outside a delivery room, helpless and anxious, waiting for news of a precious life, his own fate inextricably tied to the outcome within. The fate of Thyranthe, and perhaps much more, now rested on a conversation he was forbidden to hear.

Hans, still feeling worried, continued to eat the delicious food every chance he got, savoring the taste, and of course, the drink. "Hmm," he murmured to himself, a strange, almost disbelieving sound, "the food here is good." It was a strange comfort, a fleeting, almost defiant distraction from the storm in his mind.

Another hour passed, and just as he was about to knock on the door again, it opened. Nephra stood right in front of him, his wide grin back in place, somehow even more unsettling now. "We're done here," he said, then offered a fist bump to Hans. Hans didn't seem to understand the gesture, his mind still reeling from the long wait and the surreal encounter. Nephra hinted, "Do the same with your fist, Hans." Hans, bewildered, slowly formed a fist. "Hmm, like this?" Then Nephra executed the fist bump, saying, "Woooshh!" while waving his open palm and fingers with exaggerated flair. "Yeah! We are allies now." Hans was weirded out by Nephra's antics but hurried past him, his heart pounding, to check on Luci. "My Lady, are you alright?" Luci looked serious, her expression a mix of relief and grim determination, her eyes holding a new, deeper understanding. "I'm okay, Hans, thanks for asking. We did it. Things are about to get serious from here. It's happening, I was right all along."