Chapter 44 - The Gates of Aerthas

The fortress of Aerthas loomed before them—a monumental structure built into the cliffs, its walls hewn from black granite veined with silver. Massive watchtowers flanked the gates, their spires crowned with banners that rippled in the wind. The emblem of Aerthas—a crescent moon entwined with a blade—shone proudly against the backdrop of the sky, which now stretched clear and unbroken.

Kaelen slowed his mount and let out a low whistle. "That's... impressive."

Taronis nodded, his eyes narrowing. "A fortress meant to withstand not just armies, but the weight of time itself."

Seris led the way toward the entrance, her posture stiff but resolute. As they neared, the gates began to rumble and groan, splitting open to reveal a long, torchlit corridor beyond. Armored sentries lined the path, their polished weapons gleaming.

One of the sentries stepped forward—a tall man with a chiseled jaw and piercing amber eyes. His silver-plated armor was adorned with intricate engravings, and his crimson cloak draped over one shoulder.

"Seris Lior," the man greeted, his voice formal but not unkind. "You've returned sooner than expected."

Seris dismounted and gave a slight bow. "Captain Vaelen. I bring urgent news and the companions I spoke of."

Vaelen's gaze swept over Drakar and the others. His eyes lingered on Drakar's tattoos and Emberfang, who padded silently behind his master, its violet eyes glowing faintly.

"You brought an orc... and a beast." Vaelen's tone was cautious, but not hostile.

Drakar dismounted slowly, his movements calm but deliberate. "My name is Drakar Vorn. I don't answer to suspicion, only to truth."

Vaelen's brows lifted slightly in surprise at Drakar's measured tone. Seris stepped between them before the tension could rise further.

"Vaelen," Seris said firmly, "these people helped restore the Veil. They're here as allies."

Vaelen's gaze softened, and he nodded. "Very well. The High Council is in session. You'd best prepare yourselves—Aerthas is not what it once was."

The companions followed Seris and Vaelen through the torchlit corridor, which opened into an enormous hall bathed in soft, celestial light. The ceiling was a vast dome made entirely of crystal, through which the sky was visible. Constellations seemed to shimmer and dance above, casting intricate patterns of light onto the marble floor.

Kaelen looked up, awe flickering in his eyes. "This place is... incredible."

Taronis's expression remained stoic, but his voice was quieter. "It feels... like stepping into a memory."

At the far end of the hall stood a crescent-shaped table where five figures sat. Each wore a mantle that symbolized their station—emerald for wisdom, silver for protection, crimson for war, gold for diplomacy, and obsidian for secrecy.

An elderly woman with long silver hair rose to greet them. Despite her years, her posture was regal, and her eyes gleamed with intelligence.

"Seris," she said, her voice warm but commanding. "You return to us with unexpected guests."

Seris stepped forward and bowed. "High Chancellor Lythera, I bring urgent news from the Bastion—and these are the ones who restored the Veil."

The hall fell silent. Lythera's gaze shifted to Drakar, lingering on the amulet he no longer wore but whose faint emberlight still pulsed beneath his skin.

"You are the bearer of the Veil's Heart," Lythera said softly.

Drakar nodded. "I am."

The crimson-cloaked councilor leaned forward, his eyes sharp. "Then you know that restoring the Veil has sent shockwaves across the realms. The balance has shifted, and old powers stir."

Lythera raised a hand to calm him. "The Heart was restored to heal, not to disrupt." She turned to Drakar. "But the question remains: What do you intend to do now?"

Drakar met her gaze, unflinching. "I intend to fight for those who cannot defend themselves. But I need to understand the full truth of what we're facing."

Lythera's eyes softened with something like sadness. "Then you deserve to know. The Fracture was not only a war of titans—it was a war of betrayal."

Kaelen shifted uncomfortably. "Betrayal?"

Lythera gestured, and the dome above them darkened until it resembled a night sky untouched by light. Images began to form—spectral figures of titanic beings locked in battle, their forms shining like constellations.

"One of the Celestial Wardens, Aethros, believed that the Veil had trapped creation itself. He sought to unravel it, believing he could reshape the world."

The spectral image of Aethros appeared—his form blazing with silver light, his eyes filled with both sorrow and fury.

"But his actions shattered not only the Veil but the bonds that held the realms in harmony." Lythera's voice was steady but heavy. "His rebellion became known as the First Sundering."

Drakar's eyes darkened as he absorbed the weight of the revelation. "And his remnants... the Dral'Thar?"

Lythera nodded. "They are echoes of his will, fragments of a dream long turned to ruin."

Taronis spoke, his tone resolute. "And now they're rising again."

Lythera's gaze sharpened. "Yes. And Aerthas stands at the threshold of that storm."

Silence filled the hall as the council absorbed the gravity of their situation.

Drakar stepped forward, his emberlit tattoos glowing faintly in the dim light. "Then we'll stand with you. But know this—we don't follow orders blindly. We fight for those who deserve a future."

Lythera inclined her head, respect flickering in her gaze. "Spoken like a true guardian."

The obsidian-cloaked councilor finally spoke, his voice low and deliberate. "Then you should know... if you choose to fight with Aerthas, you'll be marked by those who seek to tear the Veil apart."

Kaelen shrugged, a mischievous grin on his face. "We've been marked by worse."

Lythera smiled, though it was tinged with sorrow. "Then may the stars guide your path."

Vaelen stepped forward and saluted. "The preparations for war have begun. You'll need to see the warfront for yourselves."

Drakar's gaze was steady. "Lead the way."

The hall's light brightened once more as the companions turned to follow Vaelen. Their steps echoed through the ancient hall—a sound that would mark the beginning of a new chapter in their journey.