The air in the king's chamber was suffocating. The once-mighty ruler of Omala lay still, his breath shallow, his skin eerily pale. A sickness unnatural. A betrayal hidden in plain sight.
Nyssa's pulse quickened as she turned to Caelan. His hands clenched into fists, his jaw tight with restrained fury. He wasn't just worried for his father—he was preparing for war.
She stepped closer. "Caelan, we have to act fast. If this is poison, we need to know what kind and who delivered it."
Caelan's gaze darkened. "We already know who."
Nyssa exhaled sharply. Lord Varyn.
The king's most trusted advisor. A man who had always held power in the shadows.
A man who clearly wanted more.
The royal healer hesitated. "Your Highness, confronting Lord Varyn without proof could be dangerous."
Caelan's voice was ice. "So is waiting while my father dies."
Nyssa placed a hand on his arm. "We don't have to wait. Let me see."
Caelan stilled. He knew what she meant.
Her visions.
His hesitation lasted only a moment before he nodded. "Do it."
Nyssa took a deep breath and placed her fingers on the king's wrist.
A flash. A whisper. A flood of darkness.
The world blurred.
Nyssa stood in the great hall of the palace, watching as a golden goblet was placed in the king's hands.
She couldn't see the face of the one who delivered it. But she saw the emblem on their sleeve.
A silver serpent.
Her heart pounded. She had seen that symbol before.
Varyn's crest.
Then the vision shifted.
The king drinking. The slow poison seeping through his veins. A figure watching from the shadows. A whisper—one name.
"Caelan."
Nyssa gasped as she was pulled back to the present.
She staggered, her body trembling. Caelan caught her before she fell.
His voice was urgent. "What did you see?"
Nyssa's breath was unsteady. "It was Varyn. But it's more than that."****"He isn't just trying to kill your father—he's coming for you."
Caelan's expression didn't change. But she felt the shift in him.
A storm was brewing.
And Lord Varyn had just made a fatal mistake.
The great hall was filled with courtiers murmuring amongst themselves, oblivious to the war about to unfold in their midst.
Caelan entered like a shadow of vengeance, Nyssa at his side. They weren't here to beg for the truth. They were here to take it.
Lord Varyn was already there, his usual smugness unwavering. "Your Highness, I heard of your father's unfortunate condition. A terrible tragedy—"
Caelan's fist slammed against the table. "Spare me the act."
The room went silent.
Nyssa stepped forward, her voice steady. "You poisoned the king."
Gasps rippled through the hall. Varyn didn't flinch.
"And what proof do you have of this… accusation?" he asked, voice smooth.
Nyssa lifted her chin. "The same proof that brought my visions true every time before."
For the first time, something flickered in Varyn's eyes. Doubt.
But he quickly masked it with a chuckle. "Ah, yes. The seer. How convenient."
Caelan's patience snapped. "You tried to kill my father. And now I know you want me dead too."
Varyn spread his hands. "Your Highness, if I had such plans, don't you think you'd already be dead?"
Nyssa's fingers curled into fists. "Not yet."
Varyn smirked. "Exactly."
A cold realization settled over her.
Varyn wasn't worried. Because he had already set his next move in motion.
Then the palace bells rang. An alarm. A warning.
A guard ran into the hall, breathless. "The city—it's under attack!"
Chaos erupted.
And in the midst of it, Lord Varyn turned to Nyssa with a slow, knowing smile.
"Checkmate."