The First Betrayal
Aron’s grip faltered involuntarily. Memories clawed at the edges of his mind: shifting shadows in the great halls of the Kretzan Library, ancient scrolls crumbling under his trembling fingers, and the cold voice of the Hierophant—the one who sought to silence him. “You will die for this,” the old man had declared, his ceremonial headdress gleaming in the torchlight. That night, the library burned, and Aron fled. He had not been the first to unearth the heresies buried in imperial dogma, but he would not let himself share his predecessors’ fate. He would succeed where others had failed.
His gaze snapped back to the armored woman. “All I know is that the Truth must be freed. Whatever price the world pays is its own reckoning.”
She shook her head with a sigh. “Men like you are dangerous. You think yourself the hero in a story of your own telling, but heroes and villains both leave the same scars on the earth.” She turned slightly, scanning the horizon as if expecting pursuers. “But if you’re determined to see this through, you’ll need more than conviction. The Veil’s Keepers won’t let you near without a fight.”
The Alliance
“Why do you care?” Aron asked, narrowing his eyes. “You’re a Guard—a relic of loyalty to the empire. Or are you just here for the bounty?”
The woman arched an eyebrow. “Loyalty?” She scoffed. “The Azure Guard were loyal to Kretza’s people, not its tyrants. When the empire fell, the Guard were slaughtered, betrayed by those they swore to protect. I wear this armor not for the glory of a dead empire, but as a reminder of what betrayal looks like.”
She stepped forward, extending a hand. “We both want the Veil undone, though for very different reasons. I’ll help you reach it, but on one condition: the amulet you carry. It’s the key to the Veil. If we succeed, it stays with me, not you. Its power must not fall into the wrong hands.”
Aron glanced at the bronze amulet, the ancient runes glowing faintly in response to her words. Reason battled with pride in his mind. Could he trust her? Did he even have a choice?
Against his better judgment, he nodded. “Agreed. But cross me and this dagger won’t hesitate.”
The woman smirked faintly. “You talk a lot for someone who nearly bled to death an hour ago.”
She turned sharply and started walking toward a distant ridge, the moonlight casting an eerie glow on the shifting sands. Aron followed, the dagger still in his hand, its weight a grim reminder of the path he’d chosen.
The desert wind howled louder, as though it carried the laughter of long-dead gods. Whatever lay ahead—truth, salvation, or destruction—they would find it together.
And the world would never be the same.
Genre: Dark Fantasy
The Source...check out the great article that inspired this amazing short story: My Dream Alliance Strategy for the US - Part 1
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