The throne room was hollow and vast, yet it pressed in on Mathew like a cage. He stood beneath the fading rays of dusk filtering through stained glass, his hands clenched at his sides, jaw tight with rage and frustration.
"Aura!" he roared. "Help me!"
Only silence responded.
He paced, muttering curses, then spun and bellowed again, "I'll give you anything! My soul, my blood—whatever you want! Just help me survive what's coming!"
The air shimmered. A warm breeze that smelled of ash and jasmine swept through the chamber, curling like fingers around his body. With a flicker of shadow and light, Aura appeared—more radiant, more terrible than before.
She smiled at him as if he were a child begging for a taste of forbidden wine.
"Well, well," she purred, circling him slowly. "The proud king begs. And here I thought you didn't believe in false gods and tricksters."
He met her eyes without flinching. "I still don't. But I believe in power. And you have it."
Aura grinned, pleased. "And what do you want, little king?"
"To hold my throne," he said. "To outlast the god king reborn. You said he will rise. That he will come for my crown when he reaches his strength. I want to survive his return. I want to win."
"Oh, Mathew," she said, stroking his cheek like a mother to a favored child, "you are learning. But to stand against a god reborn in mortal flesh, you must offer chaos… in its purest form."
He narrowed his eyes. "What do you want from me?"
Aura stepped back, her voice like a song of fire. "Burn the Forbidden Forest. Destroy it. Every last tree, every beast, every whisper of old magic. Tear it down until the land itself forgets it ever existed."
He blinked. "That forest has existed since before Aeloria was even a name."
"Exactly," she said, her tone sweet and sharp. "Its magic is older than kings. Older than empires. It harbors creatures and secrets that will only aid your enemies. As long as it lives, you are vulnerable."
"It'll take years," he said. "Decades, even."
Aura's smile never faded. "Then begin tomorrow. I will send someone—an architect of chaos. He will lead your campaign. Slow and relentless. But by the time the god king is grown, you will have stripped this land of all its magic. And when he comes for you, he will find only steel and stone."
Mathew was silent for a moment. Then he nodded.
"If that's what it takes… I will burn it all."
Aura leaned close, her voice a whisper laced with fire. "You'll be remembered, Mathew. Not as a tyrant… but as a survivor."
She turned to leave, her form dissolving into violet mist. But just before fading completely, she looked over her shoulder.
"When the first tree falls, your future begins."
And then, she was gone.
Mathew stood alone, breathing heavily. For the first time in weeks, he didn't feel powerless. He felt… prepared.
Beyond the castle walls, the wind howled. In the deep silence of the night, the Forbidden Forest seemed to tremble—as if it knew what had just been set in motion.