Chapter 146: Illusions and Last Sacrifices
Eiren’s POV
They ran as if death itself were snapping at their heels—because in that terrifying moment, it truly was. They knew with absolute certainty that if the bloodthirsty mob caught them, their lives would end right there on the cobblestones of Katula.
With every sharp turn into the winding alleyways, Eiren felt his bones ache and his lungs burn. Kaevian never let go of his wrist, dragging him relentlessly through the chaos. They slammed headfirst into wooden produce carts, sending apples and bread tumbling across the street, slid under filth-covered clotheslines, and vaulted frantically over market stalls as screaming citizens pursued them with pitchforks and drawn blades.
"I need to open a portal out of here!" Kaevian gritted out through clenched teeth.
He thrust his free hand forward, attempting to tear a rift in space, but the sparks of dark magic flickered violently and died before a gateway could form. He tried again and again, sweat pouring down his pale face, but the realm refused to obey his command.
Eiren watched him in silent dread, his heart hammering against his ribs so wildly he could hear the frantic rhythm drumming in his ears.
This was the end. They were going to die.
"Can’t you cast one of your illusions?!" Kaevian panted, dragging Eiren around a corner into a dead-end alley. "Turn us invisible for just a minute until I can force a portal open!"
Eiren nodded weakly. Closing his eyes, he pressed two fingers to his forehead, drawing upon the absolute last reserve of his magical core. He channeled his glamor, weaving a subtle aura over their senses.
Instantly, the loud, bloodthirsty roars of the market faded away. The dirt-caked alley vanished, replaced by a serene, sunlit forest filled with towering trees and a gentle, quiet breeze.
It was a mirage, a fragile illusion, and Eiren knew it wouldn’t last. He could feel his spell fraying at the edges with every ragged breath he took.
The moment the forest domain took hold, Kaevian released Eiren’s wrist and collapsed against the trunk of a broad oak tree, gasping for air. "Give me the water... please," he wheezed, stretching out a trembling hand.
Eiren reached into his travel satchel, pulled out the glazed ceramic flask, and handed it over.
"I’ll figure a way out of this kingdom, I promise," Kaevian muttered weakly before raising the flask to his lips and taking a heavy, desperate gulp. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and passed the flask back to Eiren, who took a small sip himself before tucking it away.
Eiren let out a long, hollow sigh, sliding down the trunk of a neighboring tree until he was sitting in the grass, his head resting heavily against the bark. "How are we supposed to escape?" he asked softly.
"I tried to tear a spatial rift to Verolona’s border, but the spatial ley lines aren’t responding," Kaevian groaned, tearing at his hair in frustration. "In this newly restored Katula, dark magic is heavily suppressed... How long can you hold this illusion?"
"Only a few more moments," Eiren replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "We haven’t eaten or rested since the tower blast... the gnawing hunger is draining whatever strength I have left."
Yet deep down, Eiren knew it wasn’t just hunger or physical exhaustion weakening him. It was the rot inside his own soul, the dark corruption that had steadily eroded his magic and crippled Kaevian’s spellcasting.
Kaevian let out a frustrated growl, slamming his fist against the tree trunk. "I refuse to die like a dog in the dirt!" he muttered over and over, forcing himself back onto his feet. "I have to get out of this realm... I have to make those bastards pay for what they did to my sister!"
Eiren lifted his head slowly, his long, heavy lashes fluttering as he looked up at his companion. "And what is your grand plan? What do you suggest we do?"
Kaevian went quiet for a beat, staring down at Eiren with a cold, calculating gaze. Slowly, he raised a finger, pointing it straight at Eiren’s chest.
"One of us has to be sacrificed so the other can survive," Kaevian declared flatly. "It’s the only logical way."
Eiren didn’t flinch. He simply stared at him with hollow, unblinking eyes.
"I know you probably hate me for saying it, but I cannot die here," Kaevian continued, his tone hardening. "I am the only one strong enough, ruthless enough, to exact vengeance on Prince Azriel and that useless omega consort! If I die and you somehow live, you’ll just soft-heartedly forgive the prince the moment he looks at you! You still love him, and you would never give him the painful death he deserves!"
"So... sacrifices must be made?" Eiren finished softly Using Kaevian’s favorite words on him.
Kaevian let out a sigh of relief, nodding eagerly. "Exactly. I’m glad you understand. I don’t have to waste time explaining myself."
"Yes..." Eiren let out a soft, breathy sound that twisted into a low, bitter laugh. "We all have to die eventually... so I suppose a sacrifice should be made at the right time."
His laughter grew louder, echoing strangely through the illusionary forest—until he suddenly doubled over, violently coughing up a dark pool of blood onto the grass.
"What...?" Kaevian started to speak, but before he could finish, his knees buckled out from under him. He collapsed hard onto the dirt, clutching his abdomen as a hot, agonizing fire tore through his internal organs. Blood spilled from his lips. "What is this?! What did you do to me?!"
Eiren didn’t answer right away. He continued to laugh softly, tears mixing with the blood tracing down his chin. The sensation in his gut felt like boiling acid, turning his insides to ash, making his heart hammer in a terrifying, erratic rhythm.
"You bastard!" Kaevian screamed in agony, writhing on the ground. "What did you do?!"
Eiren stopped laughing, wiping the dark crimson from his mouth with a trembling hand. "I allowed my foolish, covetous desire for the prince to blind me... and that is why I am dying here. Would my life..." He paused, coughing up another wave of blood. "...would our lives have turned out differently if we hadn’t let greed consume us? Would Slyven, Lioren, or my faithful servant still be alive today? Would our families still be whole?’’
"You..." Kaevian gasped for air, his vision blurring as he forced his upper body off the ground. "You poisoned the water... You slipped Letiti root into the flask... tasteless, odorless... no antidote..." He coughed violently, dark blood splattering across Eiren’s robes.
"You still don’t understand the reality of our situation, do you?" Eiren scoffed weakly, gazing at him with pity. "You are still trapped in your pathetic little delusion. Seraphel can’t be killed! he is favored! I knew the moment we were cornered that you would sacrifice me just like you sacrificed everyone else. The only way to break this cycle... was to end you myself."
"I can’t die here!" Kaevian shrieked, crawling toward Eiren on his stomach, his fingers clawing into the dirt. "You bastard!" Tears streamed down his face as his body betrayed him. "We could have conquered realms! We could have been gods!"
He reached out with trembling, blood-stained hands, wrapping his fingers around Eiren’s throat—but he had no strength left to press down. His grip was weak, shivering uselessly against Eiren’s skin.
Eiren turned his face toward Kaevian, tears spilling over his lashes. "It was a long, terrible journey... and it is time we let our greed die. It ends right here, Kaevian."
Kaevian’s shaking hands slipped from Eiren’s neck, his body slumping heavily against Eiren’s chest.
"Do you think..." Kaevian whispered, his voice fading into a barely audible rasp, "...do you think things could have been different? Could we have been friends with Seraphel... if we hadn’t let greed take everything from us?"
He didn’t wait for an answer. Kaevian’s breath hitched one last time, his body going cold and limp as life left his eyes.
Eiren stared up at the illusionary sky, the fake forest around them flickering and crumbling back into the dark, filthy alleyway of the market.
"We could have been friends..." Eiren whispered into the quiet air, his sight darkening around the edges.
As the world dissolved into total blackness, Eiren didn’t picture the power he sought, nor the riches he had lost. In his final breath, the image of only one person filled his fading mind—the handsome, stern face of Prince Azriel.
With a quiet sigh, Eiren surrendered to the dark.