Malivian’s boots echoed against the obsidian floors as he made his way to Dalia’s chambers. The wound on his shoulder throbbed beneath his hastily applied bandages, a reminder of the shadow raven’s talons.

  He and the other two had joined the creature’s previous chasers to pursue it. That venture had lasted for hours through the perpetual twilight of the Nightrealm. To assist them, they had added a group of other elite nightwalkers, but the beast had proven remarkably resilient no matter how many times they had cornered it.

  He paused outside the ornate black doors of Dalia’s bedroom, taking a moment to compose himself. He was not accustomed to reporting failure, but he would have to make an exception today. With a deep breath, he knocked.

  “Enter please,” Dalia’s voice called from within.

  He pushed open the door to find Dalia standing by her balcony, her silhouette outlined against the crimson twilight sky. She wore a simple black silk robe, her dark hair cascading down her back like a waterfall of midnight. She didn’t turn to face him as he entered.

  “Is it dead?” She asked, her voice quiet but commanding.

  Malivian bowed his head, though she couldn’t see the gesture inflicted,

  “No, my lady. It escaped somewhere into the outer reaches of the realm.” He straightened, forcing confidence into his voice. “But it will not live long. The wounds we inflicted, especially yours across its larynx, were severe. Even its atrocious ability of regeneration would do it no good at this point.”

  Dalia turned then, her pale face expressionless as she studied him. Her black eyes revealed nothing of her thoughts, but Malivian had served her long enough to sense her concern.

  “That is not what worries me sweet Malivian,” she said, moving away from the balcony.

  She gestured for him to sit in one of the ebony chairs near her hearth, where blue and black flames danced, casting strange shadows across the room.

  “The attack wasn’t random, Malivian. It was tactical.”

  Malivian lowered himself onto the chair, wincing slightly as his injury complained.

  “Tactical? You still believe someone sent it specifically to attack you?” Malivian asked.

  “I do.” Dalia paced slowly, her robe whispering against the floor.

  “The creature went straight for me, ignoring easier targets. It broke through my ceiling, the most direct route to where I was seated. It knew where to find me.”

  “But who would dare attack an Origin?” Malivian asked, his brow furrowed. “Who would even possess the power to create a creature capable of it?”

  Dalia laughed, a brittle sound devoid of humor.

  “That’s precisely what troubles me. These beasts have an aura that feels older than creation itself. I feel is all connected.”

  She stopped her pacing, looking directly at him.

  “Something is trying to take over my realm. Who knows, maybe the entire underworld. Something ancient and powerful.”

  The gravity of her words hung heavy in the air between them. Malivian straightened in his chair, ignoring the pain in his shoulder.

  “I won’t allow that to happen,” he said firmly. “The nightwalkers are rallying. We’ve already doubled the guards at all the settlements and tripled them around your palace. Nothing will hurt you here.”

  Dalia nodded absently, as if she’d barely heard him. She moved to her dressing table and picked up a small obsidian box. Opening it, she removed a pendant — a silver crescent moon on a black chain.

  “What is that for?” Malivian asked, perplexed

  She turned to face union again, a decision visibly forming in her eyes.

  “I may have to join the Union.”

  The statement hung in the air like a confession. Malivian couldn’t hide his surprise. For fifty years, Dalia had steadfastly refused all invitations to join the Union of Origins, preferring to rule her realm in solitude. Just yesterday, she had denied his council to join the union. He knew that if she was thinking of joining, she must have been desperate.

  “Are you certain?” he asked carefully. “You’ve always feared joining the union for ill-judgement of you and our realm.”

  “I have,” she confirmed.

  “But it also could provide protection. If these attacks continue to escalate... I may need the combined strength of other Origins.” She sighed, reaching up to tie the moon pendant at his throat.

  “Desperation sometimes makes the most unlikely cause of bravery.”

  “I still do not know what this pendant is for. "

  “It is to recognize you as supreme ruler of the Nightrealm as I go find us some re-enforcements,”

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  “I am truly honored,” said Malivian, bowing down graciously

  “I knew you would be.”

  The nightwalker studied his mistress with concern. In all the decades he had served her, he had never seen her consider allying with the other Origins. She did fear judgement from her other siblings about ruling a realm just on carousing the fearsome chasm.

  Malivian had often in the past tried to dismiss her concerns as silly, but with the current state of the realm, the usual malevolence that stifled its aura could be more easily detected, potentially derailing his queen’s confidence and psyche. He thought it smart to at least affirm whether she really desired to go ask for help from her siblings.

  “If I may speak freely,” he began, “are you sure this is necessary? The nightwalkers are powerful in their own right. With proper organization, we could...”

  “Two of my most skilled fighters fell to a single creature. And there will be more of them...I can feel it.”

  She closed her eyes briefly. “The darkness that creates these beasts... it’s not mine but is clearly out to destroy what is.”

  The implication chilled him. If not Dalia’s, then whose darkness was it? She was the Origin of night, the source of all shadows in creation. She ran a hand through her blonde hair, a rare gesture of frustration.

  “Something is stirring, Malivian. Something that frightens even me.”

  The admission struck him deeply. In all their years together, he had never heard Dalia confess fear.

  “Then we will face it together, my lady,” he said, rising to his feet.

  “That I promise you.”

  A ghost of a smile touched Dalia’s lips, clearly looking upon him like a pup trying to protect its mother.

  “Your loyalty has always been your most admirable quality. But I’m afraid this is beyond even your considerable abilities. Best you can do for me is to rule the realm while I am away.”

  “What will you do?” Malivian asked

  She moved toward her writing desk and pulled out a sheet of parchment.

  “I will compose a letter to Helus. He’s been seeking my membership for decades. I’m sure he’ll be pleased, I would have no idea why honestly but I am sure he will be pleased regardless.”

  Malivian watched as she dipped her quill in ink as black as her eyes.

  “Are you absolutely sure this is necessary?” He asked, unable to keep the concern from his voice.

  Dalia looked up at him, her expression resolute.

  “I am desperate. And desperation requires sacrifice...even if that sacrifice is my pride.”

  She wrote, her elegant script flowing across the parchment. Malivian stood silently, respecting her decision even as he worried. He knew Dalia was his origin and his queen, but he could not help but feel responsible for her.

  After several minutes, Dalia finished the letter and sealed it with black wax, pressing her crescent moon sigil into it.

  “Have this delivered to Hel immediately,” she instructed, handing him the letter. “And then gather a council of Black Square’s leaders. We need to prepare for my absence during the meeting.”

  “When will you leave?” Malivian asked, accepting the letter carefully.

  “As soon as Helus responds. The anniversary meeting is in three days. I should arrive just in time, especially if I take the Golden River.” She turned away, moving back to the balcony. “And Malivian...”

  “Yes, my lady?”

  “Double the patrols in the outer settlements, especially Golden Shores, River Gates and Night Gates. I want every nightwalker armed and vigilant. If more of these creatures appear, I want to know immediately.”

  “It will be done,” he promised, bowing formally before turning to leave.

  As he reached the door, Dalia’s voice stopped him once more.

  “Malivian?”

  He turned back. “My lady?”

  In the dim light, her pale face seemed almost ghostly, her black eyes reflecting the dancing shadows from the hearth.

  “If something happens to me... protect the realm.” She instructed.

  The request sent a chill through him.

  “As I said earlier, nothing will happen to you,” he replied firmly.

  A sad smile touched her lips. “I fear it is possible even Origins can fall. History has yet to prove it, but...there’s always a first time.”

  Her words followed him as he left her chambers, the sealed letter heavy in his hand. Outside, the crimson twilight of the Nightrealm stretched endlessly in all directions, beautiful and serene as it had been since the day of creation.

  But for the first time, Malivian looked at the shadows with suspicion, wondering which ones might suddenly rise and take form. Which ones might not answer to Dalia’s command.

  Which ones might be harbingers of something older and darker than creation itself.

  Hours later, Malivian stood on one of the palace’s observation towers, watching as a messenger departed for the Underworld, Dalia’s letter secure in a protective case. The distant figure soon disappeared into the permanent twilight that blanketed the realm.

  His shoulder had been properly treated now, but the pain lingered a constant reminder of their failure to destroy the shadow raven. He replayed the battle in his mind, analyzing every moment. The creature’s strength had been unlike anything he’d encountered before, its wounds healing almost as quickly as they were inflicted.

  Only Dalia’s blade had seemed to cause lasting damage, cutting halfway through the beast’s neck before it escaped. But even an Origin’s weapon hadn’t been enough to kill it.

  What could create something so resilient? What power rivaled that of an Origin?

  The questions troubled him deeply as he descended the tower stairs and made his way to the council chamber where the remainder of the nightguard waited. Now reduced to four.

  When he entered, they rose in unison, bowing respectfully.

  “Commander Malivian,” the tallest of them greeted him. “We await your orders.”

  Malivian surveyed the elite nightwalkers. Dalia’s most trusted guardians after himself. Each had proven their loyalty and skill over decades of service.

  “Lady Dalia has made a decision,” he announced. “She will be joining the Union of Origins.”

  A ripple of surprise passed through the group, though their hooded faces revealed little.

  “Additionally,” Malivian continued, “our defenses must be strengthened immediately. Double the patrols in all settlements. Every nightwalker capable of combat is to be armed and ready.”

  “Do we know what is creating these creatures?” asked one, her voice soft but intense. “ How can we know when they attack next?”

  Malivian shook his head. “We can’t. But they possess an aura unlike anything in creation older, somehow. Lady Dalia believes something is attempting to infiltrate our realm.”

  “Something older than the Origins?” another questioned skeptically.

  “Apparently so,” Malivian replied. “And powerful enough to create beings that can withstand our weapons and magic.”

  The four nightwalkers exchanged glances, their uncertainty palpable despite their concealed faces.

  “How can we fight something like that?” the shortest among them asked.

  Malivian straightened, squaring his shoulders despite the pain.

  “I don’t know but I fear we have to learn. We will protect our realm and our Origin.” He looked at each of them in turn. “Lady Dalia will be leaving for Titania soon. In her absence, we must be especially vigilant.”

  He moved to a large map of the Nightrealm spread across the central table, indicating various points with his finger.

  “Strengthen the south border regions first. If more creatures appear from the void, I want to know immediately.”

  As the nightwalkers gathered around the map, discussing strategy and deployment, Malivian glanced toward the window. Outside, the eternal twilight continued unchanged, beautiful and serene. How long would it stay that way?