Chapter 27: When the Stars Burn

  The marble is cold beneath my bare feet. Cold as the ice of a tomb.

  The hall is vast and empty, and the shadows of the columns stretch like gigantic fingers trying to grasp me. At the end of the hall, on that black chair that served as a throne, a man sits. I don't see his face, only his silhouette, a mass of grief so heavy it bends the light around it. It is my father. And the scent of rain on cold stone fills my nose, the smell of endless regret.

  I run towards him, my small voice echoing in the void as if it doesn't belong to me. "Father!"

  I hear his heavy footsteps approaching from behind, and each step is a drumbeat in the silence of my frightened heart. He stands before me now, a massive shadow blocking everything.

  Why are his eyes so empty?

  He is sad. Very sad. And I cannot reach him.

  I scream, and the words tear in my small throat, the cry of a lost child in a world of adult shadows.

  "Save my father... please... he is sad... save him... someone... save him."

  My life was wonderful. I was working in the Order Enforcement Division, doing simple tasks, catching petty thieves, and returning home every evening. To my world. To the warmth of Clara's arms, and the clamor of my friends. I was happy, and I was giving all my love to my family, everything I had.

  But happiness was a thin, transparent shell, and I saw the darkness trembling beneath it.

  The nightmare that used to visit me once a month, started coming every night. Then every day. During naps, in moments of distraction, every time I closed my eyes. The dream of The Cut. I find myself floating in an endless black void, with an unknown sword in my hand. And I hear the command echoing from a void older than time itself: Cut. And I cut. I cut lines in the nothingness, and every cut is a silent scream.

  I would sometimes wake up screaming, to find Clara gently shaking me, her warm voice the only rope pulling me from the well of darkness. "It's alright, Deo," she would say, wiping the cold sweat from my forehead. "It's just a dream. I'm here."

  The first time it happened, I broke down. I told her everything. About the Magic Swordsman, the prophecy, the fear that I was nothing but a harbinger of destruction, and that all this happiness was just an illusion that I would destroy myself. She didn't laugh. She didn't mock. Instead, she hugged me tightly, and whispered in my ear: "You are not alone in this, Deo. Whatever this darkness is, we will face it together."

  Her presence was my shield. But I knew the shield was cracking. For every time I woke up from the dream of The Cut, I felt that cold void at the center of my being, the same void I felt for the first time that night with her, as if a part of me had leaked out and disappeared, a price I paid for this warmth.

  It was a stormy night, similar to that night. And suddenly, I woke up to an alarm tearing through the stillness of the night. It wasn't the Academy's alarm; it was the city's cry. A sharp, loud metallic scream, followed by a series of muffled explosions that shook the foundations of our mansion.

  "Deo!"

  I jumped out of bed, grabbed my sword, and ran with Clara to the balcony.

  Lutetia was burning.

  It wasn't just a fire; it was a hell that had descended upon the world. Savage orange flames were devouring the white towers that moments ago seemed eternal, turning them into giant torches. Columns of sticky black smoke were choking the sky, turning it into a sick purple dome.

  The sounds of explosions came from everywhere, mixed with the distant echo of thousands of screams carried by the wind. My home, my garden, my beautiful world... it was burning in front of me. And in the streets, I saw them. Black shadows moving with infernal speed amidst the flames. The Jacobins.

  "What the hell is going on?!" Isabella screamed beside me, as she and the others appeared on the balcony, and the raw terror in her voice was something I had never heard before.

  "I don't know," I said, holding her to prevent her from collapsing. "The communicators aren't working. Nothing is working."

  "Where are the Five Families? The Order Enforcement forces? Where are they?!" Alessandro yelled, his face pale.

  "We must go to the Black House," my voice was terrifyingly steady. "The President's house. Everyone will surely be there."

  I turned to Clara. Her hands were instinctively on her belly, her dark eyes wide with terror. "You will stay here. With Eva and Leonardo."

  "And I will stay here to protect them," Alessandro said firmly, the shock on his face turning into steel determination.

  I hugged him tightly. "Thank you, brother."

  "It's nothing, you fool. It's nothing," he said, patting my back hard.

  I returned to Clara. I held her face in my hands and kissed her a long, desperate kiss, a kiss carrying all my love, my fear, and my promise. "I will be back quickly. Nothing will happen. For our sake." I touched her belly. "I will be back quickly."

  Kairo, Isabella, and I took off, leaving behind our small island of safety in an ocean of fire. The journey through the city was a living hell. The smell of burnt silk, exploding stones, and charred flesh filled the air. We passed a street that hours ago was buzzing with cafes and music, and now held only corpses and rubble.

  We saw a mother trying to shield her child with her body from falling debris, and we saw the muffled laughter of the Jacobins as they killed with cold delight. We found some of our colleagues from the Order Enforcement squad fighting bravely. We helped them, but they were few. "We don't know! Suddenly the city burned, and they came out from every corner!"

  "It's impossible for a terrorist act of this level to pass right under the noses of the Five Families," Kairo said, launching a barrage of icy spears that pierced the bodies of three clowns.

  "There is betrayal," Isabella said, her voice cold as the ice of her tomb. "Betrayal from the highest levels."

  We finally reached the square in front of the Black House. Or what was left of it. The famous Lions Square had turned into a red square. The silence that followed the chaos was heavier and more terrifying than the screams themselves. The smell of cold rain mixed with the sharp metallic scent of fresh blood, creating a sickening perfume of death.

  But all my senses constricted and focused on one sight. One scene. On the main gate of the palace, where the stone lion statues stood proudly, there was a new, hideous work of art. Two heads. Hanging one above the other with a rope of dangling intestines. The falling rain was washing the blood from their pale faces, making strands of their hair stick to their foreheads, making them look as if they were crying eternal tears.

  The head of Ulrich Eisingard. And the head of Louis de Valois.

  Kairo collapsed to his knees. He didn't scream. Instead, he made a muffled sound, the sound of something breaking deep within his soul. "No... impossible..."

  Isabella put her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide with terror and disbelief. Power, authority, order... everything that represented our world, was now just dead flesh hung up for display.

  "We must get out of here as fast as possible!" Isabella screamed. "This situation is bigger than us!"

  But it was too late.

  He appeared from nowhere. He didn't descend from the sky or emerge from the shadows. Simply, one moment he wasn't there, and the next moment he was. A man dressed in white, with two broken stars on his chest. He stood calmly in front of the hanging heads, contemplating them as an artist contemplates his masterpiece in a museum.

  Then he slowly turned toward us.

  When his eyes settled on me, something strange happened. He bowed. An elegant, theatrical bow, filled with sarcastic respect. As if a noble was greeting another noble in a royal court.

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  "The Magic Swordsman," he said, his voice not loud, but calm, cultured, and carrying a tone of aristocratic boredom. "What an unexpected honor. I didn't expect to meet a figure of your stature in this wretched side show."

  I froze in my place. This being... wasn't just a killer. He was something else.

  He walked toward us with slow, measured steps, completely ignoring Kairo and Isabella, his eyes fixed on me. "I apologize for this mess," he said, gesturing with his hand at the scattered corpses. "But art sometimes requires some sacrifice. Don't you agree?" He stopped a few meters away.

  "Look at those heads. Aren't they beautiful? They are the opening poem. An announcement that the age of lies—the age of kings and presidents—is over. And now, the age of truth begins. The age of the Void."

  I felt weakness. A weakness I had never felt before. His power wasn't in his aura, but in his presence. In his absolute calm. He spoke of death and destruction as a philosopher discussing an abstract theory. He possessed a divine megalomania.

  "I have read about you," he continued, a faint smile forming on his clown face. "You too carry sadness within you. You too feel this void. You understand. So why hold onto this crumbling world?" He held out his hand, clad in a white glove. "Join us. Join the chorus of true creators.

  With us, you won't just be a harbinger of destruction. You will be the destruction itself. Together, we will punish this world for its existence, and restore it to its original beauty: silence, and nothingness."

  I looked at him, at his calm madness, and felt every bit of power I had built, every ounce of confidence I had gained, evaporate. In front of this being, I was just a child.

  But I couldn't remain silent. "You damned fool," I said, my voice sounding weak even to my own ears. "If I'm alive, this world will remain standing."

  The smile faded from his face. He looked at me, not with anger, but with genuine disappointment, like a teacher looking at a stupid student who refuses to understand the lesson.

  "What a pity," he said calmly. "You are still a dreaming child. You still cling to the illusion of hope."

  "If you are not an ally, you must die," the clown said with the same calm tone. Then he raised his hand. "Then, let this be your last lesson in the truth of weakness."

  I didn't feel an attack. I felt weight.

  A sudden, overwhelming weight, as if a dead star had suddenly appeared above us. The air bent, and the stones screamed under the pressure. I was crushed to my knees, then onto my face, and I felt every bone in my body screaming under the unbearable gravity. Beside me, I heard Kairo and Isabella let out muffled cries of pain. I was helpless. Absolutely weak. All my strength, all my magic, all my will... it was just dust under this cosmic pressure.

  He approached me slowly, and his footsteps were the only sound in the world. "You could have lived, Magic Swordsman. You could have been great."

  I saw his elegant white shoe stop next to my head.

  No... I won't die like this.

  The screaming started inside me. A silent, desperate scream. I searched the depths of my soul for that cold void, for the power I knew resided in me. For the beast.

  Come on... I whispered in my mind.

  There was nothing. The void I was searching for was truly empty. The power I summoned in the Academy... was no longer there. A memory struck me like lightning: Clara's warmth, our night together, and that strange feeling of something leaving me. Did I give it to her? Did my love for her... steal my demon from me?

  Real terror, deeper than any physical pain, engulfed me. I had given up my last weapon for moments of warmth.

  "No... NO!" I screamed in the silence of my mind. "Come on, wake up! Please, stand! Stand! Wake up!"

  I was begging. Begging the sleeping beast within me to wake up and save the man who had become weak because of it. I was screaming at myself, at my destiny, at this love that had made me powerless.

  The clown raised his hand to stab me and end it.

  And suddenly, darkness exploded from everywhere. Hundreds of black crows appeared, and a person emerged from the shadows and said: "Die."

  The clown dodged at the last moment and laughed. "You came early, Layla Knoxville."

  It was the Headmistress. The overwhelming pressure suddenly vanished. I managed to lift my head with difficulty and saw her standing there, an aura of cold darkness and rage surrounding her. She undid the gravity spell on us, and looked at the hanging heads, her purple eyes blazing with terrifying calmness. "I will avenge you, Ulrich and Louis."

  She looked at us, and her gaze held no pity. "Run now." She said as an undeniable command. "We have entered a state of war. You children are truly living in a difficult time."

  And with a touch of her shadow, the darkness swallowed us and transported us away from that execution square, leaving the goddess of death to face a demon from hell.

  We returned home. We found Alessandro fighting bravely at the entrance against a group of clowns. But suddenly, another clown appeared in the middle of the garden, laughing hysterically. He was wearing white, with a single broken star.

  "Run!" I shouted. "Take Clara, Eva, and Leonardo! Please!"

  Isabella grabbed the hesitant Clara's hand and carried her. "Come on!" She ran, along with Alessandro, who was carrying Eva and Leonardo.

  "Run! Run!" the clown yelled. "Yes, that's how I want you! Like sheep, running to your doom!"

  Kairo remained standing beside me. He looked at me and laughed a humorless laugh. "You won't tell me to run, will you?"

  I laughed too, feeling the blood flowing hot in my veins. "Why would I tell you to run, you damned fool? You will die with me here, or we will kill him together."

  The clown looked at us, his hysterical laughter filling the destroyed garden. "Run! Run! Yes, that's how I want you! Like sheep, running to your doom! There is no place the Jacobins won't reach! We will punish the entire world!"

  Then Kairo attacked first.

  It wasn't a single attack; it was a symphony of destruction. He launched a barrage of sharp icy spears, not at the clown, but at the ground around him, turning the dirt floor into a deceptive, unstable ice field. At the same time, he summoned a fierce wall of wind behind the clown, cutting off his escape route and confining him.

  "Deo, now!" Kairo shouted.

  This was my chance. I lunged forward, the Sword of Life gleaming in my hand. I slid on the ice Kairo had formed, using it to increase my speed. The clown, who was busy parrying the ice spears, turned at the last moment. He blocked with his black sword, and the sound of sharp metallic collision echoed.

  This was our dance. Kairo was the mastermind, controlling the battlefield from afar, changing its terrain, limiting the clown's options, and creating opportunities for me. And I was the blade, exploiting every chance, every gap, and pressing him up close.

  But the clown was dancing with us. He dodged my attacks with infernal agility, and launched waves of darkness that swallowed Kairo's magic as if it were nothing. He was laughing, a loud, crazy laugh, and he seemed to be enjoying it.

  "Marvelous! Marvelous!" he yelled, parrying a strike aimed at his neck. "I haven't seen this kind of harmony in a long time! You two remind me of two of my old colleagues! But I killed them too!"

  He launched a wave of darkness that pushed me back. Kairo felt the pressure and decided to change tactics.

  "Deo, I need three seconds!"

  I understood what he wanted to do. He was going to use one of his destructive spells, one that required full concentration.

  "You got it!" I yelled, putting all my energy into the attack. I was no longer defending; I became a hurricane of water, ice, and steel, attacking the clown non-stop to fully occupy his attention.

  In the back, Kairo began gathering Stone energy. I felt the air around him become heavy, saturated with power. He was crafting a stronger version of the Obsidian bullet he had used against me.

  But the clown noticed. His laughter stopped suddenly.

  "Arrogant fool."

  Instead of parrying my attack, he completely ignored me. For a moment, he left himself open to me. But he wasn't looking at me. He was looking at Kairo. He disappeared into the shadow, and in a fraction of a second, he appeared directly in front of Kairo, who was about to release his spell.

  "No!" I screamed.

  It was too late. The clown struck Kairo with a claw of pure darkness, piercing his chest. The energy Kairo had gathered exploded randomly, shaking the foundations of the mansion.

  Kairo fell to the ground, blood spilling from his mouth, unconscious.

  Now I was alone.

  The clown looked at me, his smile wider and crazier. "Now, where were we?"

  I was no longer fighting to win. I was fighting to survive. Everything I learned from Philip, every trick, every move, I threw at him. I changed the reality around us, turning it into a snowy mountain, then into an erupting volcano, in a desperate attempt to confuse him. But he shattered my illusions easily, and laughed.

  The fight continued for what felt like an eternity. Hours passed. The sun began to rise, and its first rays crept through the shattered windows, illuminating the battle dust. I could no longer feel my body. My sword arm weighed a ton. My lungs were burning with every breath. I was slower, weaker.

  "That damned Kairo..." I thought as I dodged an attack that almost cut me in half. "Did he die before me and leave me alone?"

  I was on the verge of collapsing. I saw the clown raising his black sword, preparing to deliver the killing blow. He was laughing, confident in his victory.

  At that moment, from the rubble of the fight, Kairo rose to one knee. His face was pale, his wound bleeding profusely, but his eyes were blazing. He didn't cast an offensive spell. Instead, he reached his hand toward the ceiling, and whispered one word: "Heavy."

  Suddenly, a massive section of the ceiling collapsed directly onto the clown. It wasn't a lethal attack, but it was a surprise. The clown was momentarily startled, and forced to jump backward to avoid the debris.

  "Stubborn insect!" the clown screamed in anger, and turned toward Kairo, launching a wave of darkness that knocked him out and made him lose consciousness definitively this time.

  But he gave me what I needed. A moment. A chance.

  I gathered the last of my energy, every drop of my will. It wasn't a clever trick; it was a desperate scream. I created a thousand illusory copies of myself, filling the entire garden.

  "Do you think that will work again?!" the clown yelled, but I saw the fatigue in his eyes too.

  He attacked the copies frantically, trying to find me. But this time, due to exhaustion and anger, he missed. He attacked a copy to his right, while I was to his left.

  This was my last chance.

  I lunged with all the speed I had, the Sword of Life screaming in my hand. I felt the resistance of his body as I pierced it, then the sticky warmth of the blood.

  His laughter finally stopped.

  I cut off his head.

  His body fell, and I fell to my knees. I was covered in wounds, on the verge of death. Everything hurt. I slowly crawled toward Kairo's motionless body. I placed my trembling hand on his neck.

  A pulse.

  It was weak, but it was there.

  That bastard... he's still alive. I smiled, feeling blood filling my mouth. Heh... but it seems... we'll die soon. Both of us.

  I looked at the beautiful and savage sunrise.

  I'm sorry, Clara. I wanted some beautiful children. Damn it... I didn't get to enjoy my marriage much... and all this happened. Why, I wonder?

  "You jerk... Kairo..." I whispered. "Wake up." But he didn't respond.

  I'm sorry, Clara. I'm sorry, my son whom I haven't seen... But I... I'll sleep a little.

  I closed my eyes, and before the darkness swallowed me, I saw someone running toward me.