The throne room was bathed in silver light, the moon shining through a gaping hole in the ceiling. Silence hung thick – until it was broken by two soft sounds. One was the quiet scraping of black chalk on cracked stone, drawn by figures clad in dark, tattered robes. The other was a faint tapping, rhythmic and deliberate, coming from the throne.
The queen sat motionless, tapping the armrest with one hand, while the other was brought to her lips, which she bit gently in thought. A breeze drifted through the broken ceiling, stirring her short dark red hair. Her eyes – dull cyan, softly glowing – watched the robed figures intently as they inscribed the runes onto the floor of her throne room.
"To think… it's finally happening."
She whispered, half to herself as she glanced up to the rafters, where hundreds of ravens perched in still silence. Their feathers were void of light, their sharp eyes glowing with an unnatural purple hue, all of them staring down at the unfolding ritual.
Minutes passed. The sigil neared completion – a sprawling pentagram, its five points inscribed with cryptic runes drawn onto the cracked floor.
The figures completed their work.
The queen covered her face briefly, stifling a smile. Straightening her black tiara – its centrepiece a softly pulsing cyan gem – she couldn't help but laugh.
"I was starting to think it would never happen. I spent so long collecting everything the creature asked for… I almost believed it had sent me on an impossible errand… But not anymore."
Her voice sharpened.
"Bring them."
At her command, four additional robed figures entered, each bearing a small wooden box. Silently, they moved to four points of the pentagram. One by one, the boxes opened, revealing their offerings:
From within, they placed four objects:
A black heart, darker than any shadow.
A green leaf, fresh and untouched by time.
A piece of coral, damp as though freshly plucked from the sea.
A small, cracked glass sphere, no larger than a child's palm.
Her chest trembled as she rose from the throne. Each step toward the fifth point of the pentagram was measured and deliberate.
"A thousand years of rest… No longer."
Holding out her hand, the room's shadows deepened as her own shadow moved up her body, covering her hand. As the shadow receded, a vial of golden light appeared on her palm. With care, she unstopped the vial. Holding it up, the golden essence floated free, drifting toward the pentagram's centre.
"I seek your aid."
She tossed the empty vial aside – the glass vial shattering against the wall as she extended her hand. From her own shadow, a thick tome rose and hovered into her grip. The ancient lock clicked open on its own, pages fluttering wildly. Glowing cyan script danced across the parchment.
Then, the black chalk ignited.
Cyan flames raced along the lines of the pentagram, lighting up the throne room with cold fire.
"My kingdom, my people are in danger. War rages and I fear if either side wins, the neutrality I have fought so hard to obtain will vanish. I seek… Leander – he who bore the title of Hero in an older age."
Moonlight intensified, beams colliding with shadow and golden light, all converging at the pentagram's centre. The collision twisted reality – the three elements spun, tightened, shrank… and vanished.
For a moment, nothing.
The space above the pentagram subtly shifted, imperceptible but undeniable. The cyan flame, drawn upward, vanished into that void.
"Heed my call!"
She cried.
"I brought everything you said I would need – the heart of the Beast born of darkness, a leaf from the Tree of Life, coral from the Guardian Reef, the inert core of an Aegis Series… and the essence of the Goddess! That is half our pact made! Answer me!"
She exclaimed, her body trembling.
The room's colour drained – moonlight, firelight from braziers on the throne room's walls, everything faded to grayscale. Only the colour of Melaine's eyes, the purple light in the eyes of her countless ravens and the cyan flame retained their hue.
A silence unlike any before settled. Then, a massive eye slowly opened – space itself parted at the pentagram's centre. A glowing, otherworldly eye made of pure cyan essence stared back at her.
Its gaze was crushing. Suffocating. She could not meet it for more than a second before having to look away, overwhelmed as its gaze bore into her very soul.
"Please…"
She whispered.
"I need him. Without him… I will lose everything."
She lifted her gaze.
"He is the only one who can save this world."
The eye observed her for a long moment. Then, without a sound, the offerings were drawn into its depths – one by one – consumed without resistance.
The cyan flames surged across the floor and converged at the centre of the pentagram. They burned brighter and brighter, yet the robed figures did not flinch.
The cyan flames roared to life, swelling with unnatural brilliance as they surged inwards. Rising with a hungry brightness that cast ghostly reflections across the throne room's ruined stone. The robed figures stood motionless, their silence unwavering, their fear buried beneath their queen's unshaken composure.
Like liquid flame, the azure glow flowed inward over the ancient stone floor moving harmlessly past the feet of the robed figures. It crept with purpose, tracing the pentagram's path, then converged at its centre, toward the heart of the pentagram – beneath the otherworldly eye. Inch by inch, it consumed the floor, until the centre was swallowed whole – no trace of stone remaining beneath the dancing light.
The flames grew taller, so tall they began to dance across the ceiling
Then, the eye spoke.
THE FIRST PACT
IS ANSWERED
The eye shut. The flames died, and colour returned to the room.
And lying at the centre where the pentragram had just been before being burnt away by the flames, was a man.
The queen staggered.
She averted her gaze, then flicked her wrist. Shadows swirled around the man's form and then vanished, leaving him clothed. He stirred. Eyes slowly opened –bright cyan, just like hers. His skin was pale. His long white hair fell past his shoulders.
His face was unreadable, though confusion creased his brow.
The queen raised her hand toward the robed figures.
"Leave us."
They obeyed without a word. Once the door swung shut with a heavy thud, she looked up to the ravens.
"That goes for you as well."
The ravens screeched as one, then took flight, vanishing into the night sky through the hole in the broken ceiling.
She returned her gaze to the man. For a moment, words failed her. Moonlight bathed them in silver stillness. Alone with the figure, she hesitated. Words tangled on her tongue.
'This… Reminds me of a story, of a knight meeting a princess.'
He tilted his head, then rolled his eyes and looked around. Spotting the door, he began to walk toward it at a steady pace, leaving the queen dumbstruck for a moment until she called out to him.
"H–hey, wait! Where are you going?!"
He stopped, glancing over his shoulder and answered flatly.
"You were not saying anything, just staring at me."
Stung by his tone, she frowned. Shaking her head, she gestured to their surroundings.
"Do you know where you are?"
He looked around again.
"Some ruined church? Looks ready to collapse at any second.."
She let out a dry, bitter laugh, glancing up at the ceiling's gaping hole.
"Sadly true… This place has seen better days. But that's why I summoned you."
She stepped forward.
"You are Leander. It is during your life… It is said you strove for peace. That you would protect the innocent no matter the cost. That is how you gained the title of Hero, the Hero of Peace. The Demon King and the Goddess. They both strive to destroy all I hold dear. Centuries of war against each other. It just isn't enough for them. I just wish to-"
She broke off, rushing forward and grabbing his arm as he neared the threshold.
"Stop!"
Breathing hard, she pulled him back into the room.
"I am-"
She composed herself, standing tall.
"I am Melaine. Lich Queen of the Undead Kingdom. I brought you back from death… to ask for your help. Will you?"
Without a moment's hesitation, Leander replied.
"No."
Almost flinching from his stern denial, Melaine stammered.
"I… I can offer you anything in my kingdom! Wealth. Power-"
He cut her off with a hard stare.
"You brought me back from the dead just to fight again. There's nothing you could offer me."
Walking away from the Lich Queen, the Hero left the throne room.
The door closed behind him.
Melaine stood there, stunned, rubbing her arm, standing in the silence he left behind. The echoes of the door slamming shut still rang faintly in the massive chamber. For a moment, she didn't move. She simply stared at the space where he had stood – as if, by will alone, she could bring him back.
But the room remained empty.
Moonlight still poured through the ruined ceiling, casting fractured silver patterns across the floor. The ravens had gone. The flames had faded. The ritual was done. And yet she felt no triumph.
Just silence.
With slow, weary steps – she simply returned to her throne, sinking onto its steps. She rested her head in her hands.