THE LOST CITY OF ELDARATH

Chapter 14 

The Betrayer's Return

The weight of Malek's words hung in the air, suffocating Alaric. He had made his decision—he would restore Eldarath, but on his terms. And yet, the path he had chosen was darker than he had imagined. As the rulers of Eldarath gathered around him, their cold eyes filled with unspoken promises, something inside him stirred. There was a gnawing feeling at the back of his mind, a sensation that something—someone—wasn't quite as they appeared.

Seraphine had been by his side through so much. She had fought with him, laughed with him, and shared secrets he had never dared to tell another soul. He trusted her. Or at least, he thought he did.

But as Malek's cold eyes scanned the ruins, taking in the spectacle of the long-forgotten city awakening from its slumber, Alaric's gaze lingered on Seraphine. She stood beside him, her expression unreadable, her hand resting lightly on the hilt of her dagger. There was something in the way she held herself, the way she looked at the rulers of Eldarath, that unsettled him. It was a look of awe. Not the awe of someone facing the lost rulers of an ancient city, but something more calculated, more knowing.

Seraphine met his gaze, and in that brief moment, the air between them shifted. She smiled—just a hint of a smile, but it was enough to send a chill down Alaric's spine. He had seen that smile before. It was the same smile she had worn when they first met, when she had shown him how skilled she was with her magic, how easily she could deceive others with her charm. But this smile was different. It was colder, more distant, as if she were seeing something Alaric could not.

Malek's voice cut through the tension like a blade. "The ritual begins soon. You will need your strength, Alaric."

Alaric nodded absently, his thoughts swirling. The words, however, felt distant. His attention was fixed entirely on Seraphine. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, that he had missed something vital. She had always been too careful, too skilled at hiding her true intentions.

Before he could say anything, Seraphine spoke softly, her voice carrying only to him. "We need to talk."

The words were innocent enough, but Alaric knew, deep down, that this wasn't just another conversation between allies. This was something more. The realization hit him like a wave, and suddenly, the illusion of trust he had built around Seraphine began to crumble.

Seraphine stepped closer to him, her eyes filled with something he couldn't place. "Alaric," she began, her voice low and almost soothing, "you've made a deal with them, haven't you? You've agreed to do their bidding. You've accepted the power that comes with it."

Alaric's breath hitched. "What are you saying?" he demanded, but his voice wavered with uncertainty. He felt the walls around him closing in, the very air thick with the weight of her words.

She didn't respond immediately. Instead, she took a step back, her gaze shifting toward Malek and the other rulers. A flicker of something dark passed through her eyes, something Alaric hadn't seen before. It was then that he realized—he had been blind. She had been playing him the entire time.

"You've always been so sure of yourself, Alaric," Seraphine continued, her tone cool and detached. "So eager to save the world, to be the hero. But you've never asked yourself why they chose you, why they waited for you. You're not the savior they need. You're the tool they want."

Alaric's stomach sank. The betrayal cut deeper than he expected. "What are you talking about?"

Seraphine's eyes darkened, and for the first time, he saw the true extent of the deceit in her expression. "You think I've been helping you for the good of Eldarath? For the good of the world?" She let out a bitter laugh. "I've been using you, Alaric. The witches—my coven—they've been guiding me all along. We've known about you, about the map, from the very beginning. You were never meant to save Eldarath. You were meant to unleash it. And now, you've done just that."

Alaric staggered back as if struck. His mind raced to process her words, but they didn't make sense. She had been with him, fighting beside him. She had shared in his mission to find Eldarath. How could this be true? How could she have deceived him so thoroughly?

"You... You've been working with the witches all along?" His voice was a whisper, barely audible.

Seraphine didn't flinch. She simply nodded, the weight of her betrayal heavy in her gaze. "I had no choice, Alaric. The witches saw the potential in you before anyone else. They knew that you were the key to unlocking Eldarath's power. And so, they made me their agent, their spy. I was tasked with guiding you, with ensuring that you did exactly what you've done. You've broken the seal, you've awakened the city, and now... now the power is ours."

Alaric's heart thundered in his chest, a mix of disbelief and fury surging through him. He had been a pawn in her game, just as much as he had been in the game of the rulers of Eldarath. She had been playing both sides, using him to get what she wanted. But why? Why betray him now, when they were so close to the city's power?

"I don't believe you," he whispered, his voice trembling with the weight of the realization. "You've been with me every step of the way, Seraphine. You've been... you've been my friend."

She looked at him then, her eyes filled with an emotion he couldn't quite place. "You think I wanted to deceive you? I didn't want to, Alaric. But this is bigger than both of us. This is about more than just you and me. This is about the power of Eldarath, and what it can bring to those who can wield it."

A cold silence stretched between them. The rulers of Eldarath watched the exchange, their expressions unreadable, their presence heavy with ancient power. They knew the moment of reckoning was near. They knew that Alaric's decision was the pivot upon which everything would turn.

Seraphine continued, her voice now hardened, as though she were speaking to a stranger rather than someone she had once cared for. "You've already done it, Alaric. The gate is open. The dark magic is flowing. There's no going back now. You can either join me, join the witches, and embrace the power of Eldarath... or you can try to fight us. But you'll lose. You can't defeat what you've unleashed."

Alaric's mind was reeling. The words she spoke rang true, but the heart of the matter lay in his own soul. He had trusted Seraphine with everything—his secrets, his hopes, and his dreams. She had been a beacon in the storm, a source of stability in a world turned upside down. And now, she was the betrayer, the one who had led him into darkness.

A sharp, bitter laugh escaped him, hollow and cold. "You've been using me," he said, the words tasting like poison. "You never cared for me. You only cared for your own gain."

Seraphine's eyes flashed with something between regret and bitterness. "I did care, Alaric. I did. But we can't go back. The magic of Eldarath is too powerful, too seductive. It was never just about us. It was about what we could become."

Alaric took a step back, his heart heavy with the weight of her betrayal. He had to make a choice, and this time, there was no room for hesitation. He could either accept the darkness that Seraphine and the witches offered, or he could stand against it, no matter the cost.

"You've made your choice, Seraphine," Alaric said, his voice steady, his resolve hardening. "And now I must make mine."

With those words, he turned away from her, stepping toward the rulers of Eldarath, the ones who had awakened from their slumber. But as he did, a part of him couldn't shake the feeling that his battle had only just begun. The future of Eldarath, of magic itself, now rested squarely in his hands. And he had no intention of letting it fall into darkness—not without a fight.