"Do not touch the markings."
Nyxara's voice was sharp, almost panicked.
Aerys froze mid step.
The symbols burned into the ground pulsed faintly, as if reacting to his presence. They were carved deep into the earth, old enough that even the soil around them seemed afraid to forget.
"What are they?" he asked.
"An invitation," Nyxara replied. "And a threat."
The villagers stood far back, whispering among themselves. No one dared approach the square. Even the children had retreated, eyes wide and silent.
Aerys clenched his fists. "The council did this."
"Yes."
"To frighten them?"
"No," Nyxara said softly. "To claim you."
Aerys looked down at his hands again. The trembling had not stopped. Beneath his skin, something moved. Not pain. Not hunger.
Awareness.
"I did not agree to this," he said.
Nyxara met his gaze. "The gods never ask."
They left the settlement before the sun reached its peak.
Aerys insisted. The villagers did not protest.
"They believe misfortune follows you now," Nyxara said as they crossed the outer fields.
"They are not wrong."
She studied him carefully. "You feel it already."
He nodded. "I hear things."
"When?"
"Whenever I stop thinking."
Nyxara slowed her steps. "And what do you hear?"
"Fear," Aerys said. "Not mine."
Her breath caught.
"That should not happen," she murmured.
"Explain."
She hesitated. "Alphas command instinct. Gods command belief."
"And I am doing both."
"Yes."
Silence fell between them, heavy with implications neither of them wanted to name.
They reached the ruins by dusk.
Broken stone towers jutted from the earth like bones. This place had once been sacred, before the council rewrote history and buried inconvenient truths.
Nyxara stopped at the edge.
"I cannot go further," she said.
Aerys turned. "Why?"
"This ground recognizes me," she replied. "Too well."
Aerys frowned. "You have been here before."
"I was made here."
The word settled cold in his chest.
"Made how?"
Nyxara did not answer. Instead, she pressed her palm to the stone. The air shimmered.
Aerys felt it immediately.
The pressure behind his eyes. The pull in his chest.
"What is this place?" he asked.
"A forge," Nyxara said. "For divinity."
Aerys took a step back. "I do not want this."
"You may not get a choice."
Night fell quickly.
They lit no fire.
Nyxara sat with her back against a fallen pillar, knees drawn close, watching the dark with unnatural focus.
"You are afraid," Aerys said quietly.
She looked at him. "Of you?"
"No," he replied. "For me."
Her gaze softened, just slightly.
"You are changing faster than they expected," she said. "That makes you dangerous."
"To them."
"To yourself."
Aerys leaned against the stone opposite her. "Tell me the truth."
She hesitated.
"I was not sent to kill you," Nyxara said at last.
"I assumed as much."
"I was sent to decide," she continued. "Whether you were worth ending the cycle."
Aerys let out a slow breath. "And have you decided?"
Nyxara looked away. "Not yet."
"That is not comforting."
"It should be," she replied. "It means you still have time."
The dream came without warning.
Aerys stood in a vast hall of light and shadow. Figures watched from beyond the edges, faceless but attentive.
You resist what you are owed, a voice echoed.
"I do not owe you anything," Aerys said.
You were shaped for this.
"I was shaped to rule," he replied. "Not to replace you."
Laughter rippled through the hall.
Every god begins as a ruler who refuses to kneel.
Aerys felt something press against his chest.
Accept us.
"No."
The pressure increased.
Aerys dropped to one knee, teeth clenched.
"I will not become what you are," he said.
Then you will become worse.
He woke with a gasp.
Nyxara was beside him instantly, a hand gripping his shoulder.
"You heard them," she said.
"Yes."
"Did you answer?"
"Yes."
Her fingers tightened. "That was foolish."
"I am tired of being obedient."
Nyxara searched his face. "They will escalate."
"So will I."
She flinched. "Do not say that."
"Why?"
"Because the last Alpha who said those words burned the world," she whispered.
Aerys held her gaze. "And did it end?"
Nyxara swallowed. "No."
"Then perhaps," he said quietly, "it was not burned enough."
They did not see the watcher.
Not until it was too late.
The air shifted. Shadows stretched unnaturally long.
Nyxara rose slowly. "We are not alone."
Aerys drew his blade.
A figure stepped from the darkness, cloaked in council sigils.
A Seer.
"You are far from the throne, my lord," the Seer said calmly.
Aerys positioned himself in front of Nyxara. "Speak quickly."
The Seer's gaze flicked to her. "She complicates things."
"She is not yours."
"Nothing is yours anymore," the Seer replied. "The gods have claimed you."
Nyxara's voice was cold. "You are late."
The Seer smiled faintly. "We needed to be sure."
"Of what?" Aerys demanded.
"That you would refuse," the Seer said. "A willing god is useless."
Aerys felt the truth of it settle heavy in his bones.
"What do you want?" he asked.
"To offer you a choice," the Seer replied. "One last illusion of it."
Nyxara turned sharply. "Do not listen."
The Seer raised a hand.
"Return to the throne," he said. "Submit to ascension. Spare her."
Aerys went still.
"And if I refuse?"
The Seer's eyes met Nyxara's.
"She will be unmade."
Nyxara inhaled sharply but said nothing.
Aerys felt something inside him fracture.
"You said you were not sent to kill me," he said to Nyxara.
"I was not," she replied quietly.
"But they will kill you."
"Yes."
Aerys stepped forward.
"Then listen carefully," he said to the Seer. "I will not ascend."
The Seer smiled. "Then you choose annihilation."
Aerys's voice was steady.
"No," he said. "I choose her."
Nyxara turned to him sharply. "Aerys, do not."
He met her gaze.
"I have ruled without choice my entire life," he said. "This one is mine."
The Seer's smile vanished.
"Then so be it."
The ground trembled.
The sky split open with light.
Nyxara grabbed Aerys's hand.
"This will not end here," she said urgently. "Whatever you become next, it will be hunted."
Aerys tightened his grip.
"Then stay," he said.
Nyxara met his eyes as the world began to tear itself apart.
Her voice was barely a whisper.
"If I stay," she said, "there will be no return for either of us."
Aerys did not let go.
"Then do not leave."
The light swallowed them whole.
Aerys did not sleep again.
He sat with his back against the stone, eyes open, listening to the quiet. Not the ordinary kind. This silence carried weight, as if the world itself was waiting for him to speak.
Nyxara watched him from across the ruins.
"You are holding it back," she said.
"Holding what?" Aerys asked without looking at her.
"The impulse," she replied. "To answer them."
"I am not answering anyone."
Nyxara rose and approached slowly, stopping just out of reach. "That is not what I mean. You are learning how to deny response. That skill usually takes decades."
"I do not have decades."
She studied his face. "No. You have momentum."
Aerys finally turned to her. "Tell me something. When they made you here, did you feel it?"
Nyxara's jaw tightened. "Feel what?"
"The moment you stopped being yours."
Silence stretched.
"Yes," she said at last. "I felt it very clearly."
"And did anyone warn you?"
"No."
Aerys looked down at the stone beneath his palm. It was warm.
"I will not let that happen to me," he said.
Nyxara's expression softened, then hardened again. "Intent does not prevent transformation."
"Then what does?"
She hesitated. "Attachment."
Aerys looked up sharply.
"That is why they fear you choosing me," she continued. "Attachment fractures inevitability."
"Is that why you keep your distance?" he asked.
Nyxara did not answer immediately.
"Yes," she said quietly. "And because if you anchor yourself to me, they will try to destroy us both."
Aerys stood.
"Then let them try."
The ruins responded.
Stone groaned beneath their feet. The air thickened again, heavier this time.
Nyxara's breath hitched. "Aerys. Control it."
He closed his eyes, forcing the sensation inward. The pressure receded, but not entirely.
Nyxara stared at him, fear finally unmasked.
"You are no longer waiting for permission," she whispered.
"No," Aerys replied. "I am waiting for them to make a mistake."
Somewhere beyond the ruins, something shifted.
And the watcher took its first step forward.