The Sin Eater Chronicles

While the small group tended to Princess Aiyara, the hallway beyond the antechamber stirred with sudden commotion. Masaru, standing guard near the door, heard a flurry of panicked voices and the clatter of armor. A second later, the heavy door was pushed open from outside, nearly knocking over a startled guard. At once, a palpable wave of tension rolled in.

Kida's head snapped up. She saw a flash of green, then recognized the sleek silhouette of the Dragon Empress stepping unchallenged into the chamber. Behind her, four or five startled palace guards tried to bar her way, but none mustered the will to physically restrain a dragon. The Empress's reptilian gaze swept over the small gathering as if assessing their threat level. Her presence radiated a quiet, intimidating power, the air itself seeming to hum around her.

Lord Ithildris appeared in her wake, though how he had followed so quickly was unclear. His silver hair caught the lamplight, and his eyes flicked anxiously around the room. The abrupt arrival of these two figures—who belonged more to legend than reality—froze the knights in place. One knight belatedly reached for his sword, but Masaru stepped forward, holding out an arm.

"Stop," the king consort commanded, voice taut. "Let them speak. You—" he directed his gaze at the Empress "—have trespassed enough in my palace this night. State your business quickly."

The Empress hardly spared him a glance, her amber-gold eyes fixing on the unconscious princess instead. Her expression was unreadable, poised between disdain and curiosity. Lord Ithildris hovered behind her, respectful but calm. The elves were known for diplomatic grace, yet he too radiated a sense of urgency.

Kida tensed, sliding closer to Aiyara protectively. Meilara rose halfway, fists clenched at her sides. "Why are you here?" the queen demanded. "We have enough chaos without dragons barging in. My daughter—" Her words strangled off as the Empress raised a single hand.

"She had a violent magical awakening, did she not?" The Empress's tone was so matter-of-fact that it stung. She stepped forward until she loomed over the couch where Aiyara lay. Kida's heart hammered as the Empress's gaze roamed the princess's motionless form.

Meilara's brow furrowed. "Nonsense. She was tested for magical aptitude years ago. We do that for every Masani child with even a chance of arcane gifts. She showed no resonance, no potential."

Ithildris spoke gently, "Human tests do not detect all forms of magic. Especially not one so ancient, so… primal. The signature that erupted in your hall was unmistakable: Pride. A sin devoured and unleashed."

A hush blanketed the room, broken only by the crackle of a torch. Kida's eyes widened, remembering the swirl of color and the unstoppable force. "You're saying that… Aiyara devoured Pride? That's not possible. She was never a mage."

The Empress regarded Kida with a faint sneer of condescension. "Mortal magic is quaint indeed. You speak of spells taught by incantation or rituals. But there exist deeper currents, old as the first breath of your race. Sin eating is but one branch of that primal power, and it rarely shows itself in those tested by mortal means. Pride is among the rarest, awakened only under extreme emotional conditions. You conjured a perfect storm for your daughter."

Meilara shook her head in denial, though the color drained from her face. "That can't be. If she possessed such a capacity, we would have known."

The Empress cast a slow, sweeping gaze at the scattered chairs, the wounded knights, the battered monarchy. "I suspect you refused to see the signs because they were not obvious. Pride is cunning. It feeds on hidden conflicts, slights, ambitions—like a slow-boiling pot. You gathered suitors hungry for power, dwarves proud of their craft, humans and beasts and dragons flaunting their status. All that petty ambition and arrogance… you laid out a feast for her. Tonight, she gorged herself without even knowing it."

The queen pressed a hand to her chest, as if her heart might pound its way free. "This is preposterous. She… she was fine. She never once showed such abilities."

"Because she never consumed enough sin to awaken," Ithildris explained softly. "Whatever final insult or challenge occurred, it must have tipped the balance. Pride flared inside her, beyond control."

Kida's stomach churned. She recalled the mocking voices of Prince Orin, Lord Davren, the baron, and how Aiyara's anger had risen. Could that truly have triggered a magical meltdown? She thought of how proud Aiyara was of Masan's customs, how fiercely she defended them. Did that pride in her culture become the catalyst?

Masaru advanced, half blocking the Empress from his daughter's couch. "If that's true—if she is a… devourer of sin—how do we cure it?" His voice shook with paternal protectiveness. "I want my daughter back, not this cursed—thing."

The Empress's lips curved in a chilly smile. "Cure? Sin eating is not a disease, mortal. It's a condition, an inheritance of ancient magic. There is no reversing it. She must learn to master it or be consumed by it. Pride especially is notorious for warping the host's mind."

Meilara refused to yield. She circled around, placing herself between the Empress and Aiyara. "Your words imply she'll become some monster if left unchecked. I refuse to believe she can't simply rid herself of it. We humans rid ourselves of curses all the time."

Ithildris's shoulders slumped a fraction, as though pitying their ignorance. "Not so with Pride. Some forms of mortal magic might be exorcised, but Pride is the root from which many other sins grow. It thrives on self-regard and the sense of justification. By the time your daughter awakens, she may not even resemble the person you knew—unless she's guided."

The queen's fists tightened. "Who can guide her? I've never heard of a single devourer of Pride in Masan." Her tone quivered with desperation. She looked from Ithildris to the Empress, silently demanding an answer.

The Empress moved as if bored by the entire conversation, her gaze flicking again to Aiyara. "Someone proficient in Pride could do it. Another devourer who survived the awakening. Failing that, your precious child may tear your city apart in a second outburst. She'll learn to feed on pride around her. And in Masan, pride is abundant, is it not?" She let out a soft, scornful laugh.

Masaru stepped closer, sword glinting in the low light. "And if we can't find such a teacher?"

The Empress shrugged with reptilian grace. "Then the dragons might be forced to intervene. We do not let uncontrolled sin devourers rampage across the lands, especially one as potent as Pride. We'd cull the pride of Masan."

A cold blade of dread slid through Meilara's chest. She recalled the Empress's talk of amusements earlier. Now, it felt more like a threat. "You will not touch my daughter," she said, voice shaking with fury and fear.

"Then you know your path," the Empress replied. She pivoted as though the conversation were concluded, ignoring the knights who had drawn weapons in panic. Lord Ithildris offered a short bow to the monarchy, murmuring an apology for intruding, though it felt more like a formality. In truth, he seemed as worried as the queen. But the Empress turned, robes whispering on the stone floor. "I have tarried enough among lesser races tonight. If you wish your daughter to live, you will find a solution. Otherwise, do not whine if the realm of dragons steps in."

Kida, heart hammering, watched as the Empress strode from the chamber, the guards stepping aside with glazed expressions. It was as if an invisible aura of command forced them to obey. Lord Ithildris paused at the threshold, casting the queen and king an apologetic look. "My people echo her concerns. This magic is older than mortal understanding. If the princess cannot master it, the consequences will be dire. I am sorry." With that, he too vanished into the corridor.

The knights exhaled, some trembling with pent-up adrenaline. Masaru turned to find Meilara gripping the back of a chair, her knuckles bone-white, her face taut with disbelief. Kida stared at the threshold where the Empress had disappeared, mind reeling with scenarios of a dragon-led purge. Only the princess remained silent in her forced slumber, the alleged epicenter of a dangerous new power. Tension thickened, suffocating them.

Kida's voice emerged in a hoarse whisper. "So it's real, then. Aiyara is a… devourer of Pride. That explains the unstoppable blast. She took in the arrogance and scorn of everyone around her and unleashed it. And now the dragons threaten to kill her if we fail to control it." She trembled, tears of helpless rage threatening.

Meilara forced her trembling lips to move. "This can't be. But if it is… we must act swiftly. She cannot remain here, not with the dwarves, the church, the foreign lords. They already blame her for their losses. If they learn she is indeed something they fear, they'll destroy her. Or the dragons will. We have to hide her, find her a teacher. Now."

The king consort gripped his sword hilt, as if that physical anchor might steady his swirling thoughts. "We must keep this secret. If word spreads, the palace will be stormed by zealots or angry delegates demanding her blood. The Empress has given us an ultimatum. We can't ignore it."

Kida clenched her fists, looking down at Aiyara's motionless form. "I'll never let them purge her. Even if I have to fight dragons myself. But what can we do? We don't know any devourers of Pride."

A hush settled as the monarchy understood the gravity of the task ahead. Their daughter was still comatose, her breathing faint, her mind presumably grappling with a newly awakened, lethal power. The palace outside was in shambles, riddled with outraged or terrified visitors. The dragons had promised terrible consequences if Aiyara remained untrained. Inside that quiet antechamber, they exchanged silent, stricken looks, knowing that a journey far beyond anything they had planned lay ahead.