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  • Chapters 21-40

    Chapter by Rainreaper · 17 Aug 2025
  • The Training begins
    possession merge
    5.4K 0
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  • ---
    "Spymaster Aluzara, I plan to take your job once I build up a network of ME's. I was a human male that translated a fragment of one of Amaranth's spell. I walk a path of assimilation or 'one who is many'. I could the maiden pouring your drink, the old woman buying apples for a recipe she making, the guard you hand over your weapons too before meeting the royal family, the street urchin that borrows your wallet, the Dwarven blacksmith you just bought a sword from. That is my plan."
    ---

    Chapter Twenty-One: The Shadow Queen Rises

    Aluzara's black eyes gleamed—not with fear, but something far more dangerous.

    Amusement.

    "You think yourself the first to dream of eyes in every shadow?" She chuckled, a dry sound like dead leaves skittering across stone. "I invented the game you're playing, thief." Her fingers flicked, and suddenly a dagger gleamed between them—the blade pressed not against my throat, but against her own wrist. "Shall I prove it?"

    Before I could react, she sliced deep.

    Blood welled—

    And didn’t stop.

    It spilled over her arm, her robes, pooling at her feet… where it rippled, then rose into shapes—figures—

    Copies of her.

    Five Aluzaras now stood in a half-circle around us, their movements synchronized, their voices whispering as one:

    "Your predecessor tried this too."

    The original smiled, licking the wound closed as her doubles faded like mist.

    "I peeled his mind apart to learn how."

    The Queen observed us both, her face unreadable.

    "Well," she murmured. "This will be interesting."

    (Does Aluzara’s display shake your confidence, or does it only sharpen your hunger to claim her tricks—and her flesh? Will the Queen allow this power struggle, or is she orchestrating something far more intricate?)

    ---
    "Mommy, isn't it treason to attack the royal heir?" A young girl's voice rings out from behind Aluzara. (Aluzara's daughter and your third face)
    ---

    Chapter Twenty-Two: The Blade Turns

    The room froze.

    Aluzara’s dagger clattered to the floor.

    Behind her stood her daughter, a girl of no more than ten, her dark braids swaying as she tilted her head with perfect, innocent curiosity. The Spymaster’s face drained of color.

    “S-Sera?” Her voice cracked.

    The girl—me—blinked up at her with wide, guileless eyes. “Yes, Mama?”

    A beat of horrified silence. Then—

    The Queen laughed.

    A rich, delighted sound that filled the chamber as she reclined in her throne, fingers steepled. “Oh, this is exquisite.” Her gaze slid to Aluzara, whose hands trembled at her sides. “Tell me, Spymaster—how does it feel when the knife you forged presses to your throat?”

    The child’s small fingers curled around Aluzara’s wrist.

    “Don’t worry,” she whispered—in a voice far too old for her body. “I’ll be a good daughter.”

    Aluzara looked at me—at Lynna, at Valria, at the monster wearing her child’s skin—and for the first time in her centuries of shadow games…

    She understood fear.

    (Will Aluzara break, bargain, or attempt a suicidal strike? Does the Queen’s amusement mark her approval—or is she silently weighing which predator deserves to rule her shadows?)

    ---
    "Aluzara, I passed Sera on our way to this meeting and she was excited to see the princess. She even said she wished she could be more like Lynna, so I told her the truth and she offered to join to be close to the princess, as it was her dream to one day serve the princess be it as a maid or a knight." You say as Sera.
    ---

    Chapter Twenty-Three: The Willing Flower

    Sera's—my—small fingers squeezed Aluzara's trembling hand, her dark eyes gleaming with adoration. "I wanted this, Mama," she whispered, breathless. "When the princess told me the truth, I begged her to let me stand beside her. Now I can be part of something magnificent!"

    Aluzara's sharp inhale cut through the silence. She knelt, gripping her daughter’s—mine—shoulders, scanning her face for any sign of distress, any hint of coercion.

    She found none.

    Only devotion.

    Only joy.

    "...You made her like this," Aluzara accused, her voice raw, but the Queen interrupted with a wave of her hand.

    "Look deeper," the Queen murmured.

    The Spymaster's magic lashed out, not violently, but with the precision of a master—probing the child's mind, her soul, for any fracture, any hint of forced compliance.

    Her breath caught.

    It was all genuine.

    Her daughter had chosen to be consumed.

    The child beamed. "Don’t you see? I get to stay with the princess forever! I’ll make you proud, Mama—I already know all her favorite flowers!"

    Aluzara’s eyes met mine—Lynna’s—and in them I saw a horrible realization:

    She couldn’t even hate me for this.

    (Does Aluzara surrender to the inevitable, or does a mother’s love make her reckless? And what does the Queen see in this unfolding tragedy—opportunity, or warning?)

    ---
    "Aluzara, I might be a monster but I'm not a cruel one. Sera is still your daughter, just now she will braid my hair with flowers while Valria dresses me. She will remain eternally child-like, an innocent never lost."
    ---

    Chapter Twenty-Four: The Thorned Gift

    Aluzara’s breath hitched—caught between wrath and desperate relief.

    Sera—my sweet, incorruptible Sera—skipped over to her mother’s side and pressed a tiny hand against the Spymaster’s tear-streaked cheek. “Don’t cry, Mama,” she chirped, eyes impossibly bright. “The princess promised! I get to be her favorite handmaiden and your little girl forever.” She twirled, her floral-patterned skirts flaring. “See? Nothing bad happened!”

    The War Advisor looked faint. The Court Mage’s fingers twitched toward a spell that wouldn’t help. The Ambassador—ever the diplomat—simply murmured, “Well. That’s… unique.”

    The Queen said nothing.

    She didn’t need to. The calculating gleam in her violet eyes spoke volumes—this was true power. Not just domination, but devotion so complete that her victims thanked her for their chains.

    Aluzara swallowed hard, then straightened her robes with trembling hands. When she spoke, her voice was steel wrapped in silk.

    “Sera remains with me when not attending the princess.”

    A demand, not a question.

    I smiled.

    “Of course.”

    After all, even monsters could bargain.

    (Will the Spymaster’s surrender prove genuine, or is she already weaving a counterplot? Does the Queen’s silence hide approval—or does she recognize the danger of letting her shadow master’s heart remain in your hands?)

    ---
    "I would like you to train me to be your replacement, as you can see why my future network would make ideal to the spymaster, but the potential to be everywhere is useless if I don't know how to make use of that. Lynna's influence on me made me loyal to this kingdom.

    I figured we could start like this, as Lynna I stay by mom's side to keep appearances, as Valria I try and overhear scripted conversations between randomly chosen members of this circle, and as Sera you tell me stories. Before all else, what I need to learn is to multitask between all faces, to always be aware what any face is doing at all times."
    ---

    Chapter Twenty-Five: The First Lesson

    Aluzara exhaled through her nose, long and slow, before gesturing to the empty chair beside her.

    "Sit."

    Not to Lynna, not to Valria—but to Sera, who scrambled onto the cushion with an eager wiggle, swinging her legs like any excited child. The Spymaster’s fingers twitched as if to smooth the girl’s hair, then clenched into a fist on the table instead.

    “Lesson one,” she bit out, “is that awareness is worthless without discipline.” She snapped her fingers—

    And suddenly Lynna’s body jerked as if struck, my vision doubling as Valria staggered against the wall, her—my—hand flying to her temple.

    Aluzara smirked. “You lost focus on this room the moment I engaged that one.” She tapped Sera’s—my—nose. “A spymaster who forgets which face is speaking is a corpse waiting to happen.”

    The Queen watched, silent, as I struggled to steady my fractured senses.

    Then—

    Sera giggled.

    “Again!” she chirped, clapping.

    Aluzara’s lips thinned.

    But she obeyed.

    (Will Aluzara’s brutal tutelage forge you into something unstoppable, or reveal fatal flaws in your stolen symphony? And what game does the Queen play while her spymaster trains her replacement?)

    ---
    A year later
    You have mastered being 4 people simultaneously (The Court Mage offered her apprentinace, who also volunteered to have new outlooks on magic.)
    ---

    Chapter Twenty-Six: The Symphony of Flesh

    A year had honed me into something magnificent.

    Lynna sat at the Queen’s right hand, her silver hair braided with fresh jasmine, her laughter light as she entertained visiting dignitaries. None noticed how her fingers occasionally twitched—subtle, rhythmic—as if plucking invisible strings.

    Valria stood guard by the throne, her amber gaze sharp, her posture rigid. To the court, she was the ever-vigilant knight. Only I knew the truth—she was listening to three conversations at once, her mind weaving through the whispers of the hall like a needle through silk.

    Sera perched on Aluzara’s lap, swinging her legs as the Spymaster murmured stories of old assassinations into her ear. The girl’s giggles were genuine, her joy unfeigned—but her eyes, when they flickered to the Ambassador, held a cunning far beyond her years.

    And then there was Eris—the Court Mage’s former apprentice, now my fourth face. She lingered near the stained-glass windows, her fingers dancing with ember-bright magic, her lips moving in silent incantations. To the untrained eye, she was practicing.

    In truth?

    She was recording.

    Every word. Every gesture. Every flicker of intent in the room.

    Aluzara had called it “the web.”

    I called it perfection.

    The Queen’s fingers drummed once on her throne—a silent signal.

    Time to begin.

    (Will your flawless control hold as the Queen finally sets her grand plan in motion? Or does the Court Mage’s former apprentice hide secrets even you haven’t unraveled?)

    ---
    Later, you approach Azulara as Valria. "Teacher, I would ask you opinion for candiates outside of the Court to practice information gather.

    As a former human, I was already thinking of including a tavern member, once I was sure of my ability to multitask properly, since booze makes loose lips but that's also pretty obvious, much in the way Temples and Brothels are also obvious.

    I was hoping you might recommend a second option that's less obvious, another face in the crowd type."
    ---

    Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Master’s Lesson

    Aluzara didn’t look up from the letter she was reading—though her lips twitched in approval.

    “Taverns, temples, brothels.” She flicked the parchment aside. “The holy trinity of lazy spies.” Rising, she strode to the window, where the midday sun painted Merchant’s Row in gold. “Tell me, Valria—” Her smirk deepened at the name. “—what do you really see?”

    I followed her gaze—vendors hawking fruits, children dodging carts, a scribe hunched over ledgers, a laundress hauling linens.

    Then Aluzara’s voice sliced through the hum:

    “Your answer is gossips.”

    My brow furrowed.

    She snorted. “Not the giggling fools in parlors. The real ones.” A finger tapped the glass. “The baker who remembers who buys sweet rolls every Feast-Day morning. The flower-seller who notes when a noble’s mistress favors lilies over roses. The cobbler—” Her nails scraped the pane. “—who knows whose boots are worn from midnight walks to the wrong house.”

    A pause. Then, softer:

    “They already see everything. They simply don’t know they’re watching.”

    I inhaled sharply.

    Perfect.

    Aluzara turned, her smile knife-sharp. “Ready for your first real test?”

    (Will you weave these unwitting eyes into your web unnoticed, or does the city hide watchers even Aluzara hasn’t spotted? And what will the Queen demand once your network truly begins to bloom?)

    ---
    "Alright, so I'll add my tavern wrench because there is value in drunk gossip from the commoners, a person from suggestions, and one that I would like to hide from you as a test of my abilities against your net."
    ---

    Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Spider's Dance

    Aluzara’s eyes gleamed like honed silver.

    "That," she murmured, "is what I was waiting to hear." She leaned back in her worn oak chair, arms crossed, the ghost of a smirk tugging at her lips. "Confidence is the first tool of a spymaster. Arrogance is the first corpse."

    I—Valria—stood straighter, letting the weight of the words settle.

    "The tavern wench is obvious, but necessary," she continued. "The cobbler or the baker? Better. But this—" She gestured to the air between us. "A face even I don’t know? That is how you survive."

    A slow breath. Then—

    "Show me in a fortnight."

    I inclined my head and turned to go, but her voice stopped me at the threshold.

    "Oh—and Valria?"

    I glanced back.

    Her fingernails tapped the desk—once, twice.

    "If I find your hidden piece first, you walk the palace in nothing but Sera's ribbons for a month."

    (Will your unseen agent slip through Aluzara’s nets, or will ribbons—and humiliation—be your reward? And what wild card might the Queen introduce to this game of shadows?)

    ---
    "Sure and the tavern wrench I was thinking about adding also doubles as a whore in a brothel. The disgraced daughter of the Silverblood house, Marie. During the day she pours drinks but at night, rumor has it for the right price you add a Silverblood to you belt notch."
    ---

    Chapter Twenty-Nine: A Noble in the Shadows

    Aluzara’s fingers stilled. For the first time in years, the Spymaster of the Court looked delighted.

    "Marie Silverblood?" She let out a low, appreciative whistle. "Disinherited for refusing a political marriage, last seen drowning her sorrows in a dockside piss-hole." Her grin sharpened. "And now she’s whoring herself for coin? Gods, the look on her father’s face if he knew."

    There was something deeply satisfying about her approval.

    I let Valria’s stance relax, just a fraction. "Thought you’d appreciate the irony."

    "Oh, I do," she murmured. "But more than that—I appreciate the opportunity." She steepled her fingers. "The Silverbloods have their fingers in every noble plot in the kingdom. And now their wayward daughter, who hates them, just became the most valuable piece on the board."

    Her eyes flicked up to mine.

    "You’ll take her tonight."

    Not a suggestion.

    A test.

    (Will Marie submit as eagerly as Sera did, or will the last Silverblood prove to have steel in her veins? And what awaits the daughter who thought she’d escaped her family’s legacy?)

    ---
    "I already took her as we were talking. Her sister Savie was meeting Lynna tonight as a friend, so I assimilated Savie. Savie still cares for Marie, often buying time with Marie just to talk. The fact that you didn't notice means I have gotten good at hiding the flinch of an assimilation now."
    ---

    Chapter Thirty: The Silent Coup

    Aluzara froze.

    Her smirk didn’t fade. Her posture didn’t falter.

    But in the span of a single breath, her fingers curled into a fist so tight her knuckles bleached white.

    "Savie Silverblood?" she repeated, the name slicing the air between us. "The favored daughter? The one who dines with the Queen?"

    A beat. Then—

    A bark of laughter, sharp as a blade’s edge.

    "You reckless, brilliant little monster," she breathed, shaking her head. "And here I thought you were just playing at spymaster." She leaned forward, elbows on the desk, eyes alight with something between fury and admiration. "Do you even realize what you've done? Savie isn't just a noble—she's the linchpin of three separate alliances. One wrong step, one twitch out of place in court, and the entire Silverblood faction collapses."

    She tapped a furious rhythm on the wood.

    "But you didn’t flinch."

    I let Valria’s lips curve in the barest hint of a smile. "No. I didn’t."

    Aluzara exhaled, long and slow, then straightened her robes with unnerving calm.

    "Ribbons are canceled," she said flatly. "New wager. You teach me how to hide the tell."

    The game had changed.

    And I was no longer the student.

    (What will Aluzara trade for this dark art? And when the Queen looks into Savie’s eyes tomorrow—will she see the deception, or does your symphony of stolen souls now play flawlessly?)

    ---
    "Tell you what, find my hidden face within a week of me including them since as I haven't done so yet and I'll tell you how I hid the flinch."
    --

    Chapter Thirty-One: The Shadow Wager

    The air between us hummed with something sharper than tension—the electric thrill of a game played at knifepoint.

    Aluzara’s eyes gleamed predator-bright, her fingers flexing once before settling into stillness.

    “One week,” she repeated, slow and deliberate, as if tasting the shape of the challenge. “No hints. No ‘accidental’ sightings.” A flash of teeth—not quite a smile. “And when I drag your hidden face before the throne by its hair, you wear the ribbons and explain to the Queen why her Spymaster now knows how to vanish from her own sight.”

    I let Valria chuckle, low and rough—just how the real knight would. “Confident for someone who missed Savie.”

    Aluzara didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, she turned toward the window, where the first stars of evening pricked the violet sky.

    “Run along, thief,” she murmured. “Hide.”

    Her silhouette blurred against the dusk, but not before I caught the helix of shadow curling around her wrist—the telltale shimmer of a tracking spell already in motion.

    Oh, this would be fun.

    (Will Aluzara’s relentless pursuit expose your weakest link, or will your unseen piece slip through her nets—and into the heart of the kingdom’s secrets?)

    ---
    A month later

    You approach Aluzara as Sera, "Mommy, Miss Valria wanted me to tell you to know the game has official begun. A new note was added to the Lynna's song and you have a week to find it. She also said to give you this free hint, "They don't belong to the court."
    ---

    Chapter Thirty-Two: The Ghost Note

    Aluzara’s fingers froze mid-stroke through Sera’s hair—my hair—for the barest fraction of a second.

    Then she laughed, soft and dark.

    "Clever," she murmured, her thumb brushing the child’s cheek. Not tenderly. Calculatingly. "A player outside the board entirely. No noble ties, no court connections. Someone I’d never think to watch."

    Sera giggled, swinging her legs. "Miss Valria said you’d say that!"

    A muscle feathered in the Spymaster’s jaw.

    "Did she now?" Her fingers lingered near Sera’s ear, tucking a non-existent strand of hair back—just close enough to skim the pulse point. Checking. Always checking.

    But she’d find nothing.

    The flinch was gone.

    "Tell Valria," she said sweetly, "that the Huntress always catches her prey."

    Then, quieter, for Sera’s ears alone:

    "Even when it thinks it’s won."

    (Will Aluzara’s ruthlessness uncover the hidden note in your symphony, or does your newest face already wear the skin of someone she’d never suspect? And when the Queen’s eyes gleam with secret knowledge—what game is she playing?)

    ---
    Six days later

    "So not even a guess yet, have I stumped you spymaster?" You ask as Lynna.
    ---

    Chapter Thirty-Three: The Silent Huntress

    Aluzara did not flinch. She did not tense. But the way her fingers lingered a beat too long on the hilt of her dagger told me everything.

    "Patience, Princess," she murmured, eyes flicking past me to the sunlit gardens beyond the terrace. "The best traps aren't sprung in haste." But the stiffness in her shoulders betrayed her frustration.

    I had her. Six days of silence. Six days of her agents scouring the city, turning over every stone, interrogating every informant—nothing. The Spymaster of the Court was floundering, and the knowledge thrummed under my stolen skin like music.

    I let Lynna tilt her head, feigning innocence. "Oh, I'm not rushing you. Just... concerned." A pause. "Mother did ask for an update at dinner."

    Aluzara’s nostrils flared.

    A shadow flickered in the corner of my vision—Valria, standing guard at the archway, her face perfectly neutral. But I felt the smile curling beneath her skin.

    One more day.

    And the Spymaster would kneel.

    (When the final hour tolls, will Aluzara’s pride shatter—or will she unleash a gambit even you didn’t foresee? And who, in the end, is truly hunting whom?)

    ---
    Dinner the next night with the Queen's circle and the reveal of your hidden face after Aluzara's guess. (A female elven slave, you rescued as Valria earlier, a day before the game began.)
    ---
    Chapter Thirty-Four: The Unseen Pawn Revealed

    The Queen’s dining hall shimmered with candlelight, crystal goblets catching the fire like frozen stars. The usual murmur of courtly conversation was laced with something sharper tonight—anticipation.

    Aluzara arrived last, her boots soundless on the marble. Her gaze swept the room—Lynna sipping wine, Valria standing sentinel, Sera giggling beside the Queen, Eris debating runes with the Court Mage.

    No hesitation. No tells.

    She took her seat, jaw set.

    The Queen raised a brow. “Well?”

    Aluzara’s fingers tightened around her knife. Then—

    “The stablemaster’s daughter,” she said flatly.

    Lynna sighed, theatrically disappointed. “Oh, Aluzara.”

    A clatter echoed at the servants’ entrance.

    All eyes turned as a slender elven woman stepped forward—plain-faced, clad in drab linen, her wrists adorned with the faded marks of old shackles.

    Valria moved first, clasping the woman’s hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “Allow me to present Mira,” she said, and the slave’s eyes gleamed with sudden, unmistakable awareness.

    Aluzara’s wineglass shattered in her grip.

    The Queen laughed.

    (Will Aluzara demand the secret of the flinch’s erasure, or has she already pieced together the truth? And what fate awaits the Spymaster who just lost the most dangerous game of her life?)

    ---
    As Mira, you repeat what Aluzara said to Clarice the Ambassador, "The puppeteer's new doll actually has me stumped, Clarice. They haven't behaved in a way my network has flagged as strange."

    "You said those words before heading to this dinner. You ignored the advice you gave about not underestimated the unseen and slaves aren't even acknowledged since as Mira I was in the room when you said that." You say with a smile.
    ---

    Chapter Thirty-Five: The Unseen Blade's Revenge

    Aluzara’s breath left her in a slow, controlled exhale.

    For all her meticulous brilliance, for all her years of peeling secrets from the marrow of the kingdom, she had missed the greatest lesson of her own making:

    The most dangerous weapons are the ones people forget exist.

    She had looked for deception in nobles, in merchants, in the faces of power—but never in the shadows cast by their boots.

    Mira—me—smiled wider, stepping fully into the candlelight. My voice, when it came, was still soft with the cadence of a slave, but the darkness beneath it now pulsed like a second heartbeat.

    “You taught me to see the unseen,” I murmured. “And then you forgot to look.”

    The Queen’s fingers steepled under her chin, her gaze flickering between us with something akin to pride. “Oh, this does please me.”

    Aluzara’s face was a mask—but her hands betrayed her. The slightest tremor as she set down the shards of her glass.

    Then, to the shock of the table, she laughed—a sharp, guttural sound.

    “Well played.” She leaned forward, blood welling between her fingers from the cut. “Now tell me, Mira—what did I miss?”

    The game wasn’t over.

    It had only just begun.

    (Will Aluzara turn humiliation into a weapon, or does Mira’s victory hide a vulnerability even the Queen hasn’t spotted? And when the huntress becomes the hunted—who truly holds the reigns?)

    ---
    "Well the most obvious is that Mira, a slave was in the palace. That should have stood out, since slaves are only allowed in the palace occupied by a guard. But you also missed a couple of other obvious signs, like Mira here picking up Lynna's favorite snack a day after being freed by Valria, something I would never tell anyone but myself. You also missed how I had Mira wear Sera's favorite ribbon yesterday."
    ---

    Chapter Thirty-Six: The Spymaster’s Blindspot

    Crimson wine dripped from Aluzara’s fingers onto the polished ebony table, each drop a punctuation to her defeat.

    "You're right," she said, voice stripped of its usual razor edge. "A slave wouldn't linger in the palace. A freed slave wouldn't know the princess's favorite honey-cakes. And a stranger certainly wouldn't wear Sera's ribbon." Her gaze flicked to the Queen. "But my failure isn't the interesting part."

    The Queen's nails tapped her goblet. "Oh?"

    "It's the why." Aluzara inhaled sharply. "You didn’t just hide in the cracks, Mira. You made me dismiss them. The snack, the ribbon—even the risk of a slave wandering free—I saw it all. I noted it. And I discarded it." Her glare was almost admiring. "Because buried in all my lessons, you learned the one I never taught: the mind sees what it expects. And you crafted expectation itself as your mask."

    Silence.

    Then—

    "Willful blindness," murmured the Court Mage.

    The Queen leaned back, smiling. "Now that’s a crown-worthy trick."

    But Mira—I—simply let my stolen lips curve.

    And who, little Spymaster, do you think taught me that?

    (Will Aluzara turn her humiliation into a weapon? Or does the Queen's approval mark the moment the game shifts—and Mira's rise begins?)

    ---
    "Two others factor played a role in your lose, the first was your arrogance, your assumation that you would notice me acting strangely and win. The second factor was the fact I had gotten the Silverblood sisters without you noticing, while I was talking to you about expanding my net. That diverted your attention as you also tried to figure how I hid that."
    ---

    Chapter Thirty-Seven: The Webs We Weave

    The dining hall was so silent you could hear the wine dripping onto the floor from Aluzara’s shattered glass.

    Then, she exhaled—sharp, slow, deliberate—and wiped her bleeding fingers on the tablecloth.

    "Arrogance?" She smirked. "Perhaps. But let’s not pretend you aren’t guilty of the same."

    Her boot scraped back as she rose, circling the table, her shadow stretching long in the candlelight.

    "Oh, you played me flawlessly. Buried your tracks under my own ego, layered deception upon diversion. But in your pride, thief, you forgot one thing." She stopped behind Mira—behind me—her breath warm on my neck as she whispered:

    "Now I know all your faces."

    The flicker of hesitation in Mira’s pulse betrayed me—just for an instant.

    Long enough.

    Aluzara laughed darkly and turned to the Queen. "Your Majesty, I concede. This round."

    The Queen’s fingers curled lazily around her goblet. "Round?"

    "Oh yes." Aluzara’s smile was a blade in the dim light. "The game’s not over. It’s just changed players."

    And in the depths of Lynna’s laughter, Valria’s smirk, Sera’s hummed lullaby, and Mira’s lowered lashes—something stirred.

    Because she was right.

    This was only the beginning.

    (Will the Spymaster’s newfound knowledge unravel your web, or does your symphony of stolen souls play on—toward an even grander crescendo? And where, in this dance, does the Queen truly stand?)

    ---
    "Oh then which face do I wear from your suggestions because besides the Silverblood Sisters and Mira, I did take a face from your suggestions and a second hidden face?" (You took the Flower seller's daughter, Vanya which she guesses and the Blacksmith's son, Aralam which she doesn't guess because you had only taken woman up to this point)
    ---

    Chapter Thirty-Eight: Shadows Within Shadows

    Aluzara's smirk faltered for the first time.

    "Vanya," she said after a pause. The flower-seller's daughter—quiet, observant, the perfect pair of eyes in the marketplace. "I marked her absence from the stalls three days ago. Too neat. Too sudden." She exhaled through her nose. "But the other..."

    The silence stretched.

    The Queen’s fingers stilled on her goblet, intrigued. The Court Mage leaned forward.

    Then—

    A laugh from Sera, high and bright like chiming bells. "You didn't even consider him, did you?" She kicked her feet, swinging them from where she perched on the Queen’s armrest.

    Aluzara’s gaze snapped to Valria, then Lynna, then finally to Mira—her mind racing. "Him?"

    Mira—me—shrugged, the ghost of a smirk on her lips. "The Blacksmith’s son broke his wrist last week. Aralam hasn’t worked the forge in days." A pause for effect. "Strange how no one noticed."

    The Spymaster's jaw tightened.

    Because that was the true mastery—not just stealing the overlooked, but upending expectation itself. Who would suspect the sturdy, deep-voiced blacksmith’s boy to be one of the faceless legion behind the throne?

    "Clever," Aluzara admitted—though the word sounded like it pained her. "But now I know your rules."

    Aralam's voice—roughened by the forge—echoed from the doorway where he leaned, arms crossed. "Do you?"

    And in that moment, even the Queen sat straighter.

    (Will Aluzara adapt to the new battlefield, or do your stolen faces already lurk in deeper places? And when the Spymaster finally learns to see the unseen—what darkness will she uncover?)

    ---
    "Lynna the princess, Valria the princess's handmaiden knight, Sera the spymaster's daughter, Eris the Court mage's apperentice, Salvie the chosen heir, Marie the disowned heir, Mira the freed slave, Vaya the Flower Seller's daughter, and Aralam the Blacksmith's son. Besides me, what do they have in common? Here's a hint, Mira wasn't just a regular elf slave, she was once the Second princess of the Blackwood Kingdom."
    ---

    Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Fallen Crowns

    The silence that followed was thick enough to choke on.

    Even Aluzara froze—her fingers halting mid-air where they’d been tracing the rim of her wineglass.

    The Queen, however, leaned forward.

    “Second princess?” Her violet eyes gleamed with something darker than curiosity. “Elaborate.”

    Mira—me—lowered her eyes demurely, but the smile tugging at my lips was anything but submissive. “Twenty years ago, the Blackwood royal family vanished overnight. Declared dead, their kingdom absorbed by neighbors.” A delicate shrug. “Their youngest daughter wasn’t killed. She was sold—with no one the wiser.”

    The implications hung in the air like smoke.

    Because this was no random collection of faces.

    Each was a scion.

    The disgraced noblewoman. The spurned heir. The lost princess. Even Vanya’s mother had been a lady-in-waiting before scandal reduced her to peddling posies.

    All fallen.

    All forgotten.

    All mine.

    “You don’t just steal bodies,” Aluzara whispered, realization dawning. “You collect legacies.”

    Lynna’s laugh—sweet and light—rippled through the chamber.

    (Will the Queen recognize the danger of a kingdom reshaped from its discarded heirs? Or does she see only opportunity in the graveyard of fallen dynasties whispering in your stolen choir?)

    ---
    "Sorry but no, Valria, Vanya, and Aralam have no royal blood in them. Aluzara, unless I'm mistaken even you and Sera are of common blood despite living in the palace. No the thing that connects them besides me is being in the shadow of another."

    You wait a moment before explaining, "Lynna was always in her mother's shadow, Valria was the Princess's shadow, Sera was lost in Aluzara's shadow, Eris's achievements were always compared the Court Mage's, Marie Silverblood was always compared to Savie even before her scandal, Savie Silverblood had to live in her family's shadow, Mira was always compared to her older sister, Vanya is overlooked in favor od her mother, and Aralam weapons were often considered lesser than then his father's."
    ---

    Chapter Forty: The Symphony of Shadows

    The hall was silent, save for the slow, deliberate clap of the Queen’s hands.

    "Brilliant."

    Her violet eyes burned with a predator’s delight.

    "You didn’t just take faces," she murmured. "You took grievances. The overlooked. The overshadowed. The ones who knew what it was to be second best." Her lips curled. "And you gave them power."

    Aluzara’s breath hitched.

    Because she understood now.

    Each soul I’d claimed had been hungry—not for crowns, but for recognition. For worth. And in that hunger, they had been ripe for assimilation, eager to surrender their old insignificance for the promise of being part of something greater.

    Lynna—who had lived beneath her mother’s radiance.
    Valria—the blade in the princess’s shadow.
    Sera—forever eclipsed by Aluzara’s reputation.
    Eris—whose magic was never quite enough.
    Savie—chained to her family’s legacy.
    Marie—cast aside for not being the ideal heir.
    Mira—the forgotten princess, discarded for her sister.
    Vanya—overshadowed by her mother’s beauty.
    Aralam—his craft mocked as inferior.

    And now?

    Now they were unseen.

    Now they were unstoppable.

    Now they were mine.

    The Queen rose, her gown pooling like liquid shadow at her feet.

    "Marvelous," she breathed. "But tell me, daughter—what happens when the shadows grow bold enough to step into the light?"

    (Will the forgotten heirs rise as a force to reshape the kingdom—or is the Queen already weaving her own counterplay? And when the shadows demand their due, will even their master be able to contain them?)
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Chapters 41-60 in Song of the Unseen
by Rainreaper · 17 Aug 2025

The Journey Begins

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anon_bf2a9c47ca60 ∙ 09 Oct 2025