LOGINThe first scream tore through the wards just before dawn.It wasn’t a horn.It wasn’t a warning spell.It was pain.I was on my feet instantly, the door in my chest flaring sharp and alert, no longer dormant but aware. Kyren was already moving, wings snapping open as the stronghold shuddered, not outward this time, but inward, like something collapsing rather than striking.“That came from the inner sanctum,” Riven said, blades in hand before the words finished leaving his mouth.Silas was gone.The realization hit like ice water.We ran.Stone corridors blurred. Torches guttered as we passed, their flames shrinking away from whatever pressure followed in Silas’s wake. I felt it then, wrongness folding in on itself, not Voidbound, not divine, but something parasitic and desperate.A failsafe.“They seeded him,” I gasped as understanding locked into place. “One of them, when they touched the wards earlier.”Kyren swore viciously. “A tether.”“To us,” Ashen snarled. “To her.”We reached
I woke to quiet that felt earned.Not the fragile quiet of denial or shock, but the deep, exhausted stillness that follows survival. Stone beneath me radiated residual warmth from Ashen’s fire. The air smelled faintly of ozone, burnt shadow, and iron, battle’s afterimage lingering like a bruise.For a moment, I didn’t move.I took inventory instead.Heartbeat, steady, slower than it should have been.Breath, unlabored, but shallow.The door...There.Not ajar. Not shut. Present in the background of my chest like a star beneath cloud cover. Waiting, patient in a way that unsettled me more than hunger ever could.Kyren was closest. Curled around my left side on the cold stone as though comfort outranked dignity. One wing stretched protectively over my legs, the other slack with fatigue. His breathing was deeper than mine, a rare thing. He had spent himself without restraint.Silas knelt a few feet away, finishing a sigil circle that faded as he completed it. His light dimmed deliberatel
The world held its breath.Every sound, steel ringing, wards screaming, shouted orders, compressed into a single, vibrating note as the Voidbound advanced. They did not rush. They knew time favored them. Each step they took dragged shadows with it, light bending wrong, magic fraying at the edges like cloth pulled too tight.The lead figure’s gaze locked on me, and the pressure inside my chest intensified.The door did not creak.It recognized the moment.Pain flared, not sharp, but vast. Like something ancient unfolding limbs that had been cramped far too long. My knees threatened to buckle, but Kyren’s presence anchored me instantly, his magic locking into mine with the inevitability of gravity.I gasped.The air tasted of copper and frost.“Elara,” Silas said tightly, his voice threading calm through the chaos even as his power surged brighter, more intricate. His sigils rearranged themselves automatically, responding not to my conscious control but to the thing awakening beneath it
Elara’s POVThe stronghold did not sleep after that.Neither did I.Magic moved through the halls like a rising tide, subtle at first, wards humming a note too sharp, torches burning a fraction too bright, then unmistakable in its urgency. Servitors were dispatched. Messengers departed through hidden ways. Every able body was quietly rerouted into motion as preparation replaced denial.Three nights had become one.I stood in the infirmary archway watching Silas trace cooling sigils along a wounded scout’s arm. The injury hadn’t been caused by steel or spellfire, but by proximity, too close to the Voidbound’s wake, where reality thinned and scraped. The skin there looked normal now, but I could still feel the echo of wrongness clinging to it.“They’re learning how to touch without tearing,” Silas murmured, more to himself than to me.“That makes them smarter,” I said.“And bolder,” he agreed, finally glancing up. His expression softened. “You should rest.”I almost laughed.Kyren leane
Elara’s POVThe moon shouldn’t have been red yet.That was the first thing that felt wrong.I stood at the edge of the eastern balcony, stone cold beneath my bare feet, watching the night sky as if it might blink and correct itself. The Blood Moon was still three nights away, every chart, every prophecy, every stitched scrap of celestial record agreed on that point. And yet a faint rusting glow had begun to leach into the lunar edge, like a bruise forming under pale skin.Too early.Behind me, the stronghold breathed quietly, magic humming through its bones. The wards were stable, for now. But I felt the tension running beneath them, like a muscle held too tight for too long.“You’re going to wear a hole in the stone if you keep pacing,” Riven said mildly.I turned. He leaned against the column near the doorway, arms folded, shadows clinging to him like they had something to hide. His blades were strapped at his back even though we were supposed to be in a “period of rest.” Riven didn
Elara’s POVThe mountain did not fall after that.It listened.That was the strangest part, the dreadful part. The roar faded into a low, resonant hum that vibrated through the soles of my boots and up my spine, like the ruins themselves were breathing us in, tasting the magic we’d just unleashed.Light and shadow lingered in the air, faint and shimmering, weaving like threads that refused to fully dissolve.Silas felt it too.I could tell by the way his fingers curled against the stone, searching, not for power, but for understanding.“What did we just do?” Riven asked quietly.Kyren was already scanning the cavern, wings folding tight against his back, senses flaring. “Whatever it was, the structure stabilized around it. Those runes weren’t meant to shatter like that, they responded.”“To you,” Silas said hoarsely.I looked back down at him.He was sitting now, bracing himself on one arm, the other hand held up in front of his face like he didn’t quite trust it to be real. The skin







