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The afterlight
Last Updated:
2025-08-05 09:38:35
Latest chapter
Her Enemy, His Curse A ripple in time
Lucian We rode in silence for miles. The Tower faded behind us like a bad memory—too vast to forget, too quiet to trust. I kept glancing back over my shoulder, half-expecting it to shudder, to scream, to collapse into itself. But it only stood. Watching. Waiting. The land changed slowly the farther south we rode. The grass grew thinner. The trees more sparse. Earth itself seemed reluctant to remember life here. As if something in the soil had once bitten down on death and hadn’t yet spat out the taste. We passed no other travelers. No birds. No sound beyond hoofbeats and wind. Arielle rode ahead. She hadn’t said much since we left. She watched the road like it was a puzzle, not a path—each stone a riddle. The sun struck her hair, turning it into bronze fire. But there was something brittle in the way she sat her saddle. Something coiled. I didn’t ask. Not yet. She’d speak when she was ready. Theron lagged behind. He muttered under his breath occasionally, half-curses and fr
Her Enemy, His Curse The frayed
LucianWe descended the Tower in silence.Its walls no longer pulsed. The runes dimmed as we passed, not dead—resting. The stones felt warmer underfoot, as if the Tower had remembered peace. Or maybe just exhaustion. Even the wind outside its high bones had quieted, like the world itself was listening.Theron was the first to speak.“So…” he muttered, kicking a fragment of Prophet-mask out of the way. “Who’s going to explain this to the rest of the Order?”“You,” I said immediately.Arielle coughed—almost a laugh.Theron groaned. “Why is it always me?”“Because I’m terrifying,” Arielle said, dragging her fingers along the wall as we walked. “And Lucian broods too much.”“I do not—” I started.She arched a brow without looking back. “You pulled a sword on a god-echo. Then bled into the Weave itself. You brood like it’s a religion.”I had no response to that.The steps narrowed, and the air grew thicker the deeper we went. Old magic still clung to the stairwell—residual, not active. Lik
Her Enemy, His Curse The afterlight
LucianThe Tower didn’t speak again.Not in words. Not in prophecy. Just the low thrum of stone remembering silence. I kept waiting for it to rise—another scream, another test, another demand. But the veil held. The runes dimmed.And Arielle slept.We stayed like that for hours, or maybe minutes. Time meant nothing inside this place. There were no windows, no stars, no sun. Just the endless hush of a world that had come too close to ending.Again.I looked down at her. Her face was streaked with ash and something like starlight. Her fire had marked her—not scars, not burns. Etchings. Sigils that hadn’t been there before, faint as dust, glowing softly against her skin like whispers only the Weave could hear.And the bond between us pulsed.Not with pain. Not with strain. It settled, like a heartbeat aligning with another. I could still feel the echo of her power—like a shadow cast behind my thoughts—but it didn’t pull anymore. It simply was.Woven.I didn’t know what that meant yet. On
Her Enemy, His Curse The burning star
LucianShe burned like a star.Not in the way fire consumes, but in the way truth reveals—relentless, radiant, unforgiving. The kind of light that didn’t just blind. It judged.The kind of light that chose.I couldn’t look away.Even as the creature recoiled, even as the Prophet’s mask cracked fully and fell in dust to the stone, even as the Tower screamed again—I only saw her.Arielle.Crowned in fire, spine straight, mouth set in a defiant line that would’ve made gods flinch. She wasn’t calling the flame. She was it.And still—I felt it tearing at me.Our bond had never been this volatile. We were forged in choice, tempered in war—but this… this was something older. I felt her magic pulling on mine, not like a tether, but like a weight. The stronger she burned, the more I frayed.The bond screamed. And part of me wanted to let go.But I didn’t.Not because I was strong. Not because I was brave. But because if I let go, she would face that thing alone.And that thing—It wasn’t afra
Her Enemy, His Curse The shiver in the veil
ArielleThe scream fractured the sky.Not in sound.In meaning.It wasn’t a cry of anguish or rage. It was the kind of scream that made silence heavier. Like the world had been holding its breath for too long—and now it had remembered why.I turned toward it instinctively, even as every instinct told me not to. Behind me, Theron unsheathed his blade with a hiss of steel. Lucian, slower, didn’t draw anything at all. He only reached for me.“Arielle?” he asked. Not as a question. As a tether.My name echoed again—closer now. Not spoken aloud. Not in any language with a shape. Pulled. Carried on a thread of unraveling magic, as if someone had plucked it from the Weave itself and was tugging.“You heard that,” I said. It wasn’t a question.Theron’s jaw clenched. “I didn’t hear it,” he muttered. “I felt it. Like my soul blinked.”Lucian didn’t speak.The space around us had gone thin. The kind of thin that wasn’t about air or distance, but about meaning—like a book whose spine had been ben
Her Enemy, His Curse The crowned and the condemned
ArielleThe sky hadn’t forgiven us yet.Even hours later, it remained barren—no stars, no moons, no whisper of wind. Just that bruised, silken black, like the world had wrapped itself in mourning. I understood the feeling.The Tower's breath was shallow beneath my feet. The oldest halls, once humming with memory and light, now throbbed with warning. It didn’t speak in words. It didn’t need to.The veil had been pierced.And now the Tower remembered why it feared the dark.“Where first?” Theron asked behind me, tightening the straps of his armor. Blood still crusted his brow, but his voice was crisp. Practical. Soldier through and through.“The Ash Guard,” I said. “If they don’t stand with us, the lower rings will fall before the veil finishes tearing.”He glanced at Lucian. “You think your old brothers will obey?”Lucian didn’t flinch.“They weren’t my brothers. And they won’t obey.”I turned, startled.“They’ll choose,” he finished, stepping past me. “And I’ll be there to see which w
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