Chapter 21: Fractures of the Bloodline

Ivy didn’t sleep that night.

Not after Killian’s confession.

He wasn’t Aiden’s twin.

Not by blood.

And the child she carried—bound to prophecy, fire, and ruin—had been claimed by a man who forged his place through deceit.

The lie was buried deep, older than the war, older than her. And it explained everything.

The unease Aiden always felt.

The restlessness in Killian’s eyes.

The fracture between fate and free will.

Now, it was all unravelling—and Ivy was standing in the centre of the storm.

She stood by the high window of the Archives, watching the stars disappear behind morning clouds. Her hand cradled her belly instinctively.

The child inside her was still quiet. Too quiet.

What are you waiting for?

A knock came.

She turned sharply.

It was Mira.

“We have a problem,” she said, her voice tight.

“What kind?”

“The High Tribunal wants to see you. Now.”

---

Council Hall – Dominion’s Core

The circular chamber buzzed with tension as Ivy entered, flanked by Mira and Lilith. Aiden was already inside, speaking with the five members of the High Tribunal—keepers of the law, watchers of bloodlines, enforcers of ancient code.

One of them, Magistrate Ren, raised a hand to silence the room.

“Lady Ivy,” he said coolly, “you carry the prophesied heir. You’ve defied pacts, broken Eidolon strongholds, and now we learn the twin bond—a sacred thread of the prophecy—was… forged.”

Ivy nodded slowly. “Yes. Killian confessed it.”

Another magistrate, an older woman named Veda, leaned forward. “And yet… you still carry his child.”

Ivy’s voice was steady. “That child chose me. And I chose them. The blood may be twisted, but the flame is real.”

“And if the flame was lit by deception?” Ren countered. “What then?”

“She didn't ask for this,” Aiden cut in sharply. “Neither did the child.”

“But the child is still a threat,” Veda whispered. “A weapon… shaped by a lie. Can it still be trusted?”

The question hung heavy in the air.

Mira’s hand drifted to her dagger.

Lilith narrowed her eyes.

“Are you suggesting we remove the child?” Ivy asked coldly.

Veda hesitated. “We are considering all options.”

Ivy’s flames surged instinctively. “You’ll have to kill me first.”

Ren remained calm. “We don’t seek war, Lady Ivy. We seek truth. And protection.”

Lilith stepped forward. “There’s another way.”

Everyone turned.

“Dorian,” she said. “He was possessed. He served the Eidolon and survived. He knows the foundation of their pacts.”

“You want us to trust him?” Ren asked.

“No,” Ivy said. “But I’ll question him. Alone.”

---

Prison Wing – Below the Archives

Dorian looked like a shadow of his former self—flesh stitched with darkness, veins still blackened by the remnants of his possession. But his eyes… they were clearer now. Human.

“You know who I am,” Ivy said quietly.

“Yes. And who you’re meant to become.”

“You served Isla.”

“No,” he rasped. “I served the Flame. Until I was broken and repurposed.”

Ivy sat across from him. “Tell me about the doors. The prophecy. The real one.”

Dorian exhaled shakily. “There were always two. The Savior. The Scourge. Two paths. But what the Dominion never knew was this: the child chooses after birth. Not before. And that choice depends on the one who raises them.”

Ivy’s blood ran cold.

“If Isla had taken the child…”

“They would’ve become destruction,” he confirmed. “If you raise them…”

“Then maybe there's hope.”

Dorian nodded. “But know this—Killian made a deal not just to claim the child, but to bind their fate. Even if you raise them now… that mark still lingers.”

---

Later That Day – The Tower of Winds

Killian stood alone on the outer terrace, gazing at the horizon. Ivy approached slowly.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” she asked.

“Because I knew you’d never forgive me.”

She studied him. “You tried to steal fate. Did you ever… love me? Or was it all part of the plan?”

His eyes softened. “I loved you. That’s the only truth I’ve ever been sure of.”

“And now?”

“Now… I don’t know who I am anymore.”

Ivy’s voice dropped. “You’re not the father, Killian. Not anymore.”

He flinched. “Then who is?”

A shadow fell across the terrace.

Aiden.

“I am,” he said, stepping into view. “I always was.”

“What do you mean?” Ivy asked.

Aiden held up a parchment—ancient, sealed, and glowing with Dominion sigils.

“This was hidden beneath the royal archives. A record of the original pact. It names me as the twin chosen by the flame.”

Killian’s mouth opened. “That’s impossible.”

“No. It’s justice,” Aiden said. “You tried to cheat fate. But now… the truth is coming for you.”

Suddenly, a tremor shook the tower.

Ivy staggered.

Then screamed.

Not in pain—but in shock.

Her belly glowed.

And the child’s voice echoed through her mind:

“The Scourge is near. He wears your face.”

Ivy turned in horror toward Killian.

He had vanished.

---

Meanwhile – In the Catacombs Beneath the Dominion

Killian knelt in front of a dark altar, whispering a name he had sworn never to speak again.

“Ezerel.”

The shadows stirred.

A figure emerged, tall and faceless, its voice like dripping tar.

“You return?”

“I want my power back,” Killian said, breathless. “I want to finish what I started.”

“You were warned.”

“I don’t care. Give me the bond again. This time, I’ll burn them all.”

The creature’s laughter echoed through the stone.

“So be it.”

A flame—cold and black—entered Killian’s chest.

His eyes flared red.

And his last trace of humanity vanished.