LOGINKit stepped closer. His smile was the same as ever, soft, warm, but his eyes cast a foreign silver glint, like coins illuminated by pale moonlight.
“Siron? Are you alright? You look... broken,” Kit said. His voice sounded doubled, a deep, vibrating undertone hidden beneath his usual calm demeanor.Siron took a step back, his back hitting the cold stone of a shattered headstone. The scent of damp earth and ozone still hung in the air among the temple ruins. Elara had already vanished, leaving behind a warning that thrummed in his head: The Whisperer. He infiltrates through trust.“I’m... I’m fine, Kit. Just... a lot has happened,” Siron replied, trying to steady his voice. The weaves in his veins, the golden threads of his blood, pulsed weakly. The blue threads of Morat and the pink of Lyra were barely visible, thin as smoke.“I know,” Kit said, now only a breath away. He raised his hand as if to touch Siron’s shoulder. “I saw everything. It was horrible. But it’s oveThe smell of burning dragged Siron back to memories he never wanted to revisit, the black smoke of smoldering silver flowers, the screams of people trapped in dreams, the metallic scent of blood and fear. But this time, the scent was different: more chemical, sharp, like burning electrical wires mixed with ozone.“Luna’s lab,” Elara muttered, standing beside him, her face pale under the moonlight. The small silver flower in their soil was now withered, its stem blackened as if scorched from the inside. “He’s siphoning its energy.”The bond between them throbbed with alarm. Siron could feel Elara’s heart racing in perfect sync with his own. “We have to go there.”“Wait!” Gideon hurried toward them, followed by Stefan, who was already equipped with a flashlight and an emergency bag. “The two of you are injured and exhausted. Let the Order handle this.”“The Order doesn’t know how to deal with a ley line siphon,” Siron countered, already moving toward the path leading to the campus. “And
The silence enveloping the sealing chamber felt different now, no longer heavy with centuries of sorrow and betrayal, but filled with a fragile relief, like the air after a storm. Siron stared at his small hands, where the scars from the ritual blade and the mingling of his blood with Elara’s had already begun to dry, forming a pattern like the veins of a leaf in a faint golden hue.“Gideon! Is everyone all right?” Stefan froze at the entrance, his eyes widening as he took in the chaos of the room, the fallen stones, the flickering remnants of the ritual light, and the group standing around the platform with the two skeletons.“We... we survived,” Gideon answered, his voice raspy. He leaned heavily on his staff, his face looking ten years older, yet there was a peace in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. “The truth has finally come to light, Stefan. And the seal has been transformed.”Stefan stepped cautiously, avoiding the debris. His gaze settled on the symbol of the half-open
Kaelan’s blade slashed through the air, aimed straight for Elara’s throat. Time slowed. Siron saw the glint of metal, the hatred burning in Kaelan’s eyes, and the shock frozen on Elara’s face. His body moved before his mind could even process the command, a blind leap, shoving Elara aside.Heat. Sharpness. Then, the agony.The blade grazed Siron’s shoulder, tearing through his jacket and skin. His blood, the blood of Cathal, spattered onto the stone floor, mingling with Elara’s.The effect was instant and devastating.Light exploded from the platform, flooding the room with a brilliant white-gold radiance. The images on the walls didn't just move; they came to life. Sounds, scents, and emotions overwhelmed Siron’s senses.He saw it all:Two men stood in this very room, three hundred years ago. They were identical, twin brothers. Cathal with his dark brown eyes (his eyes, Siron’s eyes). Cian with eyes of green (Morat’s eyes). They were holding hands, facing a stone gate on the platform
Time seemed to freeze. Siron stared at Niamh, or the entity claiming to be Niamh, who now stood with a triumphant smirk, her green eyes fading into a cold, dark silver. He then turned to his mother, who leaned against the stone, her face pale and her breath coming in ragged gasps as blood trickled from a wound on her temple."Mom?" Siron murmured, in total disbelief."Don't trust her, Siron!" his mother cried out, her voice raw. "Cian’s bloodline went extinct a hundred years ago! His last descendant, a girl named Niamh, died of illness when she was just a baby! I traced the family records in the village, in the secret room beneath our house!""Niamh" laughed. Her voice shifted, no longer soft and bell-like, but deep and resonant, like the voice from the temple before. "Oh, how pathetic. You almost made me feel guilty."Elara scrambled back a few steps, her face ashen. "But... I can feel the blood bond! It felt real!""Because I took a little blood from the real Niamh’s corpse," the fi
The woman, Niamh, descended the stairs of light with a graceful step, yet every footprint left a golden shimmering trace upon the earth. Her eyes, green as spring emeralds, were an exact match for Morat’s. But there was something older within them, a sorrow that had settled like dust upon a relic.“Niamh,” Siron repeated, trying to process it all. “You said a distant cousin?”“Your bloodline and mine diverged three hundred years ago,” Niamh explained, her voice soft but clear, like the chime of a small bell. “When the first Aethelford betrayed the covenant, his twin brother, my ancestor, refused to take part. As punishment, he was imprisoned in the 'between,' and his descendants were hidden away, dismissed as an insignificant side branch.” She looked at Elara. “But our blood was never truly thinned. Only... disguised.”Elara stepped forward, her face a mixture of disbelief and recognition. “I always felt like something was wrong. Those rituals... they felt like remembering, not learni
The giant shadow roared, its hundreds of silver eyes blinking out of sync, creating a dizzying pattern of light. Each eye radiated the same desperate longing: despair, fury, and a hunger for freedom."You cannot stop destiny!" its voice echoed, coming not from a single source but from every direction at once.Siron was thrown backward, his spine slamming against a tree trunk. The breath caught in his throat. The vial of tears around his neck clattered against his chest, but it didn’t break. Morat’s fractured message still looped through his mind: “The tears... on the ground... mix with...”Mix with what? Blood? Water? Saliva?Elara screamed something, but her voice was swallowed by the shadow’s roar. Gideon surged forward with his staff, chanting an ancient protection spell. But the light from the staff was dim, flickering like a candle in the heart of a storm.Kit, from behind a tree, threw something, an ordinary stone. Yet strangely, the stone passed straight through one of the shad







