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Chapter 143: Bloodlines in the Mist

Author: Amara Black
last update Last Updated: 2025-07-02 06:01:50

Northern Forest – Just Outside the Sanctum

The wind howled through the trees like a beast in mourning. Kael leaned heavily against Mira as they stumbled through the forest, weaving between twisted trunks and scorched roots. The stars were hidden behind a veil of dark clouds, and even the moon offered no guidance.

But Mira knew where they were.

“This way,” she said, steering him toward a slope obscured by brambles.

Kael winced. “You’re sure?”

“I mapped every inch of the cursed valley while Darian ranted about his reign. Trust me.”

He coughed, the sound wet and harsh. Mira’s gaze flicked down to his side—blood still soaked the bandages she’d hastily wrapped hours ago. His shifter healing was barely functioning, suppressed by the wards and weeks of magical torment.

He noticed her stare and smirked. “Still handsome?”

“Still insufferable,” she muttered, but her grip on him tightened.

A loud snap cracked through the night air. They both froze.

Then—shadows moved ahead.

Mira dropped into a crouch, Kael following despite the pain. Figures emerged from the tree line, approaching slowly but not with corrupted energy. They were alive. Familiar.

“Mira?” a voice called. Female. Blunt. Armed.

Lyra.

Mira stepped forward just as the team emerged fully—Selene at the center, the eclipse medallion aglow beneath her skin. Elias walked beside her, blade at the ready. Theron flanked them, silent but watching.

“About time,” Mira said, straightening. “We’ve been walking into hell alone.”

Kael chuckled weakly. “I told her you all missed me.”

Selene broke into a run and caught Kael in a hug before he could fall. “You’re alive,” she whispered, her voice hoarse with disbelief.

“Barely.” He looked over her shoulder at Elias. “Nice sword. Miss me?”

“Like a festering wound,” Elias muttered, but the relief in his voice was clear.

Lyra’s gaze snapped to Mira. “You could’ve told us sooner.”

“I couldn’t risk exposing him,” Mira said. “He’s more valuable than a message.”

Selene pulled away, scanning Kael’s injuries. “You need rest. And healing.”

“No time,” he said. “Darian’s nearly merged with the gate. He’s using an artifact—a corrupted version of your medallion.”

Selene paled. “He’s trying to twist the eclipse bond.”

“Yes,” Mira said. “But he’s unstable. The gate is rejecting him.”

Lyra’s eyes narrowed. “Which means we have a small window.”

Theron finally spoke. “If the gate rejects its wielder mid-merge, it doesn’t simply shut. It collapses.”

Elias muttered a curse. “That’ll take the entire valley with it.”

“And likely fracture the veil between worlds permanently,” Selene added.

They fell into silence.

Then Selene stood straighter. “We need to destroy the artifact. And seal the gate—for good.”

Hours Later – The Battlefield Edge

They moved through the forest in formation. Selene and Elias at the front, Mira and Kael just behind. Lyra scouted ahead, blades drawn. Theron walked with the precision of a condemned man—not running, not dragging—simply ready.

The mist grew thicker the closer they moved to the sanctum’s edge. The forest groaned, pulsing with dark magic. Branches bent in unnatural angles, and stones bled black ichor where light touched them.

Selene’s medallion pulsed rapidly now. Her steps faltered.

Elias noticed. “What do you see?”

“Visions,” she breathed. “Of Naelira. Of the past. Of Darian, twisted by grief and ambition.”

She closed her eyes—and saw a memory not hers:

Naelira and Darian, younger, standing before the newly risen gate. He begged her not to close it. Said they could control what came through. Said their bond was strong enough. She refused.

He watched her die. And vowed to never love again.

Selene staggered.

“I need to destroy him,” she whispered.

“You need to survive him,” Elias corrected.

Sanctum Perimeter – Hours Before Dawn

They reached the edge of the cliff. Below them, the sanctum cracked like a wound in the earth. Red lightning streaked the skies above it. The corrupted medallion floated midair, suspended in a sphere of shadow and bone.

Darian stood below, arms outstretched, chanting in an ancient language no longer spoken by sane men.

They crouched behind the ridge, scanning the guards—half-corrupted wolves and broken sentinels.

“We’ll never get through quietly,” Kael murmured.

“We don’t need to,” Lyra said. “We just need a distraction.”

Theron stepped forward. “Let me go first.”

Selene turned to him sharply. “You’ll be killed.”

“I’m already dead to him,” he said. “But if I distract him… you can sever the artifact’s power.”

Elias frowned. “And what if he uses you as a vessel?”

Theron looked at Selene. “Then you finish it. No matter what.”

Silence again.

Then Selene nodded.

“Let’s end this.”

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