THE TWIN’S GAMBIT
The spectral Liam’s blade hovered a hair’s breadth from Amara’s throat, its edge shimmering with Spire-fire. The real Liam froze, the corruption in his veins howling in unison with his twin’s laughter.
“Choose,” the reflection sneered. “Her heart—or theirs.”
Behind him, Seraphina crumpled, her merged Marks cracking like glacial ice. Sylphine’s elven runes flickered, her voice desperate. “Liam, the ritual! Sever the tether now!”
But the Spire’s voice coiled tighter, sweet as poisoned honey. “You know the truth. She’s the lock. Break her, and we are free.”
He knew it wasn’t just a lie. The Spire’s corruption had shown him glimpses of a reality where Amara’s existence was the lynchpin holding this infernal magic in check. If she was unmade, the cycle would break. The cost? Everything she was.
“I can’t,” he whispered. But the words felt hollow, a ghost of conviction.
The spectral twin tilted its head. “Then you’ve chosen already.”
It drove its blade forward.
CASSIAN’S CRUCIBLE
Cassian’s mutated form barreled through the cavern, his Spire-warped claws shredding stone. Elara intercepted him, daggers shrieking against his armored hide.
“Pathetic!” he roared, backhanding her into a stalagmite. “You cling to a dying bloodline!”
Adrian’s Spire-fire engulfed Cassian, but the prince emerged unscathed, his golden armor fused to blackened flesh. His voice was a molten growl. “You think fire frightens me? I am the Spire’s will made flesh!”
Elric charged, his aura flaring. “And I’m your executioner!”
Their clash sent shockwaves through the cavern. Elric’s blade found purchase, slashing through the tendrils of Spire corruption laced around Cassian’s flesh, but the prince refused to fall. Instead, he laughed, his wounds sealing themselves with stolen essence.
This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.
“You are all children playing at war.” Cassian’s grin stretched too wide. “Do you even know what you’re fighting for?”
He swung again, but this time, Elric anticipated it. He twisted beneath the strike, planting a gauntleted fist against Cassian’s chest and unleashing a blast of purified essence. The prince staggered, his Spire-core flickering.
Elara, bleeding but standing, pressed her hand to the ground, murmuring an incantation. The stones beneath them shifted, rising in jagged spires to encase Cassian’s limbs. Adrian followed, summoning a wall of light that crackled with raw energy.
Elric raised his sword, its edge gleaming. “Your reign ends here.”
Cassian’s smirk faltered. For the first time, he looked afraid.
SYLPHINE’S SACRIFICE
Sylphine pressed her palm to Amara’s Mark, chanting in the ancient tongue of Alaric’s coven. The Weeping Tree’s roots lashed, resisting. The very air thickened, dense with the weight of unraveling fates.
“The ritual needs a soul anchor!” she cried. “Someone must take Amara’s place in the Spire’s grip!”
Seraphina staggered upright, her eyes twin voids. “Me. The Marks…they’ve shown me how.”
Liam recoiled. “You’ll die!”
“I’ve been dying since the Spire touched me.” Her smile was brittle. “But she deserves life.”
Amara gasped, shaking her head. “No! There has to be another way.”
“There isn’t,” Seraphina murmured, tracing the jagged fractures of her Mark. “The Spire already owns me. It’s only fair I take my fate into my own hands.”
Before Liam could react, she pressed her fingers to the ground, letting her essence bleed into the ritual’s core. The Weeping Tree shuddered, its roots retracting, devouring the last of her resistance.
THE FRACTURED CHOICE
The spectral twin’s blade nicked Amara’s neck, drawing a bead of violet blood. “Tick-tock, brother.”
Liam’s Spire-scarred hand trembled. Save Amara—or save them all.
Seraphina’s ice encased the spectral twin, freezing it mid-strike. “Now, Liam!”
He lunged, driving his sword through the reflection’s chest—and into Amara’s cocoon.
The cavern exploded in blinding light.
THE PRICE OF TRUTH
Amara’s scream pierced the chaos as her Mark shattered, the Spire’s hold snapping. The spectral twin dissolved, its final whisper a curse.
Seraphina collapsed, her merged Marks surging into the Weeping Tree. Its roots recoiled, vomiting Alaric’s skeletal form onto the stones.
“Fool…” Alaric rasped. “You’ve…fed it…a queen.”
The magic recoiled, but it was too late. The Spire’s will was already shifting, seeking a new vessel. The darkness coiled around Seraphina, her body convulsing as it poured into her.
Liam barely managed to reach her before her body arched, her eyes rolling back. He gripped her hand, feeling the last of her humanity slipping. “Seraphina, stay with me—”
Her eyes flickered open. They were no longer hers.
Black, endless. A chasm filled with whispers.
“The Convergence begins,” she declared, her voice no longer her own.