Mnemion's eyes flickered with hesitation, but only for a moment. He had made his decision. With a sudden, fluid motion, he extended his hand, unleashing a torrent of purple fog—an insidious weave of forbidden memory magic—directly toward Edward.

The attack struck with deadly precision, consuming the seated figure in an instant. But instead of cries of pain or resistance, the form of Edward wavered, dissolving into nothing more than a wisp of memory projection. Mnemion's eyes widened in shock.

"Is this what it's come to, Mnemion?" The real Edward's voice cut through the air, filled with sorrowful resolve. He stepped out from the shadows in the corner of the room, his form solidifying as the concealment spell unraveled. "Betrayal?"

For a fleeting moment, there was silence as the two Remembrancers faced each other. The weight of their shared history hung between them, now twisted into something dark and tragic.

"You've always been too perceptive for your own good, Edward," Mnemion said, his voice hardening as he summoned more of his dark magic. The purple fog thickened, swirling around him like a malevolent storm.

Their words were no longer just a conversation; they were the preludes to a deadly duel. Edward moved first, his hand sweeping through the air as he summoned forth spectral warriors from the annals of history. Phantasmal heroes, wielding swords, spears, and shields, materialized around him, each one an echo of Mnemosyne's past, bound by memory magic to fight once more.

Mnemion responded in kind, the purple fog around him coalescing into tendrils that lashed out at the spectral warriors, erasing them from existence with each touch. The fog moved with serpentine precision, its tendrils seeking out and dissolving each warrior in an instant, leaving nothing but fading memories in their wake.

Edward's attacks were calculated and precise, drawing on centuries of Mnemosyne's history to fuel his magic. Each spectral warrior he summoned fought with the skill and ferocity of their past lives, their weapons slashing through the air with lethal intent. One by one, legendary figures from battles long past surged forward, their forms flickering with ancient power as they clashed with Mnemion's fog. But Mnemion's magic was relentless, unraveling the spectral forms as quickly as Edward could summon them.

The room itself seemed to shudder under the weight of their battle. Edward sidestepped a lashing tendril of fog, his focus shifting as he altered his strategy. He drew on a deeper well of power, channeling it into a single, powerful incantation. With a gesture, he summoned forth a towering, spectral knight, clad in ancient armor and wielding a massive greatsword. The knight's footsteps shook the ground as it charged at Mnemion, its blade glowing with the accumulated power of countless battles.

Mnemion’s expression remained cold, his eyes narrowing as he countered with a fluid motion. The purple fog condensed into a solid barrier, meeting the knight's sword with a deafening crash that sent shockwaves through the air. The knight pressed forward, its greatsword cleaving through the barrier with sheer force, but the fog coiled around it, constricting and eroding the knight’s form until it dissolved into nothingness.

Edward’s heart raced, but he kept his mind clear, analyzing every move, every opening. The air in the room crackled with tension as the two men faced each other, years of shared history reduced to this moment. Edward knew there was no turning back now—Mnemion had made his choice, and the stakes were too high to falter.

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"You've always been ambitious, Mnemion, but I never thought you would betray me like this," Edward said, his voice laced with both anger and sorrow.

Mnemion's eyes blazed, not with the madness Edward had expected, but with terrifying clarity. "You don't understand, Edward. The Shattering... it was just the beginning. Our world is fracturing, coming apart at the seams."

The battle intensified, the study becoming a maelstrom of clashing memories and dark magic. Edward’s face was etched with concentration, his every move a masterclass in defensive magic. He weaved between attacks, deflecting tendrils of fog with shields made of pure memory, each block perfectly timed to protect and counter. Mnemion, on the other hand, fought with brutal efficiency, his movements sharp and precise, each spell designed not just to defeat, but to erase, to unmake the very essence of his foe.

But then, as the two clashed in a ferocious exchange of spells, Mnemion subtly raised his free hand, making a small, almost imperceptible gesture. Edward’s eyes widened as he sensed it—a ripple in the air, the telltale sign of a temporal disturbance.

Before he could react, a shadow detached itself from the corner of the room—the Senior Remembrancer Mnemion had put under his control earlier. His eyes were glazed, his movements mechanical as he cast a powerful memory projection—a 7-star earth spell known as Twisted Throne. The ground beneath Edward buckled and twisted, forming a massive stone throne that erupted from the floor, its jagged arms wrapping around his legs and torso, immobilizing him in an instant.

Edward struggled, his magic flaring as he tried to break free, but the throne’s grip tightened with every movement. "Mnemion... you—" Edward began, but his words were cut short as Mnemion capitalized on the opening. With a flick of his wrist, Mnemion sent a wave of condensed fog crashing toward Edward, the force of it smashing into him like a tidal wave.

The impact knocked the breath from Edward’s lungs, and for a moment, his vision blurred. The fog constricted around him, seeping into his very Wellspring, gnawing at the edges of his consciousness. He fought to maintain focus, to summon his magic, but the stone throne sapped his strength, feeding on his own power as it tightened its hold.

But Edward was not finished yet. With the last of his strength, he focused on the pendant around his neck—the twin to the one he had given Elden. Pouring all his remaining magic into it, Edward weaved one final spell.

Seraphine... The thought echoed in his mind as the light faded from his eyes.

As Edward Vortis, High Remembrancer of Mnemosyne, collapsed to the ground, his pendant pulsed with a faint, ethereal glow. Mnemion, however, paid it no mind. His focus was on the aftermath of his actions.

"Clean this up," Mnemion ordered, his voice devoid of emotion as he addressed the Senior Remembrancer.

The Senior Remembrancer, still under Mnemion's control, nodded and set to work with eerie efficiency. He moved methodically, erasing all traces of the battle, his eyes vacant. The room, once filled with the echoes of history and power, now felt empty, stripped of its grandeur.

Meanwhile, Mnemion moved to the center of the room, raising his arms as waves of purple energy radiated from him. The very air hummed with dark power, the remnants of the battle feeding into the ritual he had begun. The fog that had consumed Edward now swirled around Mnemion, coalescing into a vortex of shadow and energy. As the ritual reached its climax, Mnemion allowed himself a small, grim smile.

The faint glow of Edward's pendant flickered one last time before fading completely, its light swallowed by the encroaching darkness.