The tremors had started again, shaking the ground beneath them as the Spire loomed overhead. Zarin and Reya stood beside Maros, their bodies still aching from the transformation, their senses sharpened by the awakening of the Old Magic. But something was wrong. The Spire, once so imposing and immovable, now trembled like a structure on the verge of collapse.

A low rumble echoed from deep within the earth, and Zarin felt the vibrations in his bones. He looked up at the towering Spire, its surface cracked and crumbling, pieces of stone falling away like brittle flakes of dried mud. The air around them hummed with magic, thick and charged, but there was a wildness to it now—a sense of instability that hadn’t been there before.

“The Spire is falling apart,” Reya muttered, her eyes scanning the cracks that spread like veins across the ancient stone. “Why now?”

Zarin’s mind raced as he turned to Maros, who stood silently, his expression grim as he stared at the Spire. Maros had been the one to guide them here, the one who knew the Spire’s secrets. If anyone understood what was happening, it was him.

“Maros,” Zarin said, his voice tight with urgency. “What’s going on? Why is the Spire collapsing?”

Maros didn’t answer right away. His eyes remained fixed on the Spire, his face lined with a mix of resignation and sorrow. It was as though he had expected this—anticipated it, even—but now that it was happening, there was little comfort in the foreknowledge.

“The Spire is a conduit,” Maros said quietly, his voice calm despite the chaos around them. “A pillar of Old Magic, rooted deep into the earth. It was never meant to last forever.”

Zarin frowned, his heart pounding in his chest. “What do you mean?”

Maros turned to face them, his gaze steady but filled with the weight of his knowledge. “The Spire was created long ago, in a time before the Ascendants, before the wars that tore this world apart. It was meant to serve as a stabilizing force, a way to channel and contain the Old Magic. But like any conduit, it has limits. The magic it holds is vast—far too vast for any single structure to contain indefinitely.”

Reya’s brow furrowed. “So it’s breaking down because it’s been holding too much magic?”

Maros nodded slowly. “In a way. The Spire has always been in a delicate balance. It draws on the Old Magic from the earth, channeling it through its structure, but over time, the flow of magic has become more and more unstable. The Spire wasn’t designed to handle the level of power that it’s been forced to contain for so many centuries.”

Zarin’s heart sank. He could feel the magic in the air, wild and volatile, pulsing erratically as the Spire continued to crumble. It was as though the structure itself was fighting to hold the magic inside, but it was losing the battle.

“So it’s collapsing because it’s overloaded?” Zarin asked, trying to make sense of the situation.

Maros shook his head. “It’s more than that. The Spire was designed to stabilize the magic around it, to prevent it from tearing apart the fabric of the world. But something has shifted. The balance of magic has been disturbed—perhaps by the Ascendants, perhaps by the events leading up to this moment. And now, the Spire can no longer contain it.”

Reya’s eyes widened as she realized the implications. “If the Spire collapses, what happens to the Old Magic?”

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Maros’ expression darkened. “The Old Magic will be released, uncontrolled. The Spire’s collapse won’t just destabilize the magic here—it will ripple through the land, through every place where the Old Magic flows. The Wastes are already unstable, but if the Spire falls completely, it could trigger a chain reaction that tears the world apart.”

Zarin’s stomach twisted with dread. The Spire wasn’t just a monument to the past—it was a key piece of the world’s balance. Without it, the Old Magic would run wild, spreading chaos and destruction wherever it went.

“But why now?” Zarin asked, his voice filled with frustration. “Why is it collapsing now, after all this time?”

Maros sighed, his shoulders heavy with the weight of his answer. “The magic in the world is changing, Zarin. The Ascendants have been pushing the boundaries of what they can control, manipulating the Old Magic for their own ends. But the Old Magic doesn’t respond well to manipulation. It resists, it fights back. And now, the Spire is caught in the middle of that struggle.”

He gestured to the cracks running through the Spire’s surface, the jagged lines spreading like fractures in a dam ready to burst. “The Ascendants have been drawing on the Old Magic in ways they were never meant to. The Spire has been absorbing the strain of that, holding back the worst of the instability. But the more the Ascendants push, the more fragile that balance becomes. And now, it’s too late. The Spire is failing, and the magic it holds is about to be unleashed.”

Zarin felt a cold weight settle in his chest. The Ascendants—always seeking more power, more control. And now, their greed was threatening to destroy the very world they sought to rule.

Reya clenched her fists, her expression hard. “So what do we do? How do we stop this?”

Maros met her gaze, his expression grim but resolute. “There’s no stopping it now. The Spire’s collapse is inevitable. But we can contain the damage.”

Zarin’s heart raced. “How?”

Maros turned to face the Spire once more, his eyes narrowing as he studied the crumbling structure. “The Spire is still a conduit. It’s still connected to the Old Magic that flows beneath the surface of the world. If we can redirect that flow, channel it away from the Spire before it collapses, we might be able to minimize the damage.”

Reya frowned, her brow furrowed in thought. “How do we do that?”

Maros took a deep breath. “We’ll need to use the Old Magic. The three of us, together. Zarin and Reya, you’ve both awakened the magic within you. You’ve felt its power, its flow. We can use that power to stabilize the flow of magic, to redirect it away from the Spire.”

Zarin’s eyes widened. “But we barely know how to control it. What if we make things worse?”

Maros smiled faintly, a flicker of warmth in his otherwise serious expression. “That’s why I’m here. I’ll guide you through it. Together, we can do this.”

Zarin glanced at Reya, who nodded slowly, her jaw set with determination. They had come this far—survived the trials, faced their deepest fears, and awakened the Old Magic within themselves. Now, they had to face one more challenge. One more chance to prove that they could control the power they had been given.

“We can’t let the world fall apart,” Zarin said softly, his voice steady despite the fear gnawing at his insides.

Maros nodded, his eyes filled with quiet resolve. “No. We can’t.”

The ground trembled again, a deep rumble that shook the very earth beneath their feet. The cracks in the Spire widened, chunks of stone falling away as the ancient structure groaned under the weight of the magic it could no longer contain.

“We don’t have much time,” Maros said, his voice urgent. “We need to act now, before it’s too late.”

Zarin took a deep breath, his hands trembling slightly as he felt the magic stir within him. He could feel the weight of the task ahead, the enormity of what they were about to attempt. But he wasn’t alone. Reya was by his side, and Maros was there to guide them.

Together, they could do this.

Maros placed a hand on each of their shoulders, his touch grounding them in the moment. “Focus on the magic,” he said softly. “Feel it flowing through you. It’s a part of you now, just as it’s a part of this world. Trust in it, and trust in yourselves.”

Zarin closed his eyes, letting Maros’ words wash over him. He could feel the magic, pulsing beneath the surface of his skin, waiting to be called forth. It was powerful, wild, but it was also his. And with Maros’ guidance, he knew he could control it.

Reya stood beside him, her breath steady, her eyes closed as she, too, reached for the magic within her. Together, they stood at the edge of the collapsing Spire, their hearts racing, their minds focused.

Maros stepped back, his voice calm but commanding. “Now. Let’s begin.”