The Spire stood behind them, its dark, jagged silhouette fading into the distance as Zarin, Reya, and Maros made their way across the barren landscape. The ground was still, the air calm, but the weight of what had just transpired lingered heavily between them. The magic that had surged through the Spire had been stabilized, for now, but Zarin knew the consequences of their actions were far from over.

The cold wind of the Wastes swept around them as they moved in silence, their footsteps soft against the cracked earth. Zarin’s body still ached from the transformation, the magic that had reshaped him leaving behind a sense of raw, unrefined power. His bones felt heavier, his muscles stronger, but there was an unfamiliarity to it all—a strangeness in the way his body moved, as if it hadn’t quite settled into its new form.

Beside him, Reya walked with a similar tension in her posture, her hand resting lightly on the hilt of her sword. She, too, had been changed by the magic. Zarin could feel it in the air around her, the quiet hum of power that pulsed beneath her skin. But like him, she seemed unsure of it—unsure of what they had become.

Maros led the way, his staff tapping softly against the ground as they walked. His gaze was fixed ahead, his expression unreadable, but Zarin could sense the weight of his thoughts. The old mage had guided them through the awakening of the Old Magic, had stood by their side as they faced the trials of the Spire. But now, as they left that place behind, it felt as though they were stepping into something new—something uncertain.

Zarin opened his mouth to speak, but before the words could leave his lips, he felt it—a presence. A ripple in the air, subtle but undeniable.

He stopped in his tracks, his hand instinctively moving to the pendant around his neck. Reya halted beside him, her eyes narrowing as she, too, sensed it.

Maros turned slowly, his expression tightening. “We’re not alone.”

From the shadows ahead, a figure emerged.

The Ascendant moved with a grace that seemed almost unnatural, his cloak billowing softly in the wind as he stepped into the open. His armor gleamed faintly in the pale light, and the air around him seemed to shimmer with the faintest trace of magic.

Zarin’s heart quickened, his pulse racing as the Ascendant approached. He could feel the power radiating from the man, a force that was both familiar and deeply unsettling. But the Ascendant’s posture was relaxed, his hands resting at his sides, his eyes calm and unthreatening.

There was no weapon drawn, no sign of hostility.

For a moment, no one spoke. The silence hung heavy between them, the tension palpable, as if the very air were holding its breath.

Then, the Ascendant smiled—an expression that seemed almost genuine, though there was a coldness to it, a sense of something hidden beneath the surface.

“I see you’ve survived the Spire,” the Ascendant said, his voice smooth and measured. “Impressive.”

Zarin tensed, his hand tightening around the pendant. “What do you want?”

The Ascendant tilted his head slightly, his gaze flicking between Zarin, Reya, and Maros with an almost curious air. “I’m not here to fight, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he said, his tone light. “In fact, I came to offer something far more valuable than a battle.”

Maros stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he studied the Ascendant. “And what might that be?”

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The Ascendant’s smile widened, though it never reached his eyes. “Perspective.”

Zarin frowned, confusion twisting in his gut. “Perspective? On what?”

The Ascendant met his gaze, and for a brief moment, Zarin saw something in the man’s eyes—something cold and calculating, but also deeply knowing.

“On the Old Magic,” the Ascendant said, his voice soft but carrying weight. “You think you’ve tamed it, don’t you? That you’ve come through the Spire with your power intact, that you’re in control.”

Reya stiffened beside Zarin, her jaw tightening. “We did what needed to be done. We stabilized the Spire.”

The Ascendant chuckled, a low, quiet sound that seemed to echo in the stillness. “Did you? Or did you simply delay the inevitable?”

Zarin’s stomach churned at the words, a flicker of doubt creeping into his mind. The Ascendant’s gaze was piercing, as if he could see through the layers of their confidence, through the resolve they had built in the aftermath of the Spire.

“You’re playing with forces you don’t fully understand,” the Ascendant continued, his voice calm but laced with something darker. “The Old Magic isn’t something you can simply contain. It doesn’t bend to your will. It flows through everything—through the land, through time, through you. And when it chooses to rise, no one—not even you—will be able to stop it.”

Zarin’s throat tightened, the weight of the Ascendant’s words pressing down on him. He had felt the power of the Old Magic, had felt it surge through him like a force of nature. And now, hearing the Ascendant’s warning, the uncertainty that had lingered in the back of his mind grew stronger.

“We know what we’re dealing with,” Reya said, her voice steady but edged with tension. “We’ve faced it before, and we’ll face it again.”

The Ascendant’s smile faded, his expression softening into something more serious. “I’m not here to lecture you. I know the path you’re walking. I’ve walked it myself.” He paused, his eyes locking with Zarin’s. “But I came here to offer you something—a choice.”

Zarin’s heart pounded in his chest. “What kind of choice?”

The Ascendant’s gaze was steady, his voice soft but firm. “You can continue on this path, fighting against the Old Magic, trying to control something that was never meant to be controlled. Or…” He glanced at Maros briefly before returning his gaze to Zarin. “You can join us.”

Zarin blinked, his pulse quickening. “Join you?”

The Ascendant nodded. “The Ascendants don’t seek to destroy the Old Magic. We seek to understand it, to become one with it. To harness it in ways that others can’t comprehend. You’ve already taken the first step—you’ve awakened the magic within you. But there’s so much more you could become. So much more you could learn.”

Zarin’s mind raced, the implications of the offer settling heavily on his shoulders. The Ascendants—his enemies—were offering him a place among them. A chance to learn more about the power he carried. A chance to become something greater than he was now.

But at what cost?

Maros stepped forward, his expression hard. “Zarin isn’t yours to manipulate,” he said, his voice sharp. “He won’t fall into the same trap you did.”

The Ascendant’s eyes flicked to Maros, a faint smile playing at the edges of his lips. “Is that what you think, Maros? That we’re all just ‘fallen’? Is that how you justify your own failure?”

Maros’ jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

The Ascendant sighed softly, his gaze softening as he looked back at Zarin. “Think about it. You don’t have to make a decision now. But know this: the Old Magic will test you, in ways you can’t imagine. And when that time comes, you’ll have to decide who you really are. Will you fight it? Or will you embrace it?”

Zarin swallowed hard, the weight of the choice settling in his chest.

The Ascendant nodded once, a faint smile on his lips. “I’ll be waiting, Zarin. When you’re ready to see the truth, you’ll know where to find us.”

And with that, the Ascendant turned and disappeared into the shadows, leaving the three of them standing in silence, the air heavy with unspoken words.

Zarin stared after him, his mind swirling with confusion, doubt, and fear. The Ascendant’s words echoed in his mind, the promise of power and knowledge tempting but dangerous.

Reya stepped closer to him, her expression hard. “You’re not actually considering it, are you?”

Zarin shook his head slowly, though the uncertainty lingered. “I don’t know. But we can’t ignore what he said. The Old Magic… it’s changing things.”

Maros placed a hand on Zarin’s shoulder, his gaze steady. “We’ll face whatever comes next, together.”

Zarin nodded, his heart still heavy with doubt, but with the support of his companions, he knew he wouldn’t face it alone.

Together, they turned and continued their journey, leaving the Spire—and the choices it held—behind.