The silence that followed was thick with tension, and Lorian's mind raced with the weight of his realization. He wasn't just fighting for control over his magic. He had been fighting against a cage placed on him since birth. All this time, every struggle—every effort—had been nothing but a futile fight against unseen chains designed to suppress him. His father, his family, had known all along.

The woman took a step back, her presence still commanding as the soft crimson glow from her chains pulsed faintly.

"Now," she said, her voice soft yet brimming with authority, "allow me to introduce myself properly."

Lorian's gaze snapped back to her, his heart still pounding in his chest.

"I am known as Lysara," she said, her crimson eyes locking onto his. "And I am the one who can help you, Lorian. I can free you from the chains that bind you, the ones placed upon you by your own bloodline."

He stared at her, his mind churning. Could she truly help him? Or was this just another manipulation?

"I know you have doubts," she continued, as if reading his thoughts. "And you should. But I am offering you something no one else can—freedom. Not just from the suppression placed on you, but from the limits that have held you back since the day you were born. I can give you access to all of your power—your light and shadow magic—without them blending into the Abyssal element."

Lorian's brow furrowed, skepticism returning. "How? You said it yourself—my light and shadow are at war within me. They're constantly clashing."

Lysara took a step closer, her chains rattling softly with the movement. "Yes, they are. But that's because of the seal placed on you. It was designed not only to suppress your power but to keep your elements in conflict. It's a clever design—created by those who feared what you might become."

She raised her hand, and in an instant, the chains on her wrists shifted, glowing more brightly. "But I can help you break that seal, Lorian. I can rid you of its influence, allowing your light and shadow to exist separately, side by side, without merging into the Abyssal element."

His heart pounded harder, the temptation growing within him. It was what he had always wanted—to access his full power, to no longer feel the suppression holding him back. To be free. But something gnawed at him.

"And what's in it for you?" he asked warily, his eyes narrowing. "Why would you help me? What do you gain from this?"

Lysara smiled, her crimson eyes glinting in the dim light. "I help you, and in return, you help me. It is a fair exchange, is it not?"

Lorian's jaw tightened. "Help you how?"

Lysara's expression darkened, and she stepped even closer, her presence looming over him like a shadow. "I have been bound in this forsaken place for centuries, Lorian. My chains are powerful, and they are old—older than your bloodline. I cannot escape on my own." Her voice dropped lower, more intimate. "But you, Lorian... you are the key."

Lorian stiffened. "The key?"

She nodded, her smile growing darker. "My way out is through you. You are my vessel. Together, we can break the seal on your magic and on my prison. By joining with you—possessing you—I will be able to break these chains once and for all."

Lorian's breath caught in his throat. Possession. That was her plan all along. He took a step back, his instincts screaming at him to run. "You want to use me," he said, his voice sharp with accusation.

"Not use," Lysara corrected, her voice soft and coaxing. "Join. Together, we would be unstoppable. I would be inside you, yes, but I offer you power, Lorian. Power to reclaim what is rightfully yours. I can help you break the seal on your magic—on our magic."

Lorian's mind raced. Everything inside him screamed to say no. This was wrong. A demon possessing him, binding herself to his soul. It felt like a nightmare unfolding right in front of him.

He took a deep breath, ready to refuse her offer, but Lysara's smile didn't falter. She raised a hand, and in a swirl of crimson light, a parchment appeared before him, glowing faintly with runes that danced across the page.

"I can sense your hesitation," she said, her voice as smooth as silk. "So, allow me to offer you something more binding. A mana contract—an agreement bound by the laws of the world and the gods themselves."

Lorian's eyes narrowed as he studied the parchment floating between them. He had heard of mana contracts before—ancient pacts sealed in magic, unbreakable and absolute. The gods themselves enforced such contracts, making them impossible to betray. If she offered him this... she couldn't deceive him. Not without suffering unimaginable consequences.

"The terms are simple," Lysara continued. "We will be bound together, but I will not control you. I will break the seal, allowing you access to both your light and shadow magic, and in return, you will grant me the freedom I seek. No lies, no manipulation. Only truths. You gain your power... and I gain my freedom."

Lorian's pulse quickened. The mana contract hovered before him, glowing with a soft, ethereal light. This was the proof he had needed. If she truly intended to bind herself to this contract, then her promises weren't just empty words.

But still, his doubts lingered. Could he trust her, even with this contract? Could he allow her to possess him, even if it meant gaining control over his own magic?

"You said you don't lie," Lorian said, his voice low. "But you do manipulate."

Lysara's smile softened. "Yes, I do. But I do not deceive. This contract is binding, Lorian. Once you sign it, neither of us can break it. I will not control you—you will remain yourself. I will simply... assist." Her eyes gleamed with a mixture of danger and allure. "And in return, you will break these chains for me. We will break them together."

Lorian stared at the glowing parchment, his mind spinning. The temptation was undeniable—freedom from his suppression, access to his full power, a way to finally step out of his sister's shadow. But possession? Could he truly trust her not to take control?

His fingers itched as he hovered near the contract. Lysara watched him intently, her crimson eyes never leaving his, the shadows swirling around her like a cloak.

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"Sign the contract, Lorian," she whispered, her voice velvet and steel. "And take back what should have always been yours."

Lorian's breath caught in his throat. The power, the freedom—it was so close, just within reach. But at what cost?

He hesitated, his hand trembling as it inched toward the contract.

The decision weighed on him like the heaviest burden he'd ever carried.

His voice came out low, uncertain. "How would it work? If I agreed... would you always be with me? Or would you return to your own form?"

Lysara's crimson eyes gleamed as she leaned forward, her presence both alluring and dangerous. "When we are bound," she began, her voice smooth and confident, "I will take two forms. Most of the time, I will be with you in the form of a tattoo, a mark upon your body, connected to your magic. You will always know I am there, but I will not interfere unless needed."

Lorian's brow furrowed. "A tattoo?"

"Yes," Lysara replied, her lips curling into a faint smile. "A sigil, etched into your skin as a symbol of our bond. It will allow me to keep the light and shadow within you separated, so you can wield them without the Abyssal element ever forming."

She paused, letting the weight of her words settle.

"And when you need me," she continued, her voice taking on a softer, almost seductive edge, "I will take the form of a familiar—something tangible that you can summon. I will still be bound to you, never far from your side. But outside of the tattoo form, I can act freely... within the limits of our contract."

Lorian's pulse quickened as he absorbed her words. A tattoo, a familiar—always with him. The thought of having her constantly by his side, either within or outside his body, sent a chill through him.

"And what if I don't want you there?" he asked, his tone sharp, though he wasn't sure what answer he was hoping for.

Lysara's smile didn't falter, though her eyes glinted with something darker. "I will always be with you, Lorian. That is part of the bond. We will be tied together. But remember," her gaze grew more intense, "without me, your light and shadow will naturally merge into the Abyssal element. You cannot control it on your own. Without my presence, the seal will be broken, and the elements will fuse. You will possess the Abyssal power, and with it... all the consequences."

Lorian's stomach twisted. The Abyssal element. That cursed magic, feared and hunted for centuries. It was the one thing he had been taught to avoid, the one thing that had been sealed away from him since birth. If he agreed to this contract, Lysara's presence would be the only thing standing between him and the very thing his family had tried to prevent.

She tilted her head, her dark hair flowing like shadows. "So, Lorian, the choice is yours. With me, you will have full control over your light and shadow magic—freedom to wield both as you wish. Without me, the Abyssal element will eventually take hold, and you will be marked. You know what that means, don't you?"

Lorian's hands clenched, his mind reeling with the implications. Marked for death. A kill-on-sight order for anyone with the Abyssal element. His life would be over the moment it was discovered, and everything he had fought for—his future, his power, his place in the world—would crumble.

He met Lysara's gaze, her crimson eyes glowing with the promise of power and the threat of ruin. "So, you're my only option," he said, his voice tinged with frustration.

"I am," she said softly, her tone almost soothing. "But in return, I offer you something far greater than just survival. I offer you mastery over what is rightfully yours. Power without limits. Freedom from the chains placed on you by your own family."

Lorian looked down at the glowing mana contract still floating between them, the runes shifting and flickering like living fire. His hand hovered over the parchment, indecision gnawing at him. The thought of being bound to her, of never truly being free, weighed heavily on his mind. But the alternative—living with his magic always at war, the Abyssal element lurking beneath the surface—seemed far more dangerous.

He could feel the weight of the decision pressing down on him, his heart pounding in his chest as he stood on the precipice of a choice that could change everything.

Lysara's voice was soft, coaxing, as she took a step closer. "Sign the contract, Lorian. Let me help you break free from the suppression placed on you. Let me give you the power you've been denied for so long."

Lorian's breath hitched. The allure of the power she promised, the thought of no longer living in the shadow of his sister, of his family—it was intoxicating.

But was it worth the cost?

He stared at the glowing mana contract for a moment longer, his mind racing, weighing the risks. The thought of carrying the Abyssal element without her protection sent a cold shiver through him. He could die—be hunted, killed for something he had no control over. This, though... this gave him a chance.

Fortune favors the bold.

With a final breath, Lorian made his decision. His hand, still trembling, reached for the glowing parchment. As soon as his fingers brushed the edge of the contract, the runes flared brightly, lighting up the space between him and Lysara. The magic wrapped around his hand, seeping into his skin, binding him to the contract. The sensation was both warm and electric, buzzing with ancient power.

He exhaled slowly, his heart pounding. "It's done," he murmured, his eyes lifting to meet Lysara's.

She smiled, her crimson eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "So it is."

Lorian clenched his fists, a mix of anticipation and uncertainty swirling within him. He had signed the contract—there was no going back now. "Now what?" he asked, his voice steady, though his heart was racing.

Lysara's smile deepened, her gaze locking onto his with an intensity that made his pulse quicken. She took a step forward, the space between them vanishing in an instant. "And now... this," she whispered.

Before Lorian could react, Lysara leaned in, her lips pressing against his in a sudden, unexpected kiss.

Lorian froze, his mind reeling as the warmth of her touch spread through him like fire. Her lips were soft, but there was something far more powerful at work—an energy that surged through his body, overwhelming every sense. His hands twitched at his sides, and for a moment, he wasn't sure what was happening.

But then he felt it.

A sharp, sudden heat flared at the back of his neck. The seal.

The sensation was overwhelming, like molten metal seeping into his skin, breaking through the chains that had bound him for so long. Lorian gasped into the kiss, his hands instinctively gripping the edge of the table as the magic within him surged. The oppressive weight he had carried all his life—the bottleneck of his power—began to shatter, piece by piece.

The seal was breaking.

Lysara's kiss deepened for just a moment longer, her magic intertwining with his in a way that made his very soul feel exposed. And then, just as quickly as it began, she pulled away, her crimson eyes glowing fiercely as the world around them began to tremble.

Lorian's body tensed, the sensation of the seal unraveling sending shockwaves through him. He felt the magic inside him—light and shadow—no longer fighting, no longer at war. The pressure that had always suppressed his power... it was gone.

The world they stood in—the illusion of Aelshire—started to crack and splinter like glass. Shadows ripped through the courtyard, and the sky above fractured as if reality itself were breaking apart. Lorian stumbled back, his chest heaving, the power coursing through him making his head spin.

"Lysara—" he started, but before he could finish, the entire illusion shattered, snapping away like a dream that had been torn apart.

Lorian's eyes shot open, and he found himself back in the ruins, standing before the now-dimmed orb. His heart pounded in his chest, his breath coming in sharp gasps as the weight of what had just happened crashed down on him.

He lifted a hand to the back of his neck, where the seal had once been. The skin was warm, tingling slightly, but the weight—the constant suppression—was gone. He could feel it, the power stirring just beneath the surface. The light and shadow within him, no longer clashing, no longer fighting.

And yet, there was something else.

A faint warmth on his wrist, like a lingering touch.

He looked down and saw it—her mark. A tattoo, dark and intricate, winding around his wrist like vines of shadow. Lysara was with him now, bound to him, just as she had promised.

Lorian took a deep breath, steadying himself. The orb that had once glowed so brightly now sat cracked, lifeless and dark; its power expended. The world around him was quiet, the ruins eerily still.

Before Lorian could turn from the orb, he froze at the sound of Aric's voice, cold and cutting through the silence. "What are you doing here, Lorian?"