The prison consumes her memories, using them to strengthen its binding. Each precious moment stolen and transformed into another link in her chain.
Yasar moves closer to the prison, gaze tracking the flow of magic with sharpness and focus. He circles the cage like a hunter studying prey, his expression intent, calculating.
"Yanki Hapishanesi," he murmurs, and there's something in his voice—recognition mixed with dark fascination. "EchoPrison. I've seen the blueprints in the old archives, but never thought anyone would actually build one."
I watch him study the structure, and some instinct makes my shadows coil tighter around Nesilhan. Not just protective—possessive. The way he looks at the prison's construction, the way his magic probes its defenses, speaks of someone who understands this particular brand of cruelty on an intimate level.
"You recognize it," I observe, making it sound casual though my shadows betray my suspicion.
"Erlik showed me the designs once. During my training." Yasar doesn't look away from the prison. "Ancient demon work, from before the courts split. He said knowledge of such things might prove useful someday."
"And did you find it useful?" Elçin's voice cuts through the tension, sharp with accusation. She's positioned herself between Yasar and Nesilhan, one hand resting on her sword hilt. "Learning how to trap people in their own worst memories?"
Yasar finally turns to face us, and for just a moment, his careful mask slips. What I see underneath isn't quite guilt, but it's close enough to make me reconsider whether to kill him immediately or wait until we're out of the Veil.
"I didn't build this," he says quietly. "But yes, I understand how it works. The prison requires a resonance key—something that matches the prisoner's essential magical signature. It siphons on memories, using them as both binding material and power source. The more the prisoner struggles, the stronger it becomes."
"Can you break it?" Nesilhan demands, her voice tight with barely controlled emotion.
Yasar's expression turns calculating. "Theoretically, yes. But breaking it will likely trigger every defensive measure in this place. And there's no guarantee she'll survive the process. These prisons are designed to kill their occupants if tampered with."
Banu laughs, a sound like breaking glass. "How wonderfully dramatic. A fairy's death to save a fairy's life. There's poetry in that, don't you think?"
"There's nothing poetic about this," Nesilhan snaps. "There has to be another way."
"Preferably one that doesn't involve sacrificing what little sanity I have left," Banu suggests with dark humor.
But she's looking past us now, her gaze fixed on something—or someone—she hasn't seen before. Her lavender eyes widen, then narrow with shameless appreciation.
"Holy fuck," she breathes. "Who's the pretty boy with the violet fuck-me eyes?"
"That's Yasar," I say flatly, already regretting this conversation. "My cousin. Can we focus on the part where you're dying and we need to leave?"
"Your cousin?" Banu's eyebrows shoot up. "Shadow Boy, did someone make a prettier version of you? Because he's got your whole 'dangerous predator' thing but with better tailoring."
"I'm standing right here," Yasar says mildly.
"I know." Banu grins despite the silver blood on her lips. "Trust me, gorgeous, I'm very aware." Then her expression sharpens, humor draining away. "I can feel that binding from here. And the way you're looking at Nesilhan? That's not helping, Pretty Boy. That's hunger."
"We don't have time for this," I interrupt, my shadows coiling with impatience. "The bubble's failing, there are hundreds of creatures outside, and you're bleeding out. Can the character analysis wait until we're not about to die?"
"Probably not," Banu admits, then coughs, more silver blood speckling her lips. "But I needed to say it. He's dangerous, Nes. Different kind than Shadow Boy, but dangerous."
"Noted," Nesilhan says quietly. "Now can we please get out of here?"
"We can't," I say, hating the words even as they leave my mouth. "Not without breaking the prison first. The moment that bubble fails, we'll have every horror in the Veil on us. We need her mobile."
Banu manages a weak laugh. "Mobile. Right. Because I'm in such excellent running condition."
"Actually," Yasar says, still studying the crystalline structure with that calculating expression, "the prison itself is the problem. It's not just containing her—it's actively draining her life force. Even if we carried her out, she'd be dead before we reached the exit."
"So break it," Elçin snaps, her hand on her sword hilt. "You've been circling it like a predator for five minutes. Either you know how to open it or you don't."
Yasar turns to face Nesilhan directly. "I do. But it requires you. The resonance key needed to break this prison isn't just any compatible magic. It requires someone with a deep connection to the prisoner. Someone whose power signature is complementary rather than identical."
He lets that hang in the air for a moment, and I watch understanding dawn across Nesilhan's face.
"A soul bond," she breathes. "Or something like it."
