Vaelrik found himself staring at alternate futures—visions that felt as real as the stone beneath his claws.
Future One unfolded before him: himself atop a mountain of bones, wings spread in terrible majesty, while Serenya knelt beneath him—empty, drained, a conduit he’d burned out in his hunger for power. His dragon reacted with vicious pleasure, ancient instincts whispering seductively:This is the truth of power. This is what you were made for.
Future Two shifted into view: Serenya on a molten throne, her lumen sigils rewriting reality itself, dragon cities burning in perfect spirals beneath her emotionless gaze. A witch empress ruling over the ashes of everything he’d ever known.
These visions didn’t feel like lies. They felt like openings—paths the Shadow Sovereign could push them toward if they chose corruption here in the heart of the Gloam.
Vaelrik’s pulse spiked. His dragon prowled at the edges of his mind, temptation clawing at his resolve:We could rule. We could devour. We could reshape the realm in our image.
For one terrifying heartbeat, he was tempted by the ultimate power?—
Suddenly, a noise pierced the illusions. Not thunder, not a roar—a song. Soft and pure and untouched by corruption.
Tamsin’s lullaby. The melody that had repelled the Shadow Sovereign’s influence in Cinderhollow, and that carried the memory of peace woven into its notes.
The illusions flickered like dying flames.
Vaelrik felt Serenya’s grip tighten on his neck scales, anchoring him to the real world. Her voice cut through the false visions like a blade forged from light.
This is not us.
Her conviction sliced through the temptation, reminding him of who he’d chosen to become. Vaelrik seized the mirror with his claws and crushed it to shards. His dragon roared in rejection of the false destiny, the sound shaking stone from the cavern ceiling.
The illusions collapsed into ash.
Serenya was still there, still choosing him despite every reason not to. Her heartbeat pulsed against his spine, steady and real and his.
We choose,he projected with absolute certainty.Us.
The Shadow Sovereign’s displeasure trembled through the ground, but Vaelrik no longer cared about ancient entities and their hunger for chaos.
“Hold,” Serenya whispered, her voice carrying the weight of absolute trust.
He held. She carved a hybrid lumen sigil into his scales—his Obsidian sigil merged with her Vex sigil, light and shadow braided together in perfect harmony. Pain seared white-hot through his dragon form.
Within seconds, his shadowfire erupted from his chest—threaded with gold-white light, guided by her sigil magic, and strengthened by Tamsin’s resonant lullaby humming beside them.
This wasn’t destruction. This was rewriting reality for peace.
The shadow beasts unraveled into neutral elemental forms. The Shadow Sovereign’s hold snapped like breaking chains. The Shadowbinder’s eyes went wide with horror.
Vaelrik aimed his next blast directly at the warlock. The Shadowbinder raised a mirror shard desperately?—
Too slow.
Vaelrik’s combined power struck true. The glass screamed as it shattered. The Shadowbinder’s voice broke through the chaos.
“Wait—!”
Vaelrik didn’t wait. He lunged forward, his massive jaws closing around the warlock’s throat. His shadowfire flooded through every curse sigil and every line of corrupted will, burning away centuries of twisted ambition.
The Shadowbinder disintegrated into nothing.
TWENTY-ONE
SERENYA
The Shadowbinder’s disintegration sent ripples through the corrupted air, his form unraveling into ash and void. Serenya didn’t hesitate—she slammed her palms into the blood-soaked stone at the heart of the rift, pouring every ounce of her evolved lumen magic into the most complex sealing sigil she’d ever attempted.
