“You should have run when you had the chance,” the dark mage hissed. “My master has plans for you, Archmage. Grand plans. He’s been watching you for a very long time.”
Evander struggled against the shadow bonds, his vision beginning to darken at the edges. He could feel his magic straining against Winchester’s grip. The dark mage’s power also seemed stronger here than it had been in the chamber beneath the chapel, as if it too was amplified by the ancient magic around them.
“Why?” Evander gasped, drawing on his core in one last attempt to break free. “What does he want with me?!”
Winchester’s smile was a terrible thing. “You’ll find out soon enough. When my master completes the Codex, when he unlocks its full potential”—he leaned closer, his breath hot and foul against Evander’s face—“you’ll be the first to witness the new world he creates. And the first to kneel before him.”
Evander gritted his teeth and prepared to lift the lid on his magic.
Something stirred deep within him then.
It wasn’t his elemental power, the familiar quartet of energies that had been his companions since childhood. Thiswas something else entirely. Something older. Deeper. Like a presence that had been sleeping in the very foundations of his soul, in a place he’d never even known existed.
It felt like recognition.
Warmth spread through his chest and settled into his bones with a rightness that defied explanation. For the briefest moment, Evander felt as if something vast and ancient had turned its attention toward him—not threatening, but curious. Searching.
And finding.
Power exploded outward from Evander’s core, so strong it robbed him of breath.
It wasn’t fire or ice or wind or earth. It was all of them and none of them—a force that belonged to no element yet encompassed them all. The shadow bonds around him didn’t just break; they ceased to exist, unravelling into nothing as the surge of energy swept through them.
Winchester flew backward with a shocked cry, his shields shattering like glass.
Evander hung suspended in the heart of the convergence, light blazing around him in a corona of pure magical force. He could see everything now. Every fragment. Every current of ancient power. The very structure of the dimensional space itself.
And, most significantly, the great tome at the centre of it all.
The main body of the Crimson Codex pulsed with recognition, its pages fluttering as if stirred by a wind only he could feel. For one impossible moment, Evander felt a connection between himself and the ancient text—a thread of understanding that transcended mere magic.
Then Winchester was moving.
The dark mage launched himself toward the book with desperate speed, shadows propelling him through the void. Hishands closed around the massive tome just as Evander reached for it.
Their magics collided.
The Codex screamed.
Reality fractured around them as their opposing forces tore at the ancient text. Evander felt something give way, not in himself, but in the Codex itself. The book shuddered, its spine cracking, its pages separating.
And it split in two.
Half of the great tome ripped away in Winchester’s grasp, trailing fragments of parchment as the dark mage tumbled backward. The other half remained in Evander’s hands, heavy and warm and thrumming with a power that made his fingers tingle.
Winchester’s eyes met his across the widening gap, fury and triumph warring in those glowing depths.
“This isn’t over, Ravenwood!” the dark mage snarled. “My master will have what’s his. All of it!”
Shadows erupted around Winchester, wrapping him in a cocoon of darkness. Evander lunged forward. But he was too slow.
The dark mage was already fading.
“We’ll meet again, Archmage,” Winchester’s voice echoed darkly as he disappeared. “And next time, you won’t be so lucky!”
Then he was gone, taking half of the Crimson Codex with him.
The convergence shuddered around Evander. Without Winchester’s magic to sustain it and the complete main fragment to anchor it, the dimensional space began to collapse. The infinite space contracted around Evander, the swirling fragments dissolving into nothing as reality reasserted itself.
