“Asterious, stop!” Caramyn ran to him, all other thoughts falling away into the bloodied snow beneath her feet. She didn’t know if she’d left Sinevia standing behind her. She didn’t care.
Asterious dropped the sword, the metal hitting the ground with a cold clang, and she ran straight into his empty arms, begging, pleading as her voice nearly caved in. “Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare!” She screamed, pounding her fists against his chest with each word. “You thought you could make me hate you, didn’t you? That’s why you pushed me away…so that I wouldn’t try to stop you…but you’re a damn idiot if you think I was going to let you do this.”
“I—I wasn’t.” Asterious stuttered, “I mean, I did consider it…but how…how did you just—” He glanced at the space from where she’d just appeared, and Caramyn glanced back as well, expecting that Sinevia would be standing there. But she was nowhere to be found.
“Sinevia…” she said, eyes darting around the glade, “She’s gone. She tricked me. She showed me a vision of you about to kill yourself with the Blade…So that I would show her how to get here—to save you.” She spoke through hurried gasps, confused, ashamed, and paranoid that she’d just done something irreversible. “It was all an illusion.”
“No. It wasn’t.” Asterious stuttered. “For a moment, I thought I might…I thought this land—thoughtyou—would be much better off without me. And that at the very least I could be remembered as a man…instead of a monster.”
Caramyn pulled back, hoping he could feel the heat of her glare. “Why would you ever think such awful things? We’ll be monsters together. I don’t care. Asterious, you freed me from the darkness of a prison I didn't know I was in. Ineedyou…I…” the thought trembled its way from her lips. “I love you.”
“I know,” Asterious nodded, nearly shaking, tears shining in those steely eyes. “And I love you more than I ever even thought possible…which is why I thought you were safest in a world without me in it. I thought my enemies would stop coming for you if I was gone…” Asterious choked out the words. “But then it occurred to me that was a fool’s thinking. Because the enemies of this realm are more powerful than we realized.” He placed a hand on either side of Caramyn’s face and stared into her eyes, no longer with tenderness, but with a newly awakened fierceness as he steadied her between his hands. “But so are you.”
Caramyn looked up at him, her brows drawn together in confusion as to what he meant by those last four words.He guided her gaze downward, pointing at the Shadowblood’s sword lying in the snow between their feet.
“Look at those symbols, Caramyn. Look at the markings on your arm. They are the same.” His voice rose with urgency, with confidence. “Caramyn…youare the Blade. Forged by Shadow and sealed in Lightborn blood. You are the impossible daughter of a Shadowblood and a Lightborn.” He smiled. “Not a mystery. A miracle.”
“What? No, it can’t be. I don’t understand.” Caramyn stepped back, paranoid that Sinevia lingered somewhere unseen among them.
But Asterious was right—amongst other swirling symbols, the main sigil was the same as the one beneath her skin. Identical. And it made her shudder with overwhelm.
Asterious picked up the Blade. “You said it yourself, Caramyn—the darkness that guards the Light. The Shadow Woods have protected you all this time becauseyouare the magic left behind by both Light and Shadow.” Asterious’ eyes flashed like lightning as he spoke. “The legend said whoever could bear the weight of its darkness—of its power—could free the Blade. I’ve seen your darkness Caramyn, and I’ll bear it with you until the end of time.”
Caramyn blinked as the words crawled from her in a whisper. “If it’s true, then how do I stop this?” she stammered, more to herself than to him.
And then suddenly around them, the ground vibrated with the intensity of an earthquake. Asterious held her steady, fighting to keep them balanced as the snow cracked like stone, breaking apart like shards of ice as the ground below opened, the Veil’s mist erratic and vicious.
From seemingly thin air, with arms outstretched, Sinevia materialized at the base of the Veil’s great towering tree, chanting, muttering words in the ancient languages—wordsthat Caramyn had come across in her readings but did not understand. Her tongue flowed freely, the incantation rolling from her scarlet lips, and an essence of dark power began to emerge from the Veil, toward her, ebbing and flowing toward her and back in an indecisive movement like the tide.
Bodies crawled from the earth, clawing their way up by their skeletal remains still clad in ancient Lightborn armor—the lifeless shells of those soldiers who fell here, battling Shadowbloods and drawing them to these Woods. They rose from the earth with groans and gasps, their eyes black voids of nothing, and marched with a crippled gait toward the queen, forming a protective circle around her.
With every fiber tensed, Caramyn looked on, her mind racing through a slew of ideas for what she could possibly do. If she was the Blade, why did she feel so helpless? How was she meant to stop this?
And then Sinevia’s incantation stopped mid-word. The Veil flickered and the queen took a step back, something like fear—or perhaps disappointment—written in her serpent green eyes. The soldiers surrounding her stiffened. They breathed in horrific moans as though each breath was their dying one, and all at once they collapsed where they stood.
The queen wiped her hands on the long black skirt of her dress. “Well, well, well. How very strange. How very…unexpected.” Her voice was wrought with dry, feigned surprise. “Something is already claiming the Veil’s power...draining its essence like blood.” She slowly turned around, as though the realization had crept up her shoulder while she spoke. “Orsomeone.”
Her eyes flicked straight to Caramyn and Asterious. She turned away from the Veil and stepped toward them, moving like satin, sleek and quiet. Asterious stepped in front ofCaramyn, placing himself between them as he gripped the sword at his side.
“Brother.” She looked at the prince with a wicked twitch of her lips. “It seems your darling ‘Blade’ is no more than a conduit. Her heart beats at the mercy of the Veil. And why? I do not know. But nor do I care. For as long as she breathes, the Veil’s power is untouchable.”
“Then there is nothing left for you to gain, Sister.” Asterious said coldly. “Sinevia, this is not how I hoped to see you again. But it is unfortunately what I expected. Leave now. Renounce whatever pact you’ve made with the Shadows in exchange for their power. You are not a Shadowblood. You will never be able to wield their magic without corruption.”
“You see, brother, that is where we differ. I do not care if my power comes with a price. You, however, expect the strength without the sacrifice. You want the crown without the blood.”
“I’ve paid far more than my share in blood,” Asterious said, his voice low with restrained fury. “The difference is that the cost of your power isn’t yours alone. You’re hurting innocent people.”
“And you think you—a half-breed, bastard creature—belong on the throne?” Sinevia sneered.
“I belong to both worlds,” Asterious said evenly. “And that is precisely why I can unite magickind and humans. You won’t have to fear your own magic the way you did under our father.” His gaze sharpened. “You’re a gifted Seer, Sinevia. Imagine what you could do for the human court. I will restore the Lightborn court, and together we can bring the kingdoms back into balance. You could use your power for good.”
“Iamusing it for good,” Sinevia snapped. “The world needs order, and all other attempts to sustain it have failed. Magickind and humans have been given chance after chance at peace, and every time they’ve proven they don’t want it.” Her voice hardened. “You think you understand what’s best for this realm?You know nothing, Asterious. You were caged as our father’s slave. You know nothing of the world beyond those dungeon walls.”
"I’ve seen enough of this world to know that I can’t let it fall to you like this.”
Sinevia raised her arms in surrender with a smirk. “Then kill me, Asterious. End it now. That’s all you have to do.”
The prince stared at her, unmoving. Caramyn watched him squeeze the hilt of the sword as if to seek some encouragement from the weight of it in his hand. She didn’t know if perhaps that magic blade would be able to kill even the illusion of Sinevia, as her arrow could not. But even if it could, she knew well he would hesitate to kill his own sister, whether because he truly cared for her or because he feared it would be just enough to darken his heart forever. And Sinevia clearly knew it, too. Which is why she was prodding him, urging the beast to come out so that she could take him under her control. It had to be. Why else would she be wasting her time toying with him like this?
