With delicate care, he placed it within a glass jar embellished with gold glyphs.
Anger and desperation raged through Alora’s mind, but she couldn’t move. She couldn’t escape. She couldn’t stop the horrors happening to her body against her will.
As Eldrik continued to siphon her magic, he continued to rip pieces from her memories.
Her father’s embrace.
Her mother’s lullaby.
Rune’s kiss in the dark.
No—stop! Those are mine!She cried the words in her head but only screams fell from her mouth. Her back arched. Her nails tore into her palms.
She clawed at the tendrils of her memories, but it slid away like smoke.
Her wretched cries tore through her raw throat, filling the chamber.
Her bones cracked from pressure.
From divine incompatibility.
The light magic inside her fractured as it was forcibly separated from her body. The pain nearly killed her. It would kill her. She was made of magic, and she was being unmade, split into light and dark, ash and flame.
She would unravel here.
A tear rolled down Alora’s temple, and she faintly called Rune’s name.
Eldrik smirked as he inspected a strand he’d taken from her stomach. He added it to his jar like a collection of glowing ribbons. “No gods can help you now, Alora.”
A distant roar carried on the wind and the land shook with a dark seething rage. The keep shook violently, and dust rained down from the ceiling.
He could not save her.
He wasn’t coming.
The last of Alora’s tears rolled down her temple.
Her sight darkened and her hearing dulled.
“No, you cannot perish yet,” Eldrik tsked in annoyance as her eyes rolled. “I am not quite finished.”
But the solidity of her own body was slipping from her.Everything dimmed to white, too bright and pure. The sound dulled, drawing away on wave that came after nothing remains.
Alora thought she saw him beyond the glow. A shadow reaching for her through the light?—
The door burst open and a Calveron soldier rushed in. “Sire!”
Eldrik turned, scowling. “I said I do not want to be disturbed!”
“Soldiers of Argyle have stormed the Keep.”
The din of clashing swords and the cries of battle echoed somewhere outside the hall. Help had come… but she had no more strength left to even feel relief.
Eldrik growled a curse. He tucked the jar of her magic within a satchel on his hip and grabbed his sword resting against the wall, storming outside with his men.
The door slammed shut behind him.
Alora’s fingers twitched. She tried to move, but she had lost too much blood. Her eyes rolled, darkness bleeding into her vision.
