Vorak walked toward her, the ground trembling beneath each step as if his presence alone carried the cosmos. The closer he came, the more the air thinned like a suffocating mist.
His voice rolled over the battlefield like silk drawn over a dagger’s edge.“Why do you stand against me? You were not meant to fight. You were meant to reign. In your veins runs my power. In your breath, my will. Do you think the usurper beside you anything more than a thief wearing my crown?”
Rune drew the Sunstone blade alongside Noctharion, its glowing runes pulsing red. “If you want it, then challenge me for it.”
Vorak’s otherworldly eyes slid to him.“I will deal with you in a moment, pretender.”
A force like the weight of the world dropped on them and Rune froze in place.
Then Vorak extended a clawed hand toward her, plated in armor as dark as blood.“Come to me, daughter. Tread the infinite universe at my side. Together, we will build worlds anew from the ash and rule for all eternity.”
His voice deepened into music, dark and rich, a melody spun with honey and iron.
The cadence of it wound into her veins, a song designed to lure, to ensnare. For a breath, Alora swayed toward him. The pulsing light in his chest pulsated like a promise of power unlike anything the cosmos had borne witness to.
She reached out?—
In the back of her mind, Rune shouted.
Alora’s palm lifted. And a beam of searing white light struck Vorak.
The Titan reeled back, spun midair, and landed in an elegant stride, cutting across the ground. He reached up and wiped the smear of red from his lip, looking at it as if confused that he could bleed.
That was for her mother.
“You speak with a thrall in your voice,” Alora said, brushing Rune’s wrist on instinct, absorbing whatever power that shackled him without meaning to, drawing it into herself like breath. The spell fractured, and Rune staggered free of it, sucking in a ragged breath. “But it cannot hide the void beneath. You are nothing more than the destruction you crave.”
The little power she took shot through her veins with a rush of strength, pulsing bright through the markings on her skin.
Vorak’s response was a sharp sneer, indignant if not impressed.“You would stand against me to save a world I could dismantle beneath my heel?”
Alora looked out across the ravaged hills.
The Lords of Argyle stood beyond the city walls, soldiers bloodied and exhausted, yet unbroken. Clutching blades of Nightstone, facing an enemy far beyond their strength. They stood anyway, eyes lifted to her, fear on their faces, but resolve brighter still.
She looked to the fae gathered along the ridge, bows knocked with arrows, thorn banners rising against the gale, thorns slick with blood and iron. Zinnia sat astride her elk, chin lifted, her court silent and waiting, as if the land itself had drawn breath.
Behind her stood the Harbingers… and the Seven Courts.
More than half had been considered enemies. Now they stood in uneasy ranks, watching not the Devourer in the sky, buther. Shadows curled low at their feet, restless, listening.
This was not fear that held them there.
All waited for her to lead.
A truth settled deep in her chest. Power was not what Vorak offered. Power was not what Rune had taken. Power was not even what lived in her veins.
It was being believed in.
And being chosen.
She squared her shoulders and turned back toward the Primordial who would devour everything if allowed.
“This world is mine,” she said. Her voice rang like steel, carrying the fire that was hers alone, stronger than shadow or flame. “I lived in it. I bled in it. I grew up as one of them. Mortal, fragile, unyielding in the face of defeat. I learned their strength, their hope, their defiance against forces who think themselves untouchable. I will not let you devour my people. Not while I draw breath.” Her voice never wavered, not even before his magnitude. “Touch them, and I will destroy you.”
Vorak’s molten eyes narrowed. A charge rippled through the air as he levitated, his voice rippling with the wind.“You have the power to force the universe to its knees… yet you squander it on cattle. How pitiful that you should share their fate.”
He lifted a single finger.
