Morganya leapt back as a column of light and wind surged into the sky, ripping open a hole in the clouds themselves.
A glistening, shifting core slowly rose from the depths of the water into the air. It was radiant, so bright, that it hurt to look at it, and it glowed as though it held the entirety of the night sky’s Deities’ Lights within it.
And itdid,Ana realized, watching as the tendrils of light spread from its heart, weaving in patterns as it dispersed through air and ice and water.
This was it. The Deities’ Heart. The long-lost core of all alchemical power and magic in this world, rumored to grant a mortal the powers of the gods.
Morganya raised her hands. In that moment, the light of the Heart shone on her face. Ana had always thought her aunt to hold the great and terrible beauty of a Deity, but in this moment, there was nothing left on her face that resembled humanity. Her features twisted in greed and wrath, lust for power made brighter by the searing light of the Heart.
Ana flung her Affinity forward just as Morganya reached for the Heart.
Ana’s Affinity latched on to Morganya’s blood, bright and hot and pulsing. She’d done this before, so many times: One pull, and she could finish it all.
Ana looked at the woman whom she had once considered her aunt, whom she had once loved, and hesitated.
From all around them came a chorus of terrifying screams, shrieks that crawled beneath Ana’s skin, as though the sky and the sea were crying. The glacier walls around them began to tremble; water spilled over the edges of the ice in violent lunges.
An explosion of force tore through the air, ripping her Affinity from Morganya and flinging Ana back onto the ice. She tasted copper against her tongue. Felt a hollow burn deep inside her as her Affinity flickered out beneath the cold current of energy that radiated from Morganya.
Shadows darted beneath the ice in jagged patterns. Through a fissure in the ice, a ruselkya leapt up and slammed onto the ice at Ana’s feet. The siren’s face was contorted in a silent wail, eyes rolling into the back of its head as it writhed, arms and legs and fingers bent at wrong angles.
The same thing was happening all around. From far off, an icewolf rose from the top of a glacier, its mournful howl slicing through the cacophony. It ran a few paces before collapsing, blue flames of eyes sputtering out. A hawk syvint’sya spiraled from the sky, crashing into the waves.
A dozen steps away, Morganya was bent over, gasping for breath. A strong gale had risen, howling with the fury of ancient pain. Ice spirits, ruselkya, and the Deities’ Lights flashedall around them as the clouds began to shift, faster and faster until—
Morganya grunted. Heaved.
And with a resounding crack, the nebulous surface of the Deities’ Heart fissured in her hand. Light began to bleed from its crack, spiraling into Morganya’s outstretched fingers.
The strength was sapped from Ana’s bones. She sank to her knees, aware only that Morganya was doing the same, both covering their ears as a shrill screaming pierced the air. It felt like losing her Affinity all over again, only this time, the pain was white-hot, electric, as though death itself were twining its grasp around her throat.
A brilliant light beamed upward from the Heart itself. It shot skyward, twisting like a tornado with all the colors of the world. And Ana couldsensepain emanating from that spot, reflecting inside her as though she were a part of it all: an ancient anger, churning deep in the vast hollowness of her chest where her Affinity had once been.
The magic that manifested in all Affinites, in ice spirits and ruselkya and wassengost and all legendary creatures in this world…it was hurting.
And it was furious.
This was the Deities’ might, Ana thought as she squinted up at that light that seemed to tear open the heavens themselves. This was how it felt to incur the gods’ wrath.
This was how the end of the world began.
The tides of the battle had turned. As Linn soared overhead with her windsailers, the other Kemeiran wielders poured in like a wrathful wave, surging through the Cyrilian Imperial Patrols. Linn watched as the windsailers plunged down in a flash of blades before soaring back into the sky, scythes stained red. She thought of the time she’d sat at the edge of a lake watching white herons dive for fish.
Steel lashed out; red misted the air.
The Kemeiran wielder armies fought in formation, their fighting styles calling to mind dancing as they moved through the battle, smooth as silk yet sharper than swords. A shiver ran up Linn’s spine as she beheld the wielders.
The Imperial Patrols, even with their Inquisitors, were no match for the trained wielders and Temple Masters of Kemeira. The Kemeirans wielded the elements with a strategy and precision that the Cyrilians lacked, coming from centuries of training and study. Ana’s army, encouraged by the sudden appearance of powerful allies, began pushing back.
That was when it happened.
A sudden shock wave blasted across the skies, rippling overthe ocean and tearing apart clouds. The entire world shuddered, and for a moment, time seemed to come to a standstill.
And then the pain started.
It felt as though her head were splitting apart—a white-hot, searing flame cleaving through her temple. Linn cried out as her control over her winds faltered. She spiraled, crashing into the sand, daggers slipping uselessly from her hands. Stars burst before her eyes, and deep down, she felt a burning sensation where her Affinity might rest.
Through the mist in her eyes, she looked up.
