I draw inspiration from it—fromher, from the well of power singing in my chest, clawing at my binds to be unleashed. I siphon small amounts out and send them into the fingertips of my left hand, while my Starforged Blade sings and brands its victims with every slice in my right.
I spear my magic out with one hand and carve into throats with the other—and the feeling is sweet, possessed by rage and fury of years spent in hiding.
I feel invincible.
Every drop of magic the gods buried inside me rejoices in my brutality.
And then it hits?—
Pain, sharp and cold, tears through my ribs.
I stumble.
My vision tilts, the weight of the blade in my hand vanishing as the world lurches sideways. The coppery taste of blood fills my mouth—except I haven’t been cut.
My heart thunders, but there’s another rhythm beneath it—another pain, deeper, older.
Kael.
I can feel him.
His magic is fraying—each tether stretched thin, snapping one by one as he pours everything into holding that godsdamned cloak above ground. I can feel the pull of it, the weight dragging him under like a rip tide.
And worse?—
I can hear him.
Not with my ears.
Inside my own mind.
“Elyssara—where the fuck is she?”
The thought isn’t mine.
It’s jagged. Raw.His. Breaking into my mind like a blade through bone.
“Kael—?” I gasp, my hand curling against my ribs where the phantom pain sears.
“Get. To. Her.”
His voice, rough and desperate, claws through my mind before vanishing like smoke.
“Elyssara—MOVE!”
Merrik’s shout yanks me back to the now.
I barely twist in time—a sword cleaving down where my head had been.
My dagger’s gone—lost in the chaos—so I grab the nearest thing I can, a broken pike from a fallen guard, and ram it into my attacker’s chest.
Blood sprays hot against my cheek. My hands shake.
“What the fuck was that?” I breathe. But there’s no time. The battle rages on, brutal and relentless.
And I still feel him.
Feel the strain of him holding on—barely.
