It wasn’t just voice.
It was command.
It was grief.
It was devotion.
It was the only word that could cut through two storms colliding.
Kailorien blinked. Blue mist burned out of his lungs, his body shuddering as if the scream had split him open. The Silari faltered. The storm stuttered.
For the first time—he was himself again.
And he reached.
Seized Auryn’s hand in both of his.
His voice tore raw from his chest, ragged but his.
“Give her back! Give Auryn back to me!”
The floating being looked down upon the Resh'Agar. The storm slowed.
From somewhere in the corner, Sevrion howled,“Restrain her!”
The moment snapped.
Auryn screamed.
The sound wasn’t human.
The Veilweave ripped from her throat, mana tearing loose.
The chamber dissolved into heat and fire.
Sevrion shrieked as his body cracked, boiled, collapsed in a puddle of molten flesh. Reskala convulsed, their bones bending wrong, armor melting into their veins. The white walls sagged, light itself bending away.
It wasn’t power out of control, but divine retribution. Kailorien staggered beneath the weight of it. His protective wards seared his skin, but held. He forced forward, shouting over the roar.
“Auryn! Come back to me!”
Her body hovered above the altar, glowing like raw sunlight. Hair floated like fire, eyes white-gold, lips moving with words not hers. Her gaze fixed on him. Endless. Inhuman.
“Silari…”
The voice was many—deep, high, mournful, like wind through graves.
“My Bonded. You came.”
“Still with these trappings. Wearing skin—letting a mortal heart guide you to ruin.”
Her glowing eyes raked over him.
He staggered forward, hand outstretched.“Auryn—”
She reached. Fingers not flesh but starlight pressed against his chest.
The Bond detonated.
