The mark on Elira's back shimmered like firelight, pulsing with an ancient rhythm—steady, eternal. She sat in silence, a thin blanket wrapped around her shoulders, as Kael gently dabbed a wet cloth across her forehead. Neither had spoken much since she emerged from the Echo Flame.
Lysena stood near the cave entrance, scanning the horizon with eyes that hadn't known peace in decades.
"We don't have long," she murmured. "The moment that mark lit up, it sent a signal—one strong enough to echo across realms."
Kael looked up from Elira, his voice sharp. "How many will come?"
"All of them," Lysena said darkly. "The Bone Priests. The Reclaimers. The Guilds. Even the Shadows of Morvae."
Elira slowly turned her gaze to her mother. "Then we fight."
Lysena hesitated. "Fighting is not survival. It's sacrifice."
Elira stood, her voice resolute despite her trembling legs. "Then I'll sacrifice. For the innocents they'll keep enslaving. For every child like me who doesn't know where they come from."
Kael stepped closer, the tension in his chest easing just a bit at her strength. "We need allies."
"There is one," Lysena said. "But she won't help unless we bring her something… important."
Elira tilted her head. "Who?"
"She was once a High Seer of the Magi Council—now she lives in exile in the Forgotten Gardens. They call her Mareia the Blind. She helped your father escape once. But she'll only reveal the next step if we bring her the Tear of Solun."
Kael froze. "That artifact is held in the Vaults beneath Red Sky Hotel. We'd have to go back."
Elira's breath caught. The hotel—her father's last escape, and the door that tied everything together. Her heart pounded like a war drum. "Then we go back."
---
The Red Sky Hotel loomed before them once more, its towering façade painted in the bruised light of sunset. The clouds above churned, red and gold streaks stretching like fingers ready to strike. It was quiet—too quiet.
The main lobby doors creaked open at Elira's touch, the same airless, shifting silence enveloping them. Once, this place had seemed like a wonder. Now it felt like a trap with velvet walls.
Kael took the lead, sword drawn, magic coiled in his palm. "Vaults are five floors beneath. Hidden behind illusion doors and bone seals."
Lysena whispered, "The spells will recognize Elira now. Her mark is a key. But it also means we'll be tracked the moment she enters."
As they descended the spiraling staircase, the air grew colder, the lights dimmer. Paintings of long-dead nobles and silent watchers adorned the walls, their eyes following every step.
"I used to come here," Elira murmured. "Before I knew… anything."
Kael looked back. "It's not your fault. None of it is."
"I know," she said softly. "But I'm going to make it my purpose."
---
They reached the Vault door—an obsidian gate carved with ancient runes and sealed with a blood lock. Kael stepped aside. "It's yours now."
Elira hesitated only a second. Then, with a deep breath, she placed her palm on the center rune. A flash of heat surged up her arm, burning like molten ice. The door groaned, creaked—then cracked open.
The chamber beyond was dark and vast. Stacked glass cases shimmered with relics, spell scrolls, glowing stones, and enchanted armor. And in the center, on a pedestal of woven crystal roots, rested a single tear-shaped gem—shining like sunlight through storm clouds.
The Tear of Solun.
Elira stepped forward—
CRASH!
The room exploded in light and sound as the eastern wall collapsed. Smoke and shards flew, knocking them back. Kael shielded Elira with his body, blade drawn, his eyes already darting for the source.
From the rubble emerged a cloaked figure, tall and hooded, his hands glowing black with death magic.
Kael's eyes widened. "No…"
The man pulled back his hood.
It was Drevyn.
Once Kael's closest comrade.
Now his enemy.
"Did you really think you could come here and not be followed?" Drevyn sneered. "You've grown soft, Kael. Falling for a descendant?"
Kael stepped between Elira and him. "You betrayed everything we swore to protect."
"No," Drevyn said. "You betrayed us—when you let her live."
He lifted his hand.
A bolt of black magic struck Kael in the chest, sending him flying against the wall. He slumped, groaning, blood pooling beneath him.
"Kael!" Elira cried out.
Lysena lunged, daggers drawn, but Drevyn waved a single hand—chains of shadow lashed out, wrapping around her body, yanking her into the air.
"I don't want to kill you, girl," Drevyn said, walking toward Elira. "But the Crystal must be extracted. For the glory of the Magi. For balance."
Elira backed toward the pedestal, her fingers brushing the Tear of Solun. The moment her skin touched it, power surged through her veins.
The shadows recoiled.
Her eyes blazed silver.
"I'm not your sacrifice," she said. "And I am not afraid."
She raised the Tear—and light erupted from her core. A shockwave blasted Drevyn backward, knocking him unconscious. The chains vanished. Lysena dropped, coughing but alive. Kael stirred, eyes barely open.
Elira rushed to him, tears slipping down her cheeks. "You're going to be okay. Stay with me, Kael."
He coughed, blood staining his lips. "I knew… you were born for this."
"I'm not leaving you," she whispered.
"I know," he smiled weakly. "That's why I'll live."
---
They escaped the vault before more could come. Drevyn remained unconscious, but they knew others would follow. The Tear of Solun glowed in Elira's pack. The next stop: Mareia the Blind, and the truth of the Crystal's origin.
But as they vanished into the night, far from the hotel, something stirred in the deepest part of the vault.
A second figure. Watching. Waiting.
And he whispered into the shadows:
"She has awakened… and the war begins."