When I woke, the world was sideways.
The smell of scorched silk and stone filled my lungs. The air still buzzed faintly, carrying the ghost of Eiran's magic—sharp and metallic, like lightning caught in a jar. I could hear him breathing somewhere nearby, ragged but alive.
"Eiran?" My voice rasped.
A groan answered from the shadows. "Present. Mostly."
I rolled onto my back, pain flaring through my ribs. Above us, the canyon walls pulsed with dying firelight. The webs that had once covered the cliffs now hung in molten ribbons, glowing red like veins beneath skin. The mother Gorrach was gone—or maybe she had melted back into whatever nightmare had birthed her.
Elya whimpered softly beside me. Her small frame trembled, but she was unhurt. I brushed her hair away from her face. "You're safe," I said, though my throat burned with disbelief.
Eiran sat slumped against the rock wall a few feet away, runes still glowing faintly beneath the soot. He looked like a man halfway between human and storm—his skin etched with power he didn't understand, his eyes distant as if he could still see the creature he'd struck down.
"You shouldn't have used that much," I murmured.
He managed a weak smile. "And let her eat us? I didn't see another option."
Typical. Stubborn, reckless, infuriating—and the reason we were still breathing.
I pushed myself up, my armor groaning in protest. The mark on my chest throbbed once, sharp enough to steal my breath. I pressed my palm to it through the leather. It felt fever-hot, pulsing faster than my heart.
Not now. Please, not now.
Eiran noticed the wince. "Is it hurting again?"
"It's fine," I lied.
It wasn't. The mark burned hotter with every heartbeat, as if something beneath my skin was trying to claw its way free. For weeks it had been quiet—just a faint glow at night or a whisper in my dreams. But now it felt alive, awake, hungry.
The name rose unbidden in my mind: Asix.
I clenched my jaw, forcing the thought back down. He couldn't have noticed me here. Not yet. Not this soon.
Eiran's hand brushed my shoulder. His touch was gentle, grounding. "We need to move before the rest of them regroup," he said softly.
He was right. The canyon was too quiet now—too still. The Rask'Vul wouldn't let us leave unpunished for what we'd done to their queen's web. I nodded and rose, helping Elya to her feet. We began to climb, using the fractured ledges left by the collapse.
Halfway up, I faltered. The mark flared again, and my knees buckled. I pressed my hand to the stone to steady myself, biting back a cry.
Eiran was there instantly. "Auralia—"
"Keep climbing," I hissed. "Don't—"
The words broke as heat surged through me. My vision blurred, the world narrowing to fire and shadow. The mark blazed through the fabric of my tunic, its glow casting faint, sickly red light across the canyon wall.
Elya gasped. "Auralia… your chest—it's glowing."
Eiran's face went pale. "It's spreading."
I couldn't deny it anymore. The mark's lines were branching outward, curling across my collarbone and shoulder in delicate, almost beautiful arcs—like veins of living ink. It didn't feel like a curse. It felt like a command.
And it wanted out.
Let me breathe, a voice whispered inside my skull.Soft. Familiar. Wrong.You called for power once before… why do you deny me now?
I dropped to one knee, fingers clawing at the stone. "Get her away," I choked. "Eiran, take Elya—just go!"
"Not a chance."
I wanted to shout at him, to make him understand that this was not something he could fight—but the words melted into a scream. Pain lanced through my chest. The mark ignited, searing through fabric and skin. For a moment, I swore I saw runes within the light—similar to Eiran's, but older. Darker.
The voice purred again, closer now. Blood answers blood, my child. And your Warden burns bright beside you. Together, you are a door.
A sharp sound—Eiran's hand slamming against the rock beside me, his runes flaring like blue fire. The voice recoiled with a hiss.
"Not yours," he growled, though I don't think he fully understood what he'd just defied.
The light dimmed. My pulse slowed. The mark cooled against my skin, though it still throbbed faintly like a dying ember. When I could breathe again, Eiran was kneeling beside me, his face drawn tight with worry.
"Talk to me," he said. "What was that?"
I swallowed hard. "It's getting stronger. The priest was right—it's not just a mark. It's a tether."
"To what?"
I met his eyes. "To him. To Asix."
The silence that followed felt heavier than the canyon itself. Even Elya didn't speak. She just watched us with wide, frightened eyes.
Finally, Eiran exhaled. "Then we'll find a way to break it."
"You don't even know if that's possible."
He smiled faintly. "We've done plenty of impossible things already."
It was reckless optimism, but gods, I needed it.
We climbed the rest of the way in silence. The sun was low by the time we reached the upper rim of the canyon. Below us, the fires still smoldered, painting the chasm in red and gold. The air shimmered with heat and ash, and for a moment it looked as though the whole world was bleeding.
Eiran turned to look back. "You think they'll follow?"
"Maybe," I said. "But not tonight. Skra'ith won't risk the mother again."
He nodded, staring at the horizon where the first faint shimmer of Mizuhara's spires caught the evening light. "Then we keep moving."
I touched the mark one last time. It pulsed faintly beneath my fingers, quiet but waiting. I didn't tell him that when the voice spoke, it had sounded almost kind.