The wind cut through the sky in spirals, carrying ashes, dust, and remnants of the previous battle.
Yuta was on his knees, his body trembling, his gaze empty. He could still feel the echo of Kaelen and Seraphina's deaths reverberating in his mind. The ground around him was cracked, the mystical energy of Shedow's castle still pulsing like a black heart.
Lyra knelt beside him, holding his arm, trying to steady him.
Her body still bore the marks of Shedow's power — time around her had been distorted, leaving traces of frozen magic in the air. But now, slowly, everything seemed to return to its normal flow.
"Yuta…" she whispered, her voice trembling. "Are you… still with me?"
He responded only with a weak nod. His golden eyes shimmered with something new — something even he did not yet understand.
The clan's seal…
The sealed energy inside him seemed to pulse, beating in sync with the rhythm of his own heart.
Then the air trembled.
A laughter echoed across the battlefield. It came from nowhere… and everywhere at once.
It was a light, mocking sound, yet old enough to make even the trees shudder.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk… what a tragic scene."
"So much drama, so much blood, and all because one of you forgot to read the script properly."
Space distorted, and from a black portal as empty as the void, Malhar appeared floating — or rather, hovering upside down, legs crossed, with a smile that disrespected gravity, laws, and common sense alike.
"Ah, the smell of fresh chaos…" He took a deep breath, spinning in the air before landing softly.
"Shedow sure knows how to make a mess. An misunderstood artist, I'd say."
Lyra rose, surprised.
Yuta merely stared — feeling the same kind of energy that radiated from Shedow, but in a completely different way.
While Shedow brought fear and silence, Malhar brought restlessness and disorder. It was impossible to tell if he was a threat or a joke.
"Who… are you?" Lyra asked, stepping forward.
Malhar smiled, tilting his head.
"Me? Depends who's asking. Some call me the Madman. Others, the Watcher. But personally, I prefer 'the one who ruins the ending before its time.'"
He twirled his finger, and time stopped.
Leaves froze midair. Embers suspended, no longer falling.
The only things still moving were the three of them.
Malhar looked at Yuta, floated over, and — without warning — flicked the boy's forehead.
The sharp sound echoed, and moments later, Yuta's body was flung miles away, streaking across the sky like a purple meteor.
Lyra screamed, but Malhar just watched, amused.
A snap of his fingers.
A portal opened exactly where Yuta was about to crash — and another opened just behind Malhar.
Yuta passed through the portal at high speed and landed back in the same spot from which he had been thrown.
The ground shook beneath the impact.
Malhar smirked.
"All fixed." He snapped his fingers again, and time began flowing normally once more.
Lyra ran to Yuta, desperate. "What was that?!"
"Oh, nothing special," Malhar said, brushing imaginary dust off his shoulder. "Just… broke his clan seal."
"What?!" Lyra shouted, confused.
Malhar crouched, lightly touching Yuta's forehead — who was still trying to comprehend what had just happened.
A violet light glowed over his body — and for a moment, ancient symbols started appearing beneath his skin, burning in golden lines.
It was the heritage of his clan awakening.
"The seal was keeping him from accessing who he truly is," Malhar explained, with a tone mixing irony and wisdom. "And honestly, I hate wasted potential."
He looked Yuta up and down. "Now he can really play with fate."
Lyra narrowed her eyes. "And why… are you helping us?"
Malhar laughed.
"'Helping'? Oh, my dear, that word gives me hives." He theatrically scratched his neck. "I just… adjust the balance.
A little chaos here, some hope there… otherwise, the universe gets boring."
He turned toward Lyra, bringing his face close enough to almost touch hers.
His eyes were a mixture of gold and green, reflecting a thousand worlds — and a thousand insanities.
"You're trapped in something too, you know?"
"Me?" Lyra stepped back, confused. "What do you mean?"
Malhar smiled, and before she could react, he touched his finger to her forehead.
Time stopped again.
A flash flooded Lyra's mind.
Suddenly, she was no longer there.
She saw other versions of herself in ancient eras — crowned on stone thrones, commanding armies of witches, sealing gods, crying alone beneath bloody moons.
The weight of past lives crushed her.
She saw the original Queen of Witches, imposing, dressed in a cloak woven from black stars.
She heard her voice:
> "Whoever seeks the power of the blood must know the price of the name Lyra."
The sound thundered inside her mind.
Lyra fell to her knees, trembling, her gaze empty and wet.
The ground beneath her fingers cracked, absorbing the tears falling.
When she raised her eyes, Malhar was smiling calmly.
"Now you remember, don't you?"
"…I saw… I saw them all," she whispered, voice shaking. "The queens before me… and their power…"
Malhar gave a half-smile. "Excellent. Start remembering slowly. If you try all at once, your brain explodes. And I hate cleaning up mental explosions."
He snapped his fingers, and time resumed once again.
The wind blew, embers began falling again.
Yuta stood, staggering, still processing the new flow of energy pulsing inside him.
Malhar started stepping backward, and a dark portal spun open behind him.
"Wait!" Yuta shouted. "Who are you, really?"
Malhar grinned.
"Oh, boy… if I told you, you'd lose the story's charm." He winked.
"And I don't want to ruin the climax so soon."
He began to walk through the portal but stopped halfway and looked back over his shoulder.
"Oh, and Lyra…" he said with a crooked smile,
"When you dream of the throne made of bones and stars, don't sit on it."
He winked. "It's not time yet."
The portal began to close, swallowing the sound of his laughter — light, yet making the world feel smaller.
When silence returned, Yuta and Lyra remained motionless for a long while.
He breathed deeply, trying to understand the strength now pulsing through his veins.
She held her head, feeling the echoes of ancient memories whispering inside her mind.
Their world had changed — again.
But this time, not because of Shedow.
Because of someone who plays with destiny itself.
Malhar's laughter echoed one last time in the wind, distant, yet clear.
> "Ah… I love it when the plot starts to get interesting."