The silence that followed Eira's decision was deafening.
The chamber around them—The Hollow Heart—shuddered as the last of the ancient wards dissolved into ash. The mirror-like seal that once shimmered at the chamber's center now pulsed with dark light, almost as though it were alive, breathing, waiting. The Heart had recognized her.
And now it wanted more.
Lucien stood just behind her, his voice low and tight. "You don't have to do this alone."
But she didn't turn around. Her fingers hovered inches from the seal, its energy brushing her skin like cool breath. "I was born for this, wasn't I?" Her voice was soft, but resolute.
Valtherion, still recovering from the encounter with the guardian, stepped forward. "No one is born to be a key. That fate was forced upon you, written in ancient blood and bound by forgotten vows. But now—you choose."
Eira closed her eyes.
All around her, she could feel it. The threads of the city, its sorrow, its rage, its pain. The weight of lives lost and sealed beneath stone. The despair of gods who had once carved this place into the bones of the world.
"I choose to unlock it," she whispered.
Her palm pressed to the seal.
The response was immediate. The light burst outward, engulfing her in silver and violet flame. The mirror surface cracked—veins of energy snaking across its face—and began to pull her inward. Lucien shouted something, but it was too late.
She was inside.
Within the Seal
It was not darkness that greeted her, but memory.
She floated in a space that wasn't space, surrounded by fragments of time—visions of lives she had never lived and moments she almost remembered.
She saw herself—no, versions of herself. A girl with golden eyes kneeling before a dying dragon. A warrior woman raising a sword in a battlefield of bones. A queen on a throne of mirrors, her reflection endless.
And then—
A man with white hair, crimson eyes filled with sorrow.
Valtherion.
But younger. Softer. He stood at the edge of a pool of blood, holding a child in his arms. Not a weapon. Not a key. A child. Her?
The echo of his voice carried through time.
"Forgive me. One day, you'll understand why I broke the world to make you."
The vision dissolved, and pain lanced through her chest. It wasn't her own. It was the pain of the city, of Valtherion, of the countless lives sacrificed to keep the seal intact.
And now—she was the seal.
She gasped as the tendrils of light began merging with her body. Symbols etched into her skin, glowing faintly—markings of the First Tongue, the language of fate.
Outside the Seal
Lucien paced like a caged beast. The seal had stabilized, no longer surging, but Eira had vanished within it. He had no idea if she was conscious, alive, or—
"She's merging with it," Lyselle said, watching the energy shift. "Becoming part of the gate."
Valtherion remained silent.
Lucien turned to him. "There has to be a way to get her back."
Valtherion didn't meet his eyes. "Not back as she was. This place doesn't return what it takes—it remakes it."
Lucien's fists clenched. "Then we find a way to remake her whole."
Ravien, leaning against the wall, added, "We should prepare for what comes next. That thing—the Heart—was holding something back. And now it's awake."
As if summoned by his words, the chamber began to tremble.
Runes carved into the floor ignited. The seal pulsed once—twice—then cracked.
From the shadows of the cavernous walls, massive stone doors began to shift open. A roar echoed from below—deep, ancient, hungry.
Lyselle drew her blade. "Something's coming."
"No," Valtherion said. "Everything is."
Within the Seal
Eira stood at the center of a vortex of light and shadow. The threads were no longer attacking her. They recognized her. Obeyed her.
A voice filled the void—not hers, not the city's. Something older.
"You are the final vessel. The last lock. The chosen key."
She raised her hands. "Then open."
The seal splintered around her. Not destroyed—but unfolded.
From within the hollow shell, a staircase spiraled downward into a deeper dark, made of bone and silver. The path to the city's core had revealed itself—and she had become its gatekeeper.
Back in the Chamber
Eira emerged from the seal—slowly, deliberately. Her eyes glowed faintly violet, her skin marked with luminous sigils. She looked different—but still her.
Lucien rushed to her. "Eira!"
She caught him, barely able to stand. "It's not over."
He held her close. "I know. But you came back."
Valtherion stepped forward, his gaze locked on her. "You've changed."
"I've remembered," she said quietly. "We don't have much time. The sanctum below has awakened. Whatever was sleeping… it's no longer bound."
She looked down toward the staircase that had formed in the center of the chamber.
"We need to go deeper," she said.
Lucien met her eyes. "Then we go together."
And with the seal behind them and the fate of the city ahead, they descended into the darkness.