The air cracked as the seven masked figures emerged fully into the chamber.
Liora stepped in front of the fragments instinctively, hands raised, magic pulsing at her fingertips. The chamber, already heavy with power, now thrummed with a new kind of tension—like the final breath before a storm breaks.
Jaeyun drew his blades, eyes locked on the High Marked. "Seven of them. That's more than we've ever seen together."
"They've come for both fragments," Virelle said quietly, rising to her feet, eyes cold. "They don't care if the chamber survives. Or if we do."
The High Marked removed his mask.
It wasn't a face Liora had seen before. But there was something familiar—not in his features, but in the absence behind his eyes. A soul hollowed by the veil, shaped into something obedient. Something ancient.
"You've interfered long enough," he said, voice dull and deep, like it echoed from under centuries of dust. "Return what was taken. Or be destroyed."
Liora's reply was simple: "No."
The room erupted in chaos.
The High Marked lunged, and the others followed—blades flashing with violet energy, shadows peeling off their cloaks like liquid smoke. Jaeyun met the first with a clash of steel, deflecting the strike and pivoting low, slashing one across the ribs. Virelle moved faster than seemed possible, casting barriers mid-air with flicks of her fingers, symbols glowing like embers in the dark.
Liora didn't move at first.
She stood still at the center of the chamber, the fragments circling her like orbiting stars. Her body trembled—not from fear, but from the energy welling inside her. Both pieces now thrummed in harmony, their song discordant and beautiful. She could feel the veil itself bending around her perception. Time slowed. Light fractured.
Then she struck.
A wave of raw force exploded outward, catching two of the masked attackers mid-charge and flinging them into the stone walls. Dust filled the air. Cracks split across the ceiling. Still, the High Marked came.
He didn't speak now. He burned.
His blade was a relic—vein-marked obsidian, alive with threads of shadow. He swung it at her with precision, and she caught it mid-arc with a barrier of golden light. Sparks exploded. Magic screamed.
"You were never meant to hold the veil," he growled.
"And yet, here I am," Liora snapped, pushing back.
Jaeyun was bleeding—one arm limp, likely broken—but he still fought, his every movement designed to protect her. Virelle cast a net of illusion that blinded the three nearest enemies, giving Liora a narrow window.
She reached deeper.
Into the fragment that was once her mother's legacy.
Into the second, darker piece, that pulsed with memory and pain.
And she merged them.
Just for a moment.
Her body arched backward as light and shadow collided inside her, her veins alight with color—white and black, gold and ink. The veil screamed through her mind like a thousand voices at once. She could see every thread of the battle. Every breath. Every heartbeat.
And she saw the truth.
The High Marked wasn't just trying to win.
He was trying to die.
He lunged again—reckless now, desperate. She dodged, turned, reached into him with her power, and peeled back the veil just enough to see.
Under the mask.
Under the years.
His name had once been Thalen.
And once… he'd been a friend to Eliara.
Her mother.
Liora's breath caught.
But the moment shattered as Thalen screamed and launched a final, wild attack. She caught his blade with a barrier, twisted, and flung him into the vault wall. He collapsed in a heap, breathing but unconscious.
The remaining masked figures hesitated—then vanished into shadow.
Silence fell.
Jaeyun leaned against the wall, breathing heavily. Virelle stepped to Liora's side, placing a hand on her shoulder.
"You saw him," she said softly.
Liora nodded. "He knew my mother."
"He was once part of our circle," Virelle said. "Before the Court claimed his will. What remains is only a shell."
Liora looked down at the fragments in her hands. The glow had dimmed. Not gone—but… waiting.
"What now?" Jaeyun asked, voice raw.
Liora looked toward the ceiling—toward the world above.
"Now we bring this war to them," she said. "And end it."
The chamber still pulsed with aftershocks, the magic reverberating like a heartbeat slowing down after a sprint. Dust hung in the air, lit by flickers of golden and violet light. Every breath Liora took felt heavier now, charged with fragments of memory, pain, and responsibility.
Thalen—the High Marked—lay unconscious near the wall, his obsidian blade cracked down the middle. The once-terrifying hum of his corrupted power had dimmed. He was still alive… but bound to a silence deeper than sleep.
Jaeyun collapsed beside a broken column, cradling his arm. Blood soaked through his sleeve, but his expression was grimly steady.
"We can't stay here," he said. "More will come. The others—those who vanished into shadow—they'll return with reinforcements."
Virelle stepped toward Thalen's body, crouched, and placed a hand gently over his chest. Her fingertips glowed silver for a moment, and a soft ripple moved through his body like a wave across still water.
"I've silenced his connection to the Court," she said. "Temporarily. It won't hold forever, but it might give him… a chance to remember who he was."
"You think he can be saved?" Liora asked.
Virelle hesitated. "I think someone should try."
There was something softer in her voice now, something wounded. And Liora realized—Virelle wasn't just remembering Thalen as an enemy. She was remembering him as a friend, once lost to darkness.
Liora turned back toward the fragments. They had fused for a moment in the fight—threaded together in her veins—and even now, they hovered around her hands like two sentient moons drawn to a single center.
"I felt something when they connected," she said. "Not just power. Memory. Not mine… but the veil's. A warning."
"About what?" Jaeyun asked, trying to stand. Virelle moved to help him.
Liora's voice dropped. "The veil is fraying faster than we thought. The Court isn't just abusing it—they're tearing it open from the inside."
Virelle froze. "That can't be possible. Not without a convergence."
"They've been planning one," Liora said. "That's why they wanted both fragments. If they unite the pieces at the wrong place, at the wrong time… they'll rip reality apart."
Jaeyun's face hardened. "Then we stop them. Where is the convergence site?"
Liora stepped to the shattered wall. Her eyes scanned the distance beyond the crypt, toward the horizon—where the cold sky bled into jagged mountains.
"I saw it in the memory," she said. "A temple. Long buried. High in the Tatras. They called it The Mouth of Threads."
Virelle inhaled sharply. "That place is cursed. A tear in the world sealed by the First Keepers. It was never meant to be touched again."
"Which makes it the perfect place for the Court to unseal it," Liora said.
She turned back to the others, eyes bright with resolve. "We go there. We stop them. We end this."
"But how?" Jaeyun asked. "You're powerful, yes—but we'll be outnumbered. Outmatched."
"Not if we find the others," Liora said. "The ones who haven't bent to the Court. There are still Keepers in hiding. My mother's allies. Yours, Virelle."
Virelle nodded slowly. "Scattered. Broken. But not gone."
"Then let's gather them," Liora said. "Let's remind the veil who still guards it."
She raised both hands.
And the fragments moved together again.
Not fully fused—but closer than ever before. One shimmered like dawn. The other like midnight.
Opposites.
Sisters.
And both now answered to her.
Far above, beyond the crypt, a rumble echoed in the distance.
Thunder. Or perhaps something darker.
Liora stepped forward. Her voice was steady. "We leave at first light. The Mouth of Threads won't open itself. But when it does… we make sure it's not the Court who speaks through it."