The stairwell stank of burnt souls.
Zaire felt it the deeper they descended. The air got heavier like grief pressed into stone. Every rune-lined brick pulsed with whispers, the language too old for memory, too angry to forget.
Kael lit a spectral lantern. Its light didn't push back the dark, it only showed the bones inside it.
"Are you sure about this?" Kael asked. "Revyn isn't exactly... balanced."
"Neither are we," Zaire muttered.
"He once traded a noble's heart for a cursed apple," Kael added. "Then ate the apple in front of the noble's grieving wife."
"Efficient," Lirien said with a shrug.
The corridor opened into a wide chamber glowing with soulfire. Dozens of glass jars floated mid-air, each one containing a faint, flickering light like fireflies choking in silence.
A figure stood at the center.
Bare-chested. Skin marked with ancient tattoos. Hair silver as Lirien's, but wild matted like he hadn't slept since the last war.
And his eyes… Black pits with glowing veins of crimson lightning.
"Well, well," the man said, grinning. "Look who finally crawled back to the bleeding world."
Revyn.
"Zaire Veylan. The soul that refused to stay buried."
Zaire didn't blink.
"We need your help."
Revyn cackled, short and sharp.
"That's not how this works. You come into my temple, dragging the stink of guilt and shadow, and you want... help?"
He waved his hand, and all the soul jars flared violently. Screams echoed. Kael flinched.
"We're not asking," Lirien said, stepping forward, blades flashing.
Revyn's grin widened.
"Oh, I like her."
Zaire took a step closer.
"They have Eira. They're using her as a channel. They're pulling her memories apart, turning her into something else."
Revyn's smile dropped.
For a moment, silence.
"The healer girl?" he asked, voice suddenly colder. "The one who carried your curse in her blood to keep you alive?"
Zaire froze.
"What?"
Kael looked between them.
"What did you just say?"
Revyn stepped forward, jar-light casting monstrous shadows across his face.
"You didn't know?" he said, almost gently. "That girl didn't just see you. She bound you. Shared the curse to keep your magic from killing you when you were a child."
"She did it willingly. Burned her own fate to keep yours breathing."
Zaire's stomach dropped.
"That's why they need her," Revyn continued. "She's not just a key, she's the lock. Your bloodline curse can't be fully awakened without her soul fragment."
"So they're tearing her mind apart, looking for it," Lirien said, voice flat with rage.
"Exactly." Revyn stepped back. "Now you understand. You're not here to save her. You're here to stop them from turning her into the weapon that ends you."
Zaire turned away, jaw clenched, eyes burning. His fists shook.
"Tell me how to find her."
"You'll need someone inside the Echo Circle. They're the high conjurers responsible for the mimicry magic."
Revyn walked toward a wall covered in bone runes and slammed his palm against it. A massive map shimmered to life glowing red veins sprawling across the city.
"There," he said, pointing. "The Temple of Hollow Eyes. Cult hideout, layered with memory traps."
Kael cursed. "That place eats mages."
"Then we go as monsters," Zaire said quietly. "Not mages."
Revyn smiled.
"There it is. That's the old prince's voice I remember."
Lirien narrowed her eyes. "And what do you want in return?"
Revyn's grin returned.
"When this is over… I want one soul. Freely given."
"Whose?" Zaire asked.
Revyn looked at him.
"Yours."