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📖 Chapter Twelve – Part One
The Citadel's gates were older than memory, built from obsidian shot through with silver veins. As they groaned open, Alexander stood at the head of a small procession — a unit so mismatched it looked more like an execution squad than an expedition.
Nyx adjusted her twin blades on her back. "This is insane," she muttered. "Border Wastes? With him?" She jerked a thumb at Kael Serrin.
Kael ignored her, his black cloak fluttering in the morning wind. "I didn't ask to be here either," he said. "But if the Council wants me to babysit the Ashborn freak, I'll do it."
Alexander said nothing. He tightened the straps of his traveling pack and let his gaze drift beyond the gates to the horizon where the Border Wastes began — a ribbon of cracked land under a sky bruised with violet clouds.
Sera Valen mounted her pale steed and rode closer to him. "You look pale," she said softly. "Nightmares again?"
Alexander gave a humorless smile. "Every time I close my eyes."
Liora Duskveil emerged from the Citadel last, her Syndicate badge glinting at her collar. She wore a slim black coat lined with runes, her expression serene. "We leave now," she said, "before the Wastes shift again."
Kael muttered under his breath, "Syndicate witch."
Liora's eyes flicked toward him. "I heard that."
The group moved out. Behind them, the Citadel's gates shut with a clang like a tomb sealing. Ahead, the earth became fractured, dotted with dark crystalline spires and streams of ash that ran like rivers. The air grew thin, humming with latent magic.
Alexander felt the Heart stir inside him as soon as they crossed the invisible threshold into the Wastes. A low pulse echoed through his bones. He shivered.
"Easy," Sera murmured.
"I'm fine," he said, though sweat already dotted his brow.
The landscape twisted as they moved deeper. Once-flat plains turned into jagged valleys. Shadows moved where no wind blew. Alexander noticed Kael constantly touching the hilt of his sword, glancing sideways at him as though waiting for him to explode.
Hours passed. As the twin suns dipped low, the horizon rippled and split. A fissure opened ahead, belching ash. From it rose creatures like smoke given claws — Ash Wraiths, their bodies flickering between forms, eyes burning pale.
Liora drew a small dagger etched with Syndicate glyphs. "Contact," she said calmly. "Let's see if the Ashborn Vessel is as strong as the Council claims."
Nyx twirled her blades. "About time."
Alexander's hands glowed faintly silver-black. He could feel the Wraiths' hunger — it was like the Heart's energy turned inside out.
Kael hissed, "They're coming right for you."
The first Wraith lunged, a blur of smoke and talons. Alexander ducked under its swing, the Heart's power flaring instinctively — and for a split second, the Wraith froze as though recognizing its kin.
Alexander hesitated. "They're… connected to me."
"Then shut them down!" Kael snapped, slicing one in half with a blade of black light.
Alexander clenched his fists. The Heart pulsed, and ash spun outward in a spiral. The Wraiths recoiled, their forms flickering like dying torches.
But the power felt wrong, wild. It was like trying to dam a river with bare hands.
Liora's eyes narrowed. "Interesting."
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