The fire crackled in the center of the war tent. Outside, the wind howled through the pines, carrying the scent of ash and rain. Aria stood at the head of the table, the newly drawn map of the sanctum spread before her, its faded ink now smudged by her fingerprints. The others watched in silence.
“We go at dawn,” she said.
Zara crossed her arms. “Straight into the mouth of the mountain?”
“Through the burial tunnels,” Aria replied. “Here.” She pointed to a faded symbol etched into the bottom right. “This mark? It’s a forgotten crypt entrance, sealed off generations ago.”
Kael leaned closer. “Are you sure it’s still usable?”
“It’s the only way in without triggering the outer perimeter,” Aria said. “The wards at the main gates are layered with blood magic. We’d be ash before the second step.”
Calia stood across from her. “The crypt leads to the second tier. That puts us near the sanctum’s inner chamber. But there are memory traps along the tunnels—some strong enough to fracture the mind.”
“I’ll take point,” Aria said.
“No,” Kael interjected. “You’re too valuable. You—”
“I’m not sending anyone into magic that could break them,” she snapped. “I’ve survived worse. You know I have.”
Kael met her gaze. Then, reluctantly, nodded.
They divided into three teams.
Team One: Aria, Calia, and Elias. They’d enter through the crypt, bypass the wards, and disable the inner seals.
Team Two: Kael, Zara, and two SilverCrest scouts. Their job was distraction—strike the perimeter, draw attention, pull guards from the interior halls.
Team Three: A backup unit led by Marek, hidden in the forest with healers and extraction supplies, should anything go wrong.
“This isn’t a rescue,” Aria said. “It’s a dismantling. We don’t just want the child. We want the truth buried with them.”
“And if Evelyn’s there?” Zara asked.
Aria’s eyes burned. “We finish it.”
Hours later, she stood alone at the cliff’s edge, overlooking the valley. The storm had passed, but its energy lingered in the soil, thick and metallic.
Kael approached, his presence quiet, like it used to be.
“You really believe this child exists?” he asked.
“I believe they’ve kept something hidden this long for a reason.”
He didn’t argue.
“You weren’t wrong, you know,” she added. “When you said you didn’t want this to be our legacy.”
Kael looked down. “And yet it is.”
“No,” Aria said. “Our legacy isn’t blood. Or prophecy. It’s what we choose to protect. I’ll tear that sanctum down with my teeth if I have to. Not because of what the child might be, but because no one else should grow up in a cage of someone else’s making.”
Kael stared at her for a long moment. Then gave a soft, grim smile.
“I always knew you’d burn the world down. I just didn’t expect you to rebuild it too.”
Before first light, the three teams moved.
Aria’s group descended into the crypt, torchlight bouncing off damp stone walls. The air was thick with rot and memory—voices that weren’t theirs brushing against their minds.
Calia whispered a charm under her breath. “Mental shields. Stay close.”
The walls pulsed faintly. Old blood runes flickered to life as they passed. Aria felt them graze her thoughts—shadows trying to twist her memories, whispering long-buried doubts.
She bit down hard on her cheek, drawing blood. Reality sharpened.
They pressed forward.
Outside, Kael’s team hit the warded barrier at full force. Magic clashed with steel, and Kael’s roar echoed through the pines.
“Now!” he shouted.
Zara unleashed a wave of concussive force, knocking back the front guard. A warning horn blew from the walls, and sentries scrambled. Flames ignited across the perimeter.
Inside the sanctum, Evelyn’s inner circle stirred from their sleep.
Just as planned.
Back in the tunnels, Elias stumbled.
Aria caught him before he hit the stone.
“Keep it together,” she growled.
“I saw… my father. He was—”
“It’s not real.”
But even she could feel the threads pulling now—old pain, twisted joy. A vision of Kael cradling their child. A council room where no one raised a voice. Her mother, alive and whole.
She blinked it away.
Ahead, the passage narrowed. A final blood ward glowed crimson.
“Here,” Calia said. “This is the threshold. Once we pass it, we’re in the sanctum proper.”
Aria stepped forward.
The ward hissed at her presence.
Calia drew a blade and sliced her palm. “Let me.”
“No,” Aria said. “This is my war.”
She held her hand to the ward, let her blood drip onto the glyph.
Pain lanced through her body. Her mind filled with screams.
But the ward broke.
They entered the chamber.
It was colder than expected—no fire, no torches. Just stone and silence. At the far end, behind a wall of translucent crystal, stood a child.
Small. Barefoot. Eyes closed.
A thin silver collar wrapped around their neck.
Aria moved without thinking.
But the floor shifted beneath her—a final trap. Runes exploded to life, locking her in place. Magic surged around her, tethering her limbs, her thoughts, her rage.
From the shadows, Evelyn stepped forward.
“Hello, Aria,” she said softly.
Calia swore under her breath.
Evelyn smiled. “You didn’t think I’d leave the sanctum unguarded, did you?”
Aria tried to lunge, but the magic held fast.
“You’re brave,” Evelyn continued. “Foolish. But brave.”
“Let them go,” Aria growled. “The child. Me. All of it.”
“I can’t,” Evelyn said. “This child—your child—both of them… they’re necessary. You saw the letter. You know what they are.”
“They’re children,” Aria spat. “Not weapons.”
Evelyn stepped closer. “You think this ends with war? No, Aria. This ends with rebirth. The council dies. A new order rises. And you—”
“I’ll burn it all,” Aria snarled.
Behind Evelyn, the crystal cracked.
A sound—soft, like chimes.
The child’s eyes opened.
And everything changed.
