The undead soldier — the one wearing Elyndor’s golden pauldrons — stumbled toward her.
Ariaxa couldn’t breathe.
“Solyn…” she whispered. “Solyn, no… please…”
The world around her disappeared.
The screams.
The fire.
The clash of steel.
All she could see was the man who once lifted her onto his shoulders to watch Sun festivals…
the man who shielded her with his own body during raids…
the man who died trying to save her family.
Now he was dead again, forced into a puppet of war.
“Princess…” the corpse croaked, but the sound was warped, like a memory pulled through mud.
Something in the undead soldier hesitated.
A twitch of the head.
A tilt, as if trying to remember something lost.
Ariaxa stepped closer without realizing.
Her hand lifted.
“Solyn,” she breathed, voice breaking, “I’m here.”
The undead creature jerked once.
Went still.
Something like warmth — or the faintest echo of his former loyalty — flickered in those violet-glowing eyes.
Then—
With a shudder, the corpse collapsed into dust.
Not attacked.
Not burned.
Not destroyed by magic.
It simply… let go.
As if even death could not force him to harm her.
Ariaxa’s heart broke open.
A sob tore from her throat — silent, raw, shattering.
Her Sun-fire flickered.
Dimmed.
Went out.
And that was all Rhaelle’s army needed.
Shadow-beasts surged forward.
Undead soldiers lunged.
Corrupted mages unleashed bolts of void lightning.
Ariaxa stumbled backwards, her vision tunneling.
“No—no, no—” she gasped, trying to summon her power. “I can’t—”
Riven was already there.
He slammed into her side, knocking her out of the path of a bone spear. His blade carved through three undead, but the fourth impaled him through the shoulder.
“Riven!”
He grunted, clutching the wound with blood-slicked fingers. “Don’t—look at me. MOVE.”
A shadow-beast lunged at her—
Kaedan tackled it mid-air, ripping its spine out with his bare hands. His eyes blazed with blood-red fury.
He grabbed Ariaxa with one arm, Riven with the other.
“Inside!” he roared. “NOW!”
Ariaxa resisted weakly. “Wait—Solyn—he—he saw me—he remembered—”
“HE IS DEAD,” Kaedan shouted fiercely. “And if you collapse out here, YOU WILL JOIN HIM!”
His voice cut through her like a blade.
Another spear flew toward them—
Kaedan spun, shielding both Ariaxa and Riven as it shattered against his shoulder.
He didn’t react to the pain.
He only tightened his grip.
They ran through the chaos — into the palace gatehouse, through a gauntlet of soldiers, past the inner barricades.
Guards sealed the doors behind them.
The moment they were safely inside, Kaedan shoved Ariaxa against the wall — not harshly, but with desperate force — gripping her shoulders so hard she gasped.
Her tears were hot on her cheeks.
“Kaedan…” she choked. “He knew me. Even dead, he—he chose to fall. And I—I had to kill the others—I can’t—”
Kaedan slammed his hand beside her head, breath wild, eyes blazing not with anger—
but with fear.
“Ariaxa,” he growled, “look at me.”
She did.
Barely.
His voice softened but only sharpened.
A razor wrapped in velvet.
“You are the Sun-Eclipse Queen,” he said. “And the dead rise because they fear what you will become.”
Her lip trembled. “I never wanted this—”
“But they DO,” he said fiercely. “Rhaelle. Vaelen. Every bastard who ever tried to chain you. If you break now, they win.”
“I saw my past,” she whispered. “And it broke me.”
Kaedan leaned in, forehead nearly touching hers.
“Then let me hold the pieces,” he said. “Let me carry what you can’t. Because you are not alone, Ariaxa. Not anymore.”
The bond pulsed, warm and fierce and grounding.
Her breath steadied.
Her tears stopped.
Resolve hardened.
She wiped her face.
“You’re right.”
Kaedan shook his head. “No. YOU are right. You always were.” His voice cracked. “If they hurt you again—if they destroy you—I won’t come back from it.”
She cupped his jaw, thumb brushing dried blood from his cheek.
“Then stay alive,” she whispered. “And let’s end this.”
He caught her hand, pressing it to his chest.
“As you command.”
Riven, slumped against the wall, breathed out a pained laugh. “Good… because we are absolutely drowning in undead and insanity out there.”
Ariaxa exhaled, strength returning to her bones.
They weren’t losing.
Not yet.
Not ever.
But then—
a bell tolled.
A deep, resonant, ancient sound that had not rung in decades.
Kaedan’s head snapped toward the inner hall.
“No,” he whispered. “That’s impossible.”
Riven forced himself upright, sword in hand despite the blood dripping to the floor.
Ariaxa’s magic sparked instinctively.
Because that bell—
was the Inner Sanctum’s alarm.
The one that only rang when the most sacred chamber was breached.
The warning no one ever wanted to hear.
A trembling guard sprinted down the corridor.
“Your Majesties!” he shouted, voice cracking with terror. “The—Inner Sanctum—someone—someone broke in—”
Kaedan stepped forward, face paling.
“Who?” he growled.
The guard swallowed.
“We don’t know. But they’re heading straight for the bond chamber.”
Ariaxa felt the blood drain from her face.
The bond chamber—
Where her destiny was written.
Where their souls were tied.
Where the curse lived.
Where everything could be changed…
or destroyed.