Ariaxa stared at the Solar mage below until her vision blurred.
No.
No, it couldn’t be—
But it was.
Even bound in chains, even drained, even half-broken by the Triarchs’ cruelty, she recognized him instantly.
Lorian.
The boy who trained beside her in Elyndor’s Sun Sanctum.
The friend who swore to protect her.
The mage who mourned her when she “died.”
Her breath caught in her throat.
“Lorian…” she whispered, leaning dangerously over the balcony.
As if hearing her heartbeat, he lifted his head.
Their eyes met.
And the battlefield seemed to freeze.
His face crumpled with pain.
Not physical — something deeper.
Something twisted with grief.
“Ariaxa!” he shouted, voice cracking under the weight of magic. “You’re alive—by the gods, you’re alive!”
His guards yanked the chains, jerking him upright.
Queen Rhaelle smirked, watching Ariaxa’s shock with cold delight.
Lorian strained against his bonds. “Listen to me! You have to surrender!”
“Never,” Ariaxa whispered.
Lorian’s voice broke.
“Ariaxa—Kaedan will destroy Vharon to keep you safe!”
Her heart punched against her ribs.
“What?” she breathed.
“He will tear the city apart!” Lorian choked out. “He can’t control himself when you’re in danger—he’ll slaughter everything to protect you!”
Ariaxa staggered back from the mirror.
Kaedan…
Destroying Vharon?
For her?
“No,” she whispered. “No, he wouldn’t—”
But deep inside… she knew.
He would.
Rhaelle’s soldiers pulled Lorian’s chains tighter, choking him. He gasped, falling to one knee. Magic flickered violently at his palms, sunfire leaking uncontrolled.
Ariaxa’s heart split.
She pressed both palms to the Sun-mirror.
“I’m coming to you,” she whispered. “Hold on—hold on, Lorian—”
Riven’s voice tore through the mental link.
“Ariaxa, STOP.”
But she didn’t hear him.
She only heard Lorian’s choked plea.
“Ariaxa—you must surrender—they will burn the city to find you—”
His pain was her pain.
His fear was her fear.
Ariaxa lifted her hands, sunlight gathering between her fingers, building into a trembling sphere.
“Sun-link spell,” she whispered. “Direct connection—please—let me reach him—”
Lorian shook his head violently.
“NO—Ariaxa, don’t—DON’T—”
She cast it.
A beam of light shot from the tower directly toward Lorian.
It hit his magical bonds.
And detonated.
A blinding flare exploded across the battlefield — so bright even the storm clouds recoiled. Enemy soldiers stumbled, shielded their eyes, screamed. Vharon troops ducked, blinded by the blast.
And Kaedan’s flank—
The soldiers holding the left line—
were suddenly exposed.
Riven saw it first.
“ARIA-XA!” he roared mentally and aloud, voice cracking with fury. “STOP THE SPELL—YOU’RE EXPOSING THE EMPEROR!”
Ariaxa tried—
She pulled back—
But the spell had already spiraled beyond her control.
Light crackled up her arms.
Her shoulder wound tore open again.
The mirrors around her vibrated violently, glowing hotter and hotter.
“I—I can’t stop—” she gasped, magic burning through her veins. “It won’t—listen—”
The battlefield dissolved into smears of light.
The illusions shattered.
Kaedan spun around, seeing the breach in his flank.
A wave of Triarch soldiers surged toward him.
“No…” Ariaxa whispered, heart dropping. “Kaedan—Kaedan, look out—!”
But Kaedan was already moving.
He sprinted across the battlefield with supernatural speed, shoving aside soldiers, leaping over corpses, charging toward the tower, toward her.
His voice—raw, terrified—cut through the battlefield.
“ARIAXA!”
Riven lunged after him, too far away.
Lorian screamed at her from below.
“RUN—RUN, ARIAXA, GET AWAY FROM THE MIRRORS—”
But she couldn’t move.
Her legs refused.
Her magic anchored her to the tower like molten chains.
Kaedan kept running—
His cloak whipping—
His eyes locked on her—
His heart in his voice—
And that was when Ariaxa saw it.
A glint of metal.
A Triarch spear.
Flung with perfect aim.
Hurtling straight at Kaedan’s chest.