“Before we enter, I need to dismantle the wards protecting Solaris. They’ll block you from entering.”
I raised a brow, intrigued despite myself. “You created them?”
She nodded, glancing back at me, her expression solemn. “The Elders… they gave me the spells. I cast them myself, binding them with my blood so that only I could break them.”
A chill ran down my spine at her words.
Binding spells made with blood magic—sacred, dangerous, and deceptively powerful. “And you trusted the Elders’ spells for this?”
Her gaze shifted, and I saw a flicker of doubt in her eyes, a hesitation that spoke volumes. “I thought I could. I thought everything they did was for Solaris.”
My chest tightened at the quiet pain in her voice, the realization that her loyalty had been twisted, manipulated by those she’d trusted most.
And yet, she was still here, standing with me, a force of light and fire against the darkness that had spread through her city.
The wards shimmered faintly in the night air, invisible to most but glaring to me like glass walls. They pressed outward from the Temple like a heartbeat, each pulse whispering:You do not belong here.
Elena stood before them, her palms lifted, her lips moving in soft incantation. Her voice was low, melodic, and yet each syllable thrummed with enough power to shake the marrow in my bones.
I had seen her wield light in combat, seen her burn with the fury of the Phoenix. But this—this was different. This was not fire meant to sear or shield. This was unmaking.
Sweat beaded her brow as she chanted, golden strands of light snaking from her fingertips. They laced into the wards, tugging at knots only she could unravel. Her shoulders tensed with the strain, and I felt a flicker of unease.
She was dismantling her own work. The bindings she had sworn would keep her people safe. I could almost taste the conflict in her magic—hesitation woven with determination.
Her hands trembled. A faint hiss escaped her lips.
“You doubt yourself,” I said, not accusing, simply observing. My shadows curled at her feet, drawn to her power.
Her eyes flashed open, molten gold meeting mine. “Of course I doubt,” she whispered fiercely. “Every stone in this city rests under these wards. I built them with my blood. And now I’m tearing them apart.”
The anguish in her voice struck deeper than any blade. She was not just unraveling spells. She was unraveling faith, duty, the very foundation of her identity.
I took a step closer, my voice rougher than I intended. “Then let them see what you’re made of without chains. You are not their puppet, Elena. You’re more than they ever allowed you to be.”
Her breath caught, and for a heartbeat, the wards wavered violently, golden light flaring. I thought she might falter. But then her chin lifted, her jaw set with iron resolve.
“No more chains,” she said, almost to herself.
With a sharp motion, she thrust her hands forward. The wards convulsed, shrieking without sound.
And then, they simply…faded away.
She sagged slightly, and without thinking, I reached out, steadying her by the arm. Her skin was warm beneath my fingers, her pulse racing. She didn’t pull away.
Her eyes lifted to mine, weary but blazing. “It’s done,” she whispered.
I nodded, but inside I felt something I hadn’t in a century. Awe.
Not for her god. Not for the Elders. Forher.
As we moved deeper into the heart of Solaris, Elena began to point out landmarks, her voice soft but filled with pride as she showed me the city she had fought so hard to protect.
I kept my gaze fixed on her, watching the way her figuremoved through the city she had called home, the place she had protected and served with unwavering devotion.
And now, she was leading me through it, showing me the hidden paths, the winding alleys, her trust a privilege.
The streets of Solaris were unlike any place I had walked before. Even under cover of darkness, the city glowed faintly, its stones kissed by centuries of sunlight. My shadows whispered uneasily across the golden cobblestones, as if they sensed the hostility of this place—the seat of the god who stood in opposition to the one who had cursed me to this half-life.
