The chamber screamed.
It wasn't a sound made by lungs or mouths—it was the shriek of power long sealed, now ripped open by ancient recognition.
The creature before them wasn't merely an intruder.
It was the oathkeeper of the First Pact.
A guardian forged in the final days of the forgotten empire—neither dead nor alive, bound to the blood of every rightful heir.
And Lyrielle had awakened it.
"Don't move," she whispered, standing before Kaelen and Elaine like a girl carved from myth.
But Kaelen did.
He stepped beside her, blade in hand, eyes locked on the monster—eight feet tall, its form constantly shifting between smoke, bone, and burned armor.
"What does it want?"
Lyrielle's lips barely moved. "To test me. To test us. It was made to destroy any who break the chain of succession. Even if the chain itself was forged in lies."
Elaine raised her blade. "So what happens if we fail?"
> "It will erase us from the throne's memory."
The creature lunged.
Kaelen met it mid-strike, the clash echoing like metal colliding with time itself. Sparks flew. A second blade swung from the shadow's side—but Elaine intercepted it with a cry, her sword catching fire on contact.
Behind them, Lyrielle stood perfectly still, arms outstretched, eyes glowing gold.
She began to speak—not in any language they knew, but in royal runes, carved into the very roots of the world.
> "I call the flame that never bows—
The ash that remembers truth—
The blood that was denied its name."
Her voice deepened, and the shard of her crown at her throat began to float, spinning slowly.
Kaelen was thrown across the chamber.
The creature advanced—but froze.
Not because of fear. Because of memory.
Lyrielle's runes flared across the floor, revealing a second crown beneath the chamber. Not gold. Not silver. But black as obsidian, shaped with jagged points—unfinished, yet terrifying in its beauty.
> "This was meant for me," she whispered. "And they broke it."
The creature bowed its head.
But only for a second.
Then—its body shattered into thousands of ember-shards, and reformed behind her.
It struck.
Elaine screamed, but Kaelen moved faster.
Steel met shadow again—this time, Kaelen's blade turned silver, ignited by the symbols now carved into his skin from Lyrielle's spell.
> "You're marked," she said, astonished. "You weren't supposed to—"
"I don't care," Kaelen growled. "We either fight together, or we die alone."
They fought.
Three against one.
But it felt like time itself fought back.
The chamber cracked. The vault pulsed.
Lyrielle finally placed her hand upon the black crown—and the moment she did, the creature howled in agony.
> "The pact is broken!" it cried.
"No," she replied, eyes full of flame.
> "The pact is reborn."