The air in the ruined tomb was thick with the scent of charred bone and lingering magic. Elara groaned as she pushed herself up from the debris, her silver-streaked hair caked with dust. Her entire body ached—not just from the fall, but from the unnatural fusion of her magic with his.
Kael was already on his feet, his black coat torn at the edges, his expression unreadable. The cursed amulet pulsed between them, its chain now embedded into their skin like veins of molten silver.
"You're alive," he said flatly. "Disappointing."
Elara bared her teeth. "I'd say the same, but I've always known cockroaches are hard to kill."
A flicker of irritation crossed his face before he turned away, scanning the collapsed chamber. The skeletons were gone, reduced to ash, but the walls still whispered in that same eerie tongue.
"Two souls, one fate…"
Elara shuddered. "We need to get out before this place decides to bury us for good."
Kael didn't answer. Instead, he reached out abruptly, gripping her wrist. Before she could react, he dragged his thumb over the mark left by the amulet—and pain lanced up her arm like a blade.
She gasped. "What the hell—?"
"Quiet." His voice was low, dangerous. "It's not just binding us. It's feeding."
The realization hit her like ice water.
The amulet wasn't just a curse. It was alive.
And it was hungry.
Every time they used magic, it siphoned a piece of their energy—their essence—leaving behind a hollow, gnawing sensation. Worse, the more they resisted each other, the more it consumed.
Elara yanked her hand back. "So what? We just hold hands and skip through the ruins until it's happy?"
Kael's smile was razor-thin. "If you'd prefer to die here, by all means, keep fighting me."
A tense silence stretched between them. Then, reluctantly, Elara extended her hand.
Kael took it.
The moment their skin touched, the whispers in the walls screamed.
The ground trembled. Stone shifted, revealing a hidden passage—one that hadn't been there before.
"Charming," Elara muttered. "A dungeon that rearranges itself."
Kael didn't release her hand as they stepped forward. The passage narrowed, forcing them to walk shoulder-to-shoulder. The air grew colder, the walls slick with something that glistened like blood but smelled of rust and salt.
Then, the first trap struck.
A blade shot from the darkness, aimed straight for Elara's throat. Kael moved faster, his free hand summoning a whip of blackfire to deflect it—but the moment he used magic, the amulet burned.
Elara cried out as the pain ripped through her too.
Kael's grip tightened. "Don't let go."
She didn't.
The corridor opened into a circular chamber. At its center stood a mirror—not glass, but liquid shadow, its surface rippling like a pool of ink.
Elara tensed. "That's not natural."
"No," Kael agreed grimly. "It's a Void Mirror. It doesn't show reflections. It steals them."
Before she could ask what that meant, the mirror lunged.
Tendrils of darkness lashed out, wrapping around her ankles, her wrists, dragging her toward the abyss within. She thrashed, but the more she fought, the faster it pulled.
Kael's voice cut through the panic. "Elara! Look at me!"
She did.
And the mirror shuddered.
For a heartbeat, the darkness recoiled—as if repelled by the sheer intensity of their locked gazes.
Kael didn't hesitate. He raised their joined hands and slammed them against the mirror's surface.
The world exploded in silver and black.
When the light faded, they were no longer in the tomb.
They stood in a memory.
His memory.
A younger Kael, no more than fourteen, knelt in a circle of blood. Men in black robes chanted as a shard of darkness—the same substance as the mirror—was driven into his chest.
Elara's breath caught. This was how he became the vessel.
How he was broken.
Then the memory twisted, and she saw something worse: a boy who fought back. Who screamed curses even as the darkness swallowed him.
Who never surrendered.
The vision shattered. They were back in the chamber, the mirror now silent, its surface cracked.
Kael's voice was raw. "You saw nothing."
Elara met his gaze. "I saw everything."
The amulet between them pulsed—not with pain, but something far more dangerous.
Understanding.