The silver light of the twin moons spilled over the jagged cliffs of Valereth's Edge, bathing the landscape in a glow that felt otherworldly. The higher moon, Lunastra, was nearly full, but it was the smaller, red-streaked orb known as Virellon that captivated the eye tonight—its hue deeper than ever, as though bleeding into the night.
Elara stood at the cliff's edge, wind teasing her cloak and hair, the parchment in her hand trembling slightly—not from the breeze, but from the weight of what was written on it.
The Oath of Binding.
Beside her, Kael watched the horizon, silent but tense. His usually sharp posture had softened, as if burdened by invisible chains.
"I never asked you to follow me this far," Elara said, folding the parchment. "You could still walk away, Kael."
His lips curved, not into a smile, but something sharper. "I wasn't following you. I was chasing my own answers. But now… I think our answers are the same."
Their gazes locked, the cliff's silence thick between them. Far below, the sea crashed violently, roaring with the fury of a world in flux.
Elara slowly unrolled the scroll again. "If we sign this, the pact cannot be undone. Not without consequence. It binds more than our powers—it binds our souls."
Kael stepped forward. "Then let's not waste time."
He held out his palm, a small dagger appearing with a shimmer of summoned steel. Without hesitation, he slashed a shallow cut across it. Crimson droplets bloomed.
Elara's breath caught. "You're certain?"
"I've never been more certain of anything."
She followed suit, slicing her palm and allowing her blood to drip onto the parchment, mingling with his. As their combined blood touched the ancient ink, the scroll ignited—not with fire, but with arcane light that shimmered gold, red, and violet.
Words appeared, written in a forgotten dialect. The Binding Oath was no longer a mere ritual—it had acknowledged them.
"I—Elara, child of Terra—swear to fight for truth, protect those bound by injustice, and seek the light even within darkness."
Kael followed. "I—Kael, of no kingdom, of no name—swear to stand beside her, against the tides of fate, to the end of all paths."
The scroll burned into ash between them. Yet the light remained, glowing faintly in their eyes before fading into their skin—marking them.
It was done.
Suddenly, the cliff trembled beneath them. From the shadows of the cliffside, a rift split open—much like the one that had first brought Elara to this world. But this one was different. Controlled. Pulsing with intent.
Kael's voice was low. "They know. The Arkanis Council… they felt the oath."
Before Elara could answer, the rift widened, and a cloaked figure stepped through. His presence was suffocating, as if the very air bent to his will. His mask was obsidian, featureless save for a narrow slit where light shimmered like the surface of oil.
"Elara," the figure intoned. "You were not meant to survive the portal."
Her instincts flared, but Kael had already moved in front of her, blades out, stance ready.
The masked man tilted his head. "Ah… Kael. The Forgotten Blade. You've made yourself a nuisance again."
"You're outnumbered," Kael growled.
The man laughed—a quiet, disconcerting sound. "Am I?"
From the rift stepped two more figures. One was a woman cloaked in wind and ice, the other a hulk of a man with stone-like skin and burning fists. Each radiated immense power.
Elara stepped forward, her voice steady despite the fear crawling in her chest. "We took the Oath. You can't touch us without violating the Accord."
"True," the masked man said, "but the Accord only binds us in name. Not in spirit."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "Then let's make this physical."
He dashed forward, a blur of motion. His twin blades clashed against the woman of ice, sparks and frost exploding from the impact. Elara surged into motion, the magic she had long struggled to command now flowing freely. She summoned arcs of lightning that leapt from her fingers and coiled toward the stone-skinned brute.
But the masked man didn't move. He simply watched.
Elara didn't care. She ducked beneath a stone-slam, rolled sideways, and sent a wave of pure energy that forced the brute back.
"Kael, we need to break their formation!" she shouted.
He didn't answer—too locked in combat. Elara reached deep, summoning her core light. It pulsed in her chest, hot and painful.
The energy built until she couldn't contain it—and she didn't. With a cry, she released it in all directions.
A wave of raw force rippled across the battlefield, slamming all three opponents backward. The rift behind them shimmered and destabilized.
Kael landed beside her, blood trickling from a cut above his brow. "We need to leave. Now."
"But the rift—"
"I can hold it. You go."
Elara stared at him. "I'm not leaving you."
His voice was gentle. "If they capture you, everything ends. This world, and maybe even yours."
Tears stung her eyes, but she nodded. Without another word, she ran to the rift and channeled her will into it, warping the exit.
As she stepped through, she turned just long enough to see Kael driving his blades into the brute's chest. The masked man raised his hand to cast something at him—
And then the world vanished.
Elara tumbled through the rift, landing in a field of glowing blue grass under a sky that shimmered with twin suns.
But Kael wasn't behind her.