The Blade of Binding hummed in Dain’s grip, its golden runes pulsing like a second heartbeat. The valley was whole, the land healed, the void sealed, the fracture in time mended, but the air still carried the weight of something unfinished. The villagers stood in a loose circle around him, their weapons lowered, their faces reflecting the same question: What now?The forest was silent, the standing stones crumbled to dust, and the sky above them a clear, endless blue. But the Blade’s song had changed. It no longer sang of endings. It sang of beginnings. And in its melody, Dain heard the truth he’d missed:The King wasn’t dead.A cold wind swept through the valley, carrying the scent of iron and old blood. The villagers shivered, their breaths misting in the suddenly frigid air. Serra’s sword flared blue, its flame flickering like a dying candle. "Dain," she said, her voice tight. "The Blade, it’s reacting to something."Dain didn’t need to look. He felt it. The Blade of Binding burned

The creatures moved like liquid shadow, their hollow eyes reflecting nothing but hunger. For every one that fell to the villagers' weapons, three more clawed their way from the widening door.The air grew thick with the scent of decay and something older, the smell of time itself unwinding. Dain's arms burned with fatigue as the Blade of Binding carved through another failed Heir.The golden runes along its edge flared with each strike, but the light was dimming, weakening with each creature it shattered."We can't hold them!" Garrick shouted, his hammer crushing the skull of a skeletal figure only for it to reform, bones knitting back together in impossible patterns. "There are too many!"Serra fought at Dain's back, her sword's blue-silver flame leaving trails of light in the darkness. "The door," she gasped between strikes. "We need to seal the door!"The King stood apart from the battle, his wolf helm tilted in what might have been amusement. "The door cannot be closed, knight. No

The streets of Sol'Kareth churned with panic as Dain and his companions raced toward the Obsidian Spire. Buildings of black stone loomed on either side, their windows flickering with frantic movement as citizens barricaded themselves inside."The Voidscar is spreading faster than it should," Veyla called over her shoulder, her gray robes billowing as she led them through the chaos. "Something's feeding it.""Or someone," Serra replied, her hand never leaving her sword hilt.Taren vaulted over an abandoned cart, landing lightly beside Dain. "Cheerful thought. Any other good news?""The Oracle will have answers," Veyla insisted, turning down a narrow alley that cut between towering structures. "She's been preparing for this."Garrick snorted, his hammer bouncing against his back as he ran. "Preparing how? By building a bigger Spire?""By gathering people like you," Veyla shot back. "Those touched by the Forge."They emerged into a vast plaza at the base of the Obsidian Spire. The black

Silver light bathed the spiral staircase as Dain led the descent, each step taking them deeper beneath the Obsidian Spire. The air grew warmer, charged with an energy that made the mark on his palms pulse in response."How far down does this go?" Taren asked, his voice echoing against the obsidian walls."To the heart of Sol'Kareth," Veyla replied, her amber eyes glowing in the silver light. "The city was built around the Wyrm's prison, not the other way around."Serra kept her sword drawn, blue flame casting eerie shadows. "And the Oracle has just been watching over a dragon all this time?""Communing with her," Veyla corrected. "The Wyrm dreams, and in those dreams are secrets of the Forge and Void."Garrick snorted, his hammer slung across his back. "Convenient that these secrets always seem to benefit whoever's interpreting them.""The Oracle believes in balance," Veyla insisted. "Unlike the Order or the King.""And you?" Dain asked, glancing back at the sorceress. "What do you be

Sunlight streamed through the obsidian windows of the Spire, illuminating the approaching column of silver-armored knights.Their banners snapped in the wind, the emblem of the Silver Flame gleaming against blue fabric."The Order wastes no time," Elara observed, her transformed body casting an elongated shadow across the chamber floor. "Valen has reached them already."Serra moved to the window, her expression grim. "That's the Third Legion. Elite warriors, led by Commander Aldric himself.""Your former commander?" Dain asked, joining her."My mentor," Serra replied softly. "A good man who believes in the Order's stated purpose."The Oracle approached, her draconic features more pronounced in the daylight. "Good men can serve evil purposes when kept ignorant.""Which is why we need to tell him the truth," Serra insisted, turning to face Elara. "Let me speak to Aldric. He'll listen."Taren laughed sharply. "To a knight who defected? While standing next to a dragon? That'll go well.""