Lucien hadn't stopped walking.
The shadowfire inside him pulsed now — not like magic, but like a heartbeat. It didn't hurt. It didn't burn. It whispered.
"You don't belong to her."
He stood beneath a cliff where no stars touched the sky. The reflection from the frozen lake rose again — darker, sharper, wearing a crown of thorns woven from bone.
The figure spoke:
"You were never meant to be the protector. You were made to rule."
Lucien stared at him. "You're just a fragment. A lie."
The crownless reflection raised a hand.
And the world bent.
Lucien saw himself — commanding armies, wearing black fire like armor, Amara at his side... but distant. Hollow. Bound.
Then another flicker.
Amara, crowned in flame, alone.
Lucien dead at her feet.
The reflection's voice came like a blade:
"If she takes the Blade's path, you don't survive her reign."
Lucien didn't speak.But his hands shook.
Back at the cliff, Vaelryn traced her fingers along the Blade of Ruhaen's jagged edge, unbothered by its silent threat.
"You think you're choosing destiny," she said to Amara.
Amara narrowed her eyes. "I'm choosing survival."
Vaelryn turned toward her. "You're choosing power. Let's not pretend."
Amara lifted her chin. "If I don't take it, I lose everything."
"Not everything," Vaelryn said. "You lose him."
Amara stepped forward. "You know what this Blade is. What it wants. Tell me what it's trying to make me do."
Vaelryn tilted her head.
"It wants to give you a world with no weakness. A realm where you don't bleed, where you don't kneel, where no man ever dies for you again."
"And what's the cost?"
Vaelryn stepped aside.
The Blade pulsed.
And Amara's vision snapped into white—
She stood at the center of a throne room made of black stone and firelight.
Dozens bowed before her — warriors, mages, kings.
At her side stood no one.
Lucien's name was etched into the wall behind her:"Here Lies the Gate."
She dropped to her knees, gasping.
Back in the real world, she clutched her chest.
Vaelryn was already watching her.
"That's your victory," the woman said calmly. "That's what winning looks like."
Amara stood slowly. Rage in her throat. Grief in her veins.
"I won't accept that."
Vaelryn shrugged. "Then change it. But don't pretend fate hasn't made its offer."
Lucien returned just before dawn.
His eyes were darker. His jaw set.
He looked at Amara across the fire.
"I saw what happens if I keep following you."
Amara's voice was quiet. "So did I."
They didn't touch. Didn't kiss. Didn't cry.
They just sat there.
Together.
But the air between them now?It was filled with the weight of the future.
And the Blade pulsed once more —not with fire.With decision.