The silence between Amara and Lucien didn't break — it split.
He moved like a shadow, always a step behind her now. Close enough to protect, but never to touch. The Blade of Ruhaen never left her side. It didn't burn. It watched.
On the sixth morning after Vaelryn's visit, a raven arrived.
Its eyes were silver. Spiral-etched.
It dropped a scroll at Amara's feet and vanished into smoke.
Lucien picked it up.
His hands shook.
"It's from Corthan," he said.
Amara's stomach turned.
He read aloud:
"You broke the world.Now come see what you've invited in."
"The old gods have answered."
Attached was a location:Eryndor Keep — a dead fortress sealed for 500 years.
A final line:
Bring the Blade. Or bring a shovel."
They arrived by dusk.
Madalena met them there — her face drawn, eyes hollow. She held up a burned scrap of cloth.
Amara recognized the sigil instantly.
Madalena's spy network. Gone.
"I told you," Madalena said, "they weren't rebuilding the Spiral."
"They're evolving it."
Inside the Keep, the walls hummed with something older than runes. The stone was warm. The torches lit themselves.
And in the center chamber—stood Corthan.
Alive. Smiling.
He wasn't alone.
Behind him stood six others.
Lycans.
But not like Lucien.
These were wrong. Eyes too pale. Teeth too long. Movements too still.They were enhanced.
Corthan stepped forward, arms wide.
"Welcome, Amara. You brought the Blade."
Amara held it high. "Try taking it."
"I don't need to," he said. "Because one of you already gave it to me."
Lucien stiffened.
Amara turned.
Madalena stepped back, eyes wide. "No."
Lucien's eyes were locked on one of the enhanced lycans.
A woman.
She stepped forward.
Calia.
Alive. Changed.
No longer bound to Spiral.
Now fused with something worse.
Amara's blood turned to ice. "I saw you die."
Calia smiled. "You did. And then you woke something older. And it woke me."
She lifted her hand — and the air warped.
Lucien dropped to his knees.
The sigil on his chest began to burn.
Calia's voice was gentle.
"You thought it was a bond. It was a leash."
Amara screamed and rushed forward—
And Corthan caught her, dragging her back with inhuman speed.
"Enough," he hissed.
"Make your choice, Flame Queen."
He pointed at the Blade.
"Give it to me… or Lucien dies here."
Amara's pulse surged.
She looked at Lucien.
Then at Calia.
Then at the Blade — glowing, humming, hungry.
She raised it—
And drove it into the ground.
A pulse exploded outward, shattering the stone floor, knocking Calia back.
Lucien collapsed.
And Amara's eyes burned with gold fire.
"You want a war?" she said.
"You just got it."