Walking through Mouriana’s vortex, I felt reality twist around me, like a beast testing its prey before biting.

As soon as my foot hit solid ground, everything sharpened. It was all wrong. I’d been to the Temple of the Wealdel before, when it was a sacred altar of Gaia’s blessing. It was filled with warm golden light and quiet hymns.

It wasn’t the same place any more. The once-white stone walls were now blackened, cracked, pulsing with veins of dark energy that oozed like festering wounds.

Then there was her. Sitting on the shattered remains of the temple altar, watching me with a grin that sent ice-cold dread down my spine.

She’d shed her mockery of a human form, and the illusion of faerie-like beauty that she’d used to deceive me.

This was her true form.

A nightmare of midnight and hunger, of razor-thin limbs that stretched impossibly long, of tendrils of darkness shifting constantly, like she wasn’t entirely bound to a singular existence. On her forehead, two black horns curl upwards to a sharp point.

I can only describe her eyes as molten pits of crimson, burning without source, voids of pure, insatiable bloodlust.

Her mouth, too wide, too sharp, curved into what might have been a smile, had it not been so fundamentally wrong.

And her wings. Gaia’s teeth, her wings. They stretched so massively that they looked like they could blot out the sky.

She didn’t speak at first. She just watched me, no that wasn’t it. I think she was waiting to see if I’d break before she lifted a finger.

An early test of willpower. My chances of winning were slim, barring a miracle. But I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction.

I smirked and crossed my arms. “Well, you sure got uglier.”

Her laugh was not a sound meant for mortal ears. It was unpleasant, thick, like a chorus of disembodied voices speaking over each other.

“You’re still just as delightfully naive as you ever were,” she purred.

She tilted her head, considering me like one might consider a particularly interesting insect before ripping off its wings.

“Tell me, Celeste,” she said, “do you know what true darkness is?”

Oh, this again.

I rolled my eyes. “Let me guess. “True darkness is not the absence of light, but the presence of fear” or something equally ridiculous?”

Her smile widened. “No.”

Then, she moved. No, moved wasn’t the right word. She manifested.

One second she was on top of the ruined altar, the next she was inches from my face, her presence crashing into me like a tidal wave of unfiltered malice.

My breath seized in my lungs. It was like getting swallowed whole. It was as if every molecule of air was vibrating with a foulness, a wrongness so absolute that my mind couldn’t handle it.

Power wasn’t all this was. This felt like the embodiment of every nightmare ever told. Even though my knees almost buckled, I held my ground.

She leaned in, close enough to feel the chill radiating from her. It was far more than death. It was a curdling, insatiable bloodlust. It was crazy to think I let her in once.

“True darkness,” she whispered, “is the moment you realize there is no one coming to save you.”

I forced myself to breathe, to shake off the impact of her presence, to remind myself that I was not prey.

“That’s funny,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady, even though every fibre of my body wanted me to run. “I was going to say the same thing to you.”

Laughter flickered in her eyes, like a predator deciding how much to play around with its prey before devouring it.

“Oh, little witch,” she cooed, her voice full of indulgence. “I do hope you make this entertaining for me.”

The temple trembled. After that, the ground cracked under me, splitting apart as the first wave of creatures burst through.

This time, it wasn’t shadows or hollow minions like before. These were beasts. Wyverns with serrated wings, their mouths lined with rows of jagged teeth, their eyes burning with the same crimson void as their master.

Hulking creatures crawling from the depths, dripping with black ichor, writhing between solid flesh and mist.

There were no simple spells to banish these demons. They tore through cities, turned battlefields into mass graves before Gaia sealed them away.

And Mouriana had just released them to terrorize me! As I processed the absolute disaster presented before me, a sharp, unnatural crack rippled through the temple.

Behind me, the vortex snapped shut, sounding like a guillotine slamming down on the last chance for escape.

Turning, I watched the last shimmering remnants of the gate dissolve into nothing, leaving me alone in the abyss, staring down the Queen of Darkness and her freshly summoned army of nightmares.

Gracious Gaia! If you can hear me, now is the time to actually do something!

Nothing. Not even a divine whisper. Typical.

I fought the dread, forced my hands not to tremble, forced myself to breathe.

When I looked at Mouriana again, I expected mockery, maybe a taunt, but she just smiled. A slow, knowing smile like she had already won.

“Shall we begin?” she purred.

I felt her voice wrap around me like a silk noose, gentle and precise in its malice.

To her, it was just another game, and I wasn’t even a contender, just a piece she’d already placed where she wanted. That was worse than if she laughed at me.

“You underestimate me,” I said.

Mouriana clicked her tongue, a sound of pure arrogance, like she was dealing with an impatient child.

“I estimate you just right, little Celeste.”

In a ripple of dark energy, a throne appeared on the shattered altar, carved from obsidian and shifting shadow, its flanks lined with thorns that pulsed like veins.

With an almost insulting grace, she slipped onto it, crossing her legs like she had just settled in for an especially boring council meeting.

“You are nowhere near ready to face me,” she said simply. A sigh escaped her lips as she tilted her head. “Yet here we are. You forced this encounter.” She gestured vaguely. “Might as well get it over with, regardless of how underwhelming I anticipate it to be.”

She watched me from her throne of shadows, resting her chin on her palm, with the same level of interest one might give a mildly amusing court jester.

“Might as well get it over with,” she had said. “Regardless of how underwhelming I anticipate it to be.”

Underwhelming. Underwhelming!

Alright, fine.

I’d make sure my first move was anything but. Taking a step back, I summoned the full force of my fire, letting the flames roar around me, golden-white with Gaia’s blessing, flickering so brightly they carved away the darkness pressing down from all sides. The temple groaned, the dark magic inside reacting to my flames.

“The thing is, I didn’t come here to entertain you, Mouriana,” I growled.

Her smile stretched wider, unnatural, sharp, and entirely inhuman.

“Oh, little witch,” she purred, indulgently, “you didn’t come here at all. You were brought here. By me. On my terms.”

I ignored her. It was true, but that was not the issue here. I thrust my hands forward, sending a torrent of celestial fire straight at her, aiming for her face, her throne, her very existence.

For a brief, glorious moment, I thought I had actually done something.

The flames collided with her full force, consuming the space where she sat in a brilliant explosion of light and searing heat.

I felt the ground shake, her energy so overwhelming that cracks spread through the corrupted stone, the temple itself rejecting her as much as I did.

The fire roared, swallowing her whole, and then, just as quickly, it was gone. Snuffed out like a candle in a hurricane. The darkness swallowed it, and left nothing but a few harmless embers dancing at her feet.

And Mouriana was still sitting there unbothered. The only thing that had changed was the way she was now tapping her fingers against the armrest, her head tilting slightly.

“Fire,” she said, mocking contemplation in her voice. “A fine choice. Bold, even.”

Then, she sighed again.

“But predictable.”

And then she manifested again. One second she was lounging on her throne, the next she was inches from my face, again.

My vision blurred, my magic recoiling inside me, every instinct in my body screaming that I was prey and she was a very dangerous predator. She smirked, watching as my body locked up against my will, my fire dimming, Gaia’s blessing sputtering.

“Did you really think,” she murmured, “that a bit of oriental fire would be enough to burn me?”

Her hand shot out, clamping around my throat, lifting me off the ground like I weighed nothing.

I gasped, my hands flying up to claw at her grip, but my fingers met nothing but crushing energy, a force that wasn’t entirely solid, wasn’t entirely tangible, but was absolutely, horrifyingly inescapable.

She leaned in, and I could feel her hunger, her all-consuming desire to destroy.

“You don’t understand yet, do you?” she whispered.

Her fingers tightened, my lungs burning as she tilted her head in mock curiosity, watching the way my power flickered weakly in response to her presence.

“You are not here to win, Celeste.”

She pulled me closer, until the only thing I could see were those glowing crimson eyes, bottomless, endless, merciless.

“You are here to learn what it feels like to lose.”

The ground shattered under me as she slammed me down with effortless brutality, my spine hitting stone with enough force to make the entire temple tremble.

Every nerve in my body screamed, my magic stuttering inside me, the air ripped from my lungs before I could even attempt a defence.

I was not okay.

She was still watching me like she was vaguely disappointed with the quality of my suffering.

“Hmph,” she mused, examining her nails as if she hadn’t just thrown me through the floor. “That didn’t last as long as I hoped.”

Her eyes shifted down to where I was still gasping for breath, my fingers digging into the cracked stone as I tried to push myself up.

She tilted her head. “Want to try again? Maybe this time, you’ll last more than five seconds before I break you.”

Oh, screw this.

I gritted my teeth, forcing my battered limbs to move, flames igniting in my palms, fire licking up my arms as I prepared to throw everything I had left at her”

But before I could, the entire temple erupted in an explosion of heat and light, but it was not from me.

“Get your hands off my sister!”

Camille.

The fire ripped through the temple like a living entity, slamming into Mouriana with enough force to send her skidding back, the darkness around her shrivelling in protest as the flames crashed against it like a tidal wave of pure destruction.

In all the chaos of Mouriana flinging me around like a ragdoll, I had briefly forgotten about the monstrous horde she had summoned.

They had been circling, waiting, like vultures over a fresh kill, watching Mouriana toy with me, letting her have her fun before they got their turn.

The moment Camille burst forth, flames erupting like a second sun, every creature in that temple reacted.

The wyverns, with their serrated wings and rows of gleaming fangs, shrieked, banking hard mid-air, trying to reroute before they flew straight into a firestorm they couldn’t survive.

I watched her back as she stood in front of me. Her form wreathed in flames, her hair was now crimson like a wild inferno around her, and her eyes glowing like embers fed by an endless supply of oxygen.

If Mouriana was the embodiment of hunger, the abyss that devoured everything in its path, then Camille was fire given will and vengeance. I smiled through my pain as Camille defended me. She had always defended me and I desperately hoped Mouriana wouldn’t hurt her because of me.

The first wave of demons lunged for Camille the second she appeared, snarling, talons outstretched, ready to rip her apart, and she had scorched them out of existence before they even touched her.

Her fire had hit them like divine retribution, consuming their foul, twisted bodies with such brutal finality that even their ashes didn’t remain.

And yet, Mouriana hadn’t flinched.

Even as her horde was incinerated, even as her creatures screamed, even as Camille ripped through everything in her path like she had been waiting centuries for this fight.

Mouriana just smiled.

“Well, well,” Mouriana purred, patting out a few stray embers that had dared to land on her robes. “Look who finally decided to crawl out of the grave.”

“Funny,” Camille scoffed, rolling her shoulders as more fire danced at her fingertips, “Have you seen the way you look? Talk about crawling out of the grave.”

Mouriana’s eyes flickered with an almost appreciative glint, like she was genuinely pleased that someone had finally done something interesting.

“You’re the only one of your bloodline who ever made sense to me,” Mouriana admitted. “It’s a shame you had to die before you could realize your full potential.”

“You should’ve made sure I stayed dead,” she said.

And then she attacked.

Flames erupted from her hands, not like mine, but deep red like her hair now, burning hotter, the kind of fire only an Oriental witch born of true destruction could wield. It was the unstoppable rage of an Oriental fire child, power spilling from her every movement, and for the first time, Mouriana had to exert effort to push her back.

But push her back, she did, because even Camille’s rage wasn’t enough.

Mouriana smiled, and with one sweep of her hand, the darkness rushed forward, colliding with Camille’s flames, the impact sending a wave through the temple that nearly tore it apart.

Camille dug her heels in, fighting with everything she had, but Mouriana’s darkness was endless, devouring, eroding, suffocating.

I tried to move, tried to summon what little magic I had left to help, but my limbs felt like lead, my energy was completely gone.

Mouriana grinned down at me, delighted.

“Is this it?” she asked, like she had ordered the finest meal at a royal feast and been served stale bread instead. “Is this truly the best you Le Torneaus have to offer?”

I was still trying to get my damn lungs to work, so unfortunately, I had no witty retort for her. Which was fine, because I was too busy reevaluating my entire life anyway.

Mouriana had crushed me effortlessly, tossed me aside like an afterthought, like I had been a child throwing a tantrum in a battle meant for titans. I was foolish to think I could face her alone.

You should say that to my mother, I thought bitterly.

Because I was fairly certain that if Mother and Camille fought her together, Mouriana would actually have to try for once in her life. Camille snarled, flames bursting brighter, pushing back for one last desperate attempt to overpower her”

And then, the dome cracked open. All three of us froze, our heads snapping upward as light poured down from the temple’s ruined ceiling, slamming into the centre of the altar with the force of a thousand stars.

Mouriana’s darkness screeched, recoiling violently, as the light expanded outward, a force so pure, so untouchable, that even Mouriana had to take a step back.

It was the first time Mouriana’s smile cracked. It wasn’t fear, just a realization, like, ah” I didn’t account for this. Whatever this was.

Then, before I could even process what was happening, I heard it.

The hymns before the chanting, the words that weren’t meant for mortal ears, an ancient melody that curled into my bones like a forgotten memory suddenly waking up.

I blinked, looking around the temple in wonder. Where was that coming from?

“The Oriental Elders,” Camille whispered. “It’s the Inpouring Spell.” She turned to me, her gaze burning. “You must stand on the altar, Celeste. Go!”

I squinted at her.

“Inpouring?” I slurred. I was still very much struggling with the concept of standing right now, never mind walking across the temple to ascend an altar.

Then I saw Mouriana move like lightning, like a shadow given speed, like she had just decided she was done with this nonsense and was going to end me right now.

I barely had time to react, but Camille did.

She matched Mouriana’s speed, moving just as fast, just as ruthless, reaching me a second before Mouriana did. Then she flung me onto the altar like I was a bag of wheat, no hesitation, she just yeeted me directly into inpouring light without so much as a warning.

I landed hard, my entire body protesting violently, and before I could even process my new location, I felt the divine shield locking around me.

The second my body hit the altar, it clicked into place, sealing me inside the spell like a protective dome of pure light.

Safe.

But then I heard Camille choke on a breath.

I whipped around just in time to see Mouriana’s hand wrapped around Camille’s throat, holding her off the ground like she weighed nothing.

My stomach dropped.

“Camille!”