You draw the blade. It feels heavier than before.

Thornwen doesn’t move. She only smiles – a small, secret smile that makes something cold settle in your stomach.

“Do you know why I helped Seraphine create the gem, Varek? It wasn’t for unity. It wasn’t for Eldermoor.” She raises her hand, and the purple light of the distant gem pulses in response, visible even here through the canopy. “It was for this moment. For what comes after.”

“The gem will remember what you’ve done. It will hold the truth until the right vessel comes to claim it. A child born of its light. A child who will see through your mask of glory and know the monster beneath.”

She closes her eyes.

“Kill me, Varek. Add my soul to your collection. Another sacrifice in your precious ritual. But know this – every soul you take brings the prophecy closer. Every life you consume feeds the very light that will expose you. You’ll have your immortality. But one day, that child will come for you. And all your power won’t save you from the truth.”