The seal was completely gone.
The gatekeeper of the stories, deeply invested in what was happening, felt the absence of it like a wound in the fabric of her soul... the chains her father had carved into her essence, the bindings meant to keep Pyronox caged, all of it dissolved. Nothing held the dragon back now. Nothing prevented him from doing what gods did when given mortal form.
Take over. Consume. Use.
Eris knew it too.
She remembered her first death with crystal clarity... the moment Pyronox had seized control, her consciousness shoved aside like a child pushed from a throne.
She'd been a passenger in her own body, screaming silently as divine fire poured from her hands, as her voice spoke words she didn't choose, as Caelen drove his sword through her heart while the dragon laughed.
It would happen again. Had to happen again. This was the price of channeling godhood without restraint.
