Night fell upon Aurion City, shrouding the skies in an unnatural darkness. The moon was hidden behind clouds as if the heavens themselves feared to look down upon what stirred beneath.
Arka stood alone on the balcony of his chamber. The evening wind carried the faint scent of rain and blood. When he peeled off the bandage around his arm, the mark beneath it was no longer still.
The black sigil pulsed faintly, veins of shadow crawling toward his shoulder, as if it was alive. With every heartbeat, a whisper crept into his mind.
"Let me in… you and I are one…"
He clenched his jaw, tasting blood on his lips. The urge to answer was almost unbearable.
The door creaked open. Lysander entered, his expression calm but eyes sharp. In his hand, he held a slender staff tipped with a shard of black crystal.
"Still fighting it?" he asked quietly.
Arka's voice was strained. "It hasn't stopped since the duel. Sometimes I can silence it. Sometimes… I can't tell if it's me or the voice."
Lysander drew a glowing circle on the floor using the staff, runes flaring faintly blue. "This will keep it from reaching you for now. I've called for someone. A witch from the southern border. Her name is Shirra."
Arka frowned. "You trust her?"
"I don't." Lysander's tone was firm. "But she's the only one who's ever written about the Core of the Abyss. If that mark is truly connected to it, she's our only hope."
Arka looked out at the storm-dark sky. "And if she fails?"
Lysander's gaze hardened. "Then I'll sever your energy channels before it consumes you."
The silence that followed was heavy filled with the kind of truth neither wanted to face.
Then the air shifted. The warding circle flickered. The whisper became a shriek in Arka's mind. He fell to his knees, clutching his head, his eyes flashing black.
Lysander slammed his staff down, reinforcing the runes. But it was too strong.
"Open the gate…" the voice echoed, deeper now, ancient.
Black fire coiled around Arka's arms, tearing through the protective circle.
"Arka! Control it!" Lysander shouted.
Then suddenly everything stilled.
A new voice drifted through the air, calm yet cutting through the chaos.
"Fascinating," it said softly. "He hasn't been completely devoured by the Abyss. That means he can still be saved."
They turned. A woman stood at the doorway long white hair flowing, her black robe stitched with silver crescents. Her eyes shimmered like molten silver, yet behind them lingered the abyss itself.
Lysander exhaled. "Shirra."
She smiled faintly. "You called, and I came. But remember the Abyss always demands a price. And most often, that price is one's soul."
Arka met her gaze, unflinching. "If that's what it takes to remain myself… then I'll pay it."
Shirra raised her hand. "Then prepare yourself, child of the stars. Tonight, you will gaze into the Abyss… and the Abyss will gaze back."
The sky rumbled above, a violet bolt splitting the clouds. For an instant, the moon resembled a colossal eye opening upon the world watching.
And in that moment, the sealing ritual began.