Duchess Isolde's POV
The air was thick with smoke and ruin. The ritual chamber once glowing with divine light now lay in shambles, every sigil cracked, every rune bleeding shadow. The scent of burnt incense and blood clung to my throat.
I staggered backward, clutching the altar for balance as a searing pain lanced through my head. Warmth trickled from my nose, blood.
My vision flickered, the edges blurring like melted glass. The Venorix vial had shattered across the floor, its contents hissing as they touched the cursed stone.
"No…" My voice trembled as I knelt, fingers brushing through the residue of the elixir. The liquid pulsed faintly, still alive, still humming with power but wild, untamed.
The goddess had left me.
I could feel it.
Seraphyne's presence once an intoxicating warmth at the edge of my mind was now gone. Or worse, silent. Watching.
"Goddess," I rasped, clutching the jagged edges of the altar. "Answer me."
Nothing.
