A Deal With Shadows

The blade's cold kiss lingered at Liora's throat, the sharp point pressing just enough to remind her of how fragile life could be.

She didn't dare move.Not yet.

The silver-haired woman circled her, slow and deliberate, studying her like a curious predator might inspect a wounded animal before deciding whether to feast or walk away.

"You're different," the woman finally said, voice a low hum that seemed to vibrate against the Sanctuary's living walls. "You're not pure. You're not corrupt either. You are... unfinished."

Liora tasted blood at the back of her throat.Good. It meant she was still alive. Still fighting.

"I'm enough," Liora rasped.

The woman laughed — not cruelly, but almost pityingly. She sheathed the dagger at her hip in one smooth motion, and Liora exhaled slowly, resisting the urge to collapse.

"Names have power," the woman mused. "But I'll offer you mine anyway. You may call me Seris."

Liora steadied herself against the nearest pillar, pushing through the blinding ache in her limbs.Every instinct screamed at her to run, to fight, to do something.But the Sanctuary wasn't just any battlefield.Here, the wrong move could shatter her soul.

And Seris... Seris didn't feel like someone she could beat with brute force.

Not yet.

"What do you want?" Liora asked, her voice low.

Seris smiled, a slow, dangerous thing.

"Nothing you aren't already desperate enough to offer."

She gestured toward the mask resting atop the obsidian dais.

The relic pulsed again — deeper this time — almost as if it was breathing with her.

Liora took a cautious step forward.She didn't need Seris to spell it out.The mask was an artifact of old power — Veil-tier — but layered in something even more ancient.

Alric had whispered about things like this once, long ago, when she was just a child hidden away from the world.

Relics that could unmake fate.

But always at a price.

Always.

"The mask will let you bind the creatures that pursue you," Seris said softly, reading her thoughts like an open book. "It will give you dominion over them. Turn their hunger to your service."

It sounded... almost too easy.

Liora didn't trust easy.

"And the cost?" she asked warily.

Seris tilted her head, and for the first time, something dark and old flickered in her expression.

"Your past. Your future. Perhaps your soul. Perhaps... all of them."

Liora laughed bitterly.

"That's vague."

"That's magic."

They stood in silence, the weight of the decision pressing down like a storm about to break.

In the end, it wasn't really a choice.

Liora had come too far to falter now.

The corruption outside wouldn't wait for her.Mavrek wouldn't pause his games.

And somewhere, beneath the ruins and betrayal, she still had a reason to fight.

She still had people she refused to lose.

Without another word, Liora stepped onto the dais.

The moment her fingers brushed the mask, agony ripped through her.

Every memory — every choice — every scar — was pulled from her, flayed raw, and laid bare before the Sanctuary.

She saw her mother's face again, the lines of fear and sorrow etched deep.She heard her father's final command before the betrayal that shattered their bloodline.She felt the ache of every friend she had failed to save.The guilt.The rage.The hollow victories.

All of it.

Seris watched, unmoved, as Liora's knees buckled.

But Liora didn't let go.

She gripped the mask like a lifeline, even as it shattered what little humanity she had left.

And then — the world inverted.

When the storm passed, Liora rose.

Changed.

Not fully human anymore.

Not fully Veilborn either.

Something new.Something the world had no name for yet.

The mask was gone, fused into the fabric of her soul, a second skin wrapped around her magic.

Her body hummed with latent power, her blood singing with barely-contained forces.

And when she reached out instinctively, she could feel them.

The corrupted ones.

Still clawing at the edges of the Sanctuary.

Waiting.

Hungry.

But now... tethered to her will.

A small, savage smile curved Liora's lips.

Mine.

Seris stepped forward, offering a slow, deliberate nod.

"You've made your choice," she said. "Now you must live with it."

"Or die because of it," Liora muttered, half to herself.

Seris's lips twitched into a faint smirk.

"There's always that."

They didn't have long to savor the moment.

The ground shuddered violently, and a deep rumble split the Sanctuary.

Something else had sensed the shift.Something ancient.Something worse than the corrupted Veilborn.

Seris's face hardened.

"You've drawn attention, child. Attention you are not ready for."

"Then I guess I'll have to get ready fast," Liora said grimly.

Without another word, she summoned a portal — smoother, stronger than anything she had ever managed before.

And this time, when she stepped through, she didn't just escape.

She commanded.

Outside, the battlefield was no longer a battlefield.

It was a slaughter.

Bodies — friend and foe alike — littered the scorched ground.

And standing in the middle of it all was Mavrek.

Waiting.

Smiling.

"Welcome back, Liora," he said, voice dripping with false warmth. "I've been waiting for you."

The corrupted Veilborn snapped to attention behind her, their hollow eyes burning with borrowed loyalty.

Liora squared her shoulders.

"Good," she said coldly. "Because I'm done running."

The storm was about to break.

And this time, it would show no mercy.