The Spire narrowed as we climbed, its walls closing in like a throat swallowing us whole. The air grew colder, denser, and the hum of the shard in my pocket became a constant, thrumming presence. Every step felt heavier, my legs aching as we ascended the uneven staircase spiraling toward the heart of the Spire.

  Aeryn walked just ahead, her shadows pressed tightly to the walls, their faint glow casting jagged reflections that danced in time with the shard’s pulsing light. She’d been silent since the encounter with the Weaver, her focus so sharp it felt like she might shatter under its weight.

  Lyra followed a step behind me, her presence like a constant itch at the back of my mind. Her usual bravado had dimmed, replaced by something colder—something calculating.

  It wasn’t just the climb or the looming danger that made the air between us thick and stifling. The Weaver’s words lingered, echoing in my mind with every pulse of the shard.

  “You broke it.”

  “This is your legacy.”

  We reached a small landing halfway up the Spire, its walls etched with faintly glowing runes that pulsed in time with the shard. Aeryn raised her hand, her shadows weaving into a barrier at the edges of the platform.

  “We rest here,” she said curtly. “Not long.”

  “Fantastic,” Lyra muttered, dropping to sit on one of the crumbling stones. “Because I love resting in a collapsing death trap.”

  Aeryn ignored her, her focus shifting to the runes. She traced her fingers over them, her shadows curling along the lines as if trying to read them.

  I sat against the opposite wall, trying to catch my breath. The shard pulsed steadily in my pocket, its heat a constant reminder of the weight I carried.

  “You look like hell,” Lyra said, tossing me a canteen.

  “Thanks,” I muttered, taking a drink.

  She leaned back, studying me with a faint smirk. “You holding it together, or should we start writing your eulogy?”

  “Could use some better material than ‘he tried his best,’” I shot back.

  Lyra chuckled, her dark eyes gleaming. “You’re fine, Vale. At least you’ve stopped looking like a terrified puppy.”

  Aeryn turned abruptly, her shadows flaring faintly. “This isn’t a joke, Lyra.”

  Lyra’s smirk faded as she met Aeryn’s glare. “You think I don’t know that?”

  “You don’t act like it,” Aeryn snapped.

  The tension between them was suffocating, their words sharp enough to cut through the thick air of the Spire.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “Enough,” I said, standing. “We don’t have time for this.”

  Lyra scoffed, leaning back against the wall. “She’s just mad because she’s not the only one looking out for you anymore.”

  Aeryn’s shadows coiled tighter, her violet eyes narrowing. “You’re here because you’re convenient, Lyra. Don’t mistake that for being useful.”

  “And you’re here because you feel guilty,” Lyra shot back, her tone icy. “Or did you forget you’ve been lying to him this whole time?”

  “That’s enough!” I shouted, the shard in my pocket flaring briefly with heat. Both of them fell silent, though the tension between them didn’t ease.

  Aeryn turned away, her shoulders stiff. For a moment, I thought she’d ignore the accusation. But then she spoke, her voice low and steady.

  “She’s right.”

  The admission hit harder than I expected. “What?”

  “I lied to you,” she said, still facing the wall. “Not about everything. But about enough.”

  She turned to face me, her violet eyes filled with something raw—regret, maybe. “I knew what you did, but it all happened so fast I didn’t understand why you did it.”

  “Then why help me?” I asked, my voice tight.

  “Because I saw what the Rift did to my world,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “And because I didn’t want to watch it happen to you.”

  Her words hung in the air, the weight of them settling over me like a shroud.

  “I don’t care about your mistakes,” she said, stepping closer. “What matters is what you do now.”

  Before I could respond, the shard pulsed violently, its light flaring brighter than before. The runes on the walls began to shift, glowing in patterns that made my head spin.

  “They know we’re here,” Aeryn said sharply, her shadows weaving into defensive barriers.

  “Who’s ‘they’?” Lyra asked, already on her feet with daggers in hand.

  “Must be more Guardians,” Aeryn said. “If we’re going to reach the core, we’ll have to go through them.”

  As if on cue, a low rumble echoed through the chamber, and a massive, humanoid figure stepped out of the wall. Its body was made of shimmering black stone, its eyes glowing with the same golden light as the Weaver’s mask.

  “Fantastic,” Lyra muttered. “Another walking statue of doom.”

  The Guardian lunged forward, its massive arm swinging toward us in a wide arc. Aeryn’s shadows surged forward, wrapping around its arm and holding it back just long enough for Lyra to dart in with her daggers.

  Her strikes landed, but the creature didn’t falter. It swatted her away, sending her skidding across the floor.

  “Sion!” Aeryn shouted, her voice sharp. “Focus the shard!”

  I raised the shard, its light flaring as I shaped its energy into a blade. The whispers in my mind rose to a crescendo, urging me to act.

  The Guardian turned toward me, its glowing eyes locking onto the shard. It lunged, and I barely managed to dodge its massive fist.

  “You need to disrupt its core!” Aeryn called, her shadows darting around the Guardian in a flurry of strikes.

  “I’m open to suggestions!” I shouted back, gripping the shard tightly.

  The creature’s chest glowed faintly, its core exposed just long enough for me to see the shifting threads within.

  I focused on the shard, the blade grew longer as it shimmered, crackling with blue light as I lunged forward.

  The Guardian swung at me again, but Aeryn’s shadows wrapped around its arm, pulling it off course. Lyra darted in from the side, her daggers slicing at its legs, forcing it to stumble.

  “Now, Sion!” Aeryn shouted.

  I drove the blade into its chest, the light from the shard cutting through the threads within. The Guardian let out a low, guttural sound as its body began to dissolve, the glowing threads unraveling into nothing.

  The silence that followed was deafening.

  I dropped to my knees, the shard’s glow dimming as the energy left my body. Aeryn knelt beside me, her expression unreadable.

  “You did it,” she said quietly.

  “Barely,” I muttered, my breath ragged.

  Lyra approached, brushing dust from her coat. “Well, that was fun. Let’s not do it again anytime soon.”

  Aeryn shot her a glare, but said nothing.

  “We’re getting closer,” she said, helping me to my feet. “The Core of the Spire is just ahead.”

  I nodded, slipping the shard back into my pocket. The whispers had quieted, but their weight lingered.

  As we pressed on, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the hardest choices were still to come.