The sun barely touched the horizon when they reached the outskirts of Ravencross—the final settlement before Alsira's outer sanctum. Its once-bustling gates now stood half-buried in rubble, torn open by something massive. The soul-wards above the walls flickered weakly, like candles clinging to breath in a storm.
Emilia leaned on her staff, her steps slow. "This place looks like it was hit recently."
Liaen scanned the broken defenses. "More like something clawed its way out."
Elira drifted toward the gates, her form flickering as though struggling to remain in this world.
"This gate…" she murmured. "I've seen it before. In a vision. Right before I died."
Asher turned sharply. "What do you mean?"
But Elira didn't answer. She was somewhere else now—lost in memory.
They passed through the shattered gate with caution, weapons drawn. Ravencross had become a ghost town. Doors dangled from hinges, soul-crystals shattered in the streets. Blood had dried into cryptic runes on the stones.
"It's not just destruction," Emilia whispered. "It's a message."
On the far wall, written in streaks of soul-ash, were words that made Asher's heart lurch:
The Shattered Name Comes.
Liaen stepped back, grip tightening on his spear. "They know we're coming."
Elira's form dimmed. "No… they know she's awakening."
Emilia looked around, her voice small. "Who? Me?"
But the city gave no answer.
At Ravencross's heart stood the old Soul Gate—an arch of blackened crystal, once used to bridge the outposts of Alsira. Now it stood dormant, lifeless.
Until Elira touched it.
A pulse of light surged through the structure—and through Elira's soul.
Asher took a step back. "This was the last place you passed through, wasn't it?"
Elira nodded slowly. "I was escorting a soul-weaver. A girl. She never made it."
Emilia froze. "A girl?"
"Hair like moonlight. Eyes like yours." Elira turned to her. "She wore a pendant etched with a phoenix."
Emilia reached beneath her cloak, fingers trembling as she drew out the pendant resting against her chest.
"I've had this since I was a child."
A truth sparked in the air between them. A memory resurfaced. A bond reforged.
"She was my sister," Emilia whispered. "The one I barely remember."
Before they could speak further, something stirred behind the gate.
A figure emerged—cloaked in violet soul-flame, its face hidden beneath a cracked helm. It moved with silent purpose, as if shaped from the shadow it stepped through.
"Step away from the gate," the figure said. Its voice was calm, cold. Dead.
Elira's glow flickered. "That's… Veynir. The Gatekeeper of the Lost."
Liaen frowned. "He died in the Second Rift War."
"Exactly," Elira said grimly. "And now he guards the path to Alsira—as a ghost."
Asher stepped forward. "You know who we are?"
Veynir nodded. "I do. And I know what she carries." His gaze fixed on Emilia. "The soul-seed. The last spark of the Phoenix Line."
Emilia's breath caught. "Are you here to stop us?"
"No," Veynir said. "I'm here to test you."
The air tightened. Soul energy coiled through the ruins like a storm about to break.
"If you can defeat me," he said, "you are worthy to face what waits beyond."
The battle exploded in a flash of light and flame.
Veynir struck first—blades of radiant soulfire appearing in his hands. Asher met him blade-to-blade, their clash splitting stone. Liaen's flame-spears tore through the air. Elira struck with piercing waves of light. Emilia stood at the center, holding the shield.
But Veynir was relentless. A guardian once, he knew their every tactic. A ghost now, he felt no pain.
Emilia closed her eyes, reaching into the bond she shared with Elira—and deeper still, into the fractured memories of a sister lost. She whispered a name only her soul remembered.
From her palm, a blade formed. Not forged in steel—but in memory.
She struck.
The blade pierced Veynir's chest—not to destroy—but to awaken.
He froze.
"That energy… I trained your sister to wield that."
He looked at Emilia fully, and for the first time, smiled.
"You carry her courage."
And then—he bowed.
"I yield."
The Soul Gate opened.
Not with thunder. Not with light.
But with silence. With stillness.
"You may pass," Veynir said. "But understand this—what waits in Alsira is not just power. It is truth. And truth has teeth."
He faded.
And Emilia—shaken, but steadier than before—stepped through the gate.
Elira followed, her soul flickering at her side.
Asher lingered one breath longer, then stepped forward.
The past was no longer behind them.
It was waiting ahead.