POV: Seraphina / Thalion / Alaric
SERAPHINA
The fever hit without warning.
She felt it building as she left the infirmary. Heat spreading through her veins, but it was the wrong kind of heat. Her body was fighting something it could not process.
"Seraphina." Caelan's voice came from far away. "You're burning up."
She tried to answer. Her legs buckled instead. She hit the stone floor. Voices shouted her name from somewhere distant.
Then she lost consciousness.
She saw blurry faces above her. Caelan's, Thalion's, and others she did not recognize.
Dorian pressed a hand to her forehead, his military efficiency cutting through the chaos. "She's burning up. Get the physician. Now."
Yona sat nearby, still pale from her own brush with the curse but refusing to leave. Liora stood guard by the door, her stance rigid with barely contained fury.
"Mother." The word came out rough. "Mother, I'm here. Can you see me?"
More hands and more voices surrounded her. The bitter taste of medicine forced between her lips.
"Why do I keep surviving?" She was crying. She could feel the tears but could not stop them. "They keep dying and I keep living. Every time. Every time I walk away and someone else doesn't."
"She's delirious." A clinical voice. "Her body can't handle the strain. We need to bring the fever down or we'll lose her."
Yona's face appeared, worried and fighting to stay composed. "How much longer?"
"I tried to save them, Mother. I tried so hard. But there's always more. Always another body. Always another name I have to remember."
More cold cloths. Dorian's voice, calm and commanding, organizing the healers. Liora demanding answers from someone in the corridor. The heat in her blood fighting against everything they gave her.
"Soulwell essence and healing draughts in that quantity, for someone who's never pushed this hard before. It's overwhelming her from the inside."
She lost consciousness and woke and lost consciousness again. The cycle repeated until she stopped counting.
She woke to gray light and the bitter smell of medicinal herbs.
Her body felt hollow and empty. The fever had burned through her and left her drained.
Yona sat in a chair near the window, wrapped in a blanket despite the warmth. She was still pale from her own healing, but she had refused to stay in bed while Seraphina fought the fever.
"My lady." Relief filled Yona's voice. "You're awake."
"How long?"
"A day and a half." Yona pressed a cup of water to her lips. "The physician said the fever broke six hours ago. We've been waiting."
Seraphina drank. Her throat felt raw. "Liora? Dorian?"
"Liora is checking the perimeter. She hasn't left the wing since you collapsed." Yona hesitated. "She was furious. Kept saying she should have been there to protect you, that she failed her duty."
"She couldn't have done anything."
"I know. She knows. But it doesn't change how she feels." Yona adjusted the blanket around her own shoulders. "Dorian has been coordinating security with Prince Thalion. He's barely slept."
The door opened. Caelan entered, and behind him came a man she did not recognize.
The stranger was tall and handsome, with sharp cheekbones and intelligent eyes that missed nothing. His dark hair was neatly trimmed and his physician's robes were immaculate despite the circumstances. He moved with the confidence of someone who knew his own competence.
"Seraphina." Caelan crossed to her bedside, obvious relief on his face. "You're awake."
"Apparently." Her voice sounded rough. "Who's your friend?"
"Physician Corwin Vale." The stranger bowed slightly. "His Highness summoned me when the palace healers couldn't break your fever."
"Corwin is the best physician in the realm," Caelan said. "Thalion's closest friend since childhood."
Corwin's handsome face showed a faint smile. "Second-best physician. My mentor still practices in the northern provinces. But I'll accept best within traveling distance."
Seraphina studied him. Pretty, competent, and Thalion's friend. A useful combination.
"What happened to me?"
Corwin pulled a chair close and sat, his manner professional. "Your body couldn't process what you'd taken. Soulwell essence forces your magical reserves beyond their natural limits. Healing draughts accelerate recovery at a cost. Using both in rapid succession, for someone who's never pushed this hard before?" He shook his head. "The body rebels."
"So I poisoned myself with magical enhancement."
"In simple terms, yes. Experienced mages can handle more because their bodies have adapted over time. You hadn't built that tolerance."
Liora appeared in the doorway. Her eyes found Seraphina and something in her rigid posture eased.
"You're awake."
"So everyone keeps telling me."
Liora entered, positioning herself where she could watch both the door and the windows. Dorian followed close behind, his military bearing unchanged despite the exhaustion visible around his eyes.
"Good to see you conscious, my lady," Dorian said. "You had us worried."
"The dismembered are still moving," Liora reported. "Seven of them in the lower cells. The ones from the infirmary battle."
Seraphina closed her eyes. "Casualties during the night?"
"Three guards. Two healers. But the curse stopped spreading once you collapsed. No new infections since then."
"The curse stopped spreading?"
"Slowed," Caelan corrected. "The whispers are quieter. The pressure is less. But it hasn't ended."
"The source is still active," Seraphina said. "Somewhere in the palace."
No one argued. They all knew she was right.
"The dismembered need to be burned," she said. "Once I can stand."
"You need rest." Corwin's tone was firm.
"The curse needs to end." She met his eyes. "Which matters more?"
THALION
He found Corwin in the medical wing three hours later.
His oldest friend stood over a table of instruments, cleaning each one with the focus he brought to everything. Some things about Corwin had never changed since their childhood together.
"How is she?"
"Awake and stubborn. Insisting she needs to burn dismembered curse victims before she's finished her first cup of water." Corwin set down a scalpel. "I like her."
"You would."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Thalion leaned against the doorframe. "Nothing. How much did she push herself?"
"Beyond anything I've seen from someone untrained." Corwin's handsome features showed genuine admiration. "The soulwell and draught combination should have killed her. Her body processed enough magical enhancement to put down a ward-trained battle mage, and she was conscious long enough to save a dozen infected before she collapsed."
"The palace healers say she pulled people back from the edge of turning."
"She did. I examined the survivors." Corwin shook his head. "Whatever bloodline she's carrying, it's not normal noble heritage."
Thalion thought of the fire. The way it had moved for her in the halls. The way the curse recoiled from her presence.
"No," he said quietly. "It's not."
SERAPHINA
The chamber was worse than she had imagined.
Seven bodies. Or pieces of seven bodies. The guards had done their work thoroughly. Limbs separated from torsos and heads removed. The pieces kept moving and reaching for anyone who came close, driven by a hunger that would not stop.
The chamber felt wrong, heavy and hard to breathe in.
Yona had wanted to come. Seraphina had refused. Some things her attendants should not have to witness.
Dorian stood at her left, hand resting on his sword hilt. Liora flanked her right. Caelan waited at the threshold.
"You don't have to watch this," she told them.
"Yes, we do," Dorian said quietly.
She didn't argue. They needed to see her do this. Needed to understand what she was.
She stepped into the chamber and let her fire rise.
Gold light filled the darkness with a steady and controlled fire that felt like her mother's magic answering her call.
The pieces burned. The reaching stopped.
When it was done, only ash remained.
THE ARRIVAL
Duke Gravenor entered the palace two hours later, travel dust still clinging to his cloak.
Seraphina met him in her private study. Dorian and Liora took positions by the door. Caelan stood near the window.
"Gravenor." She gestured for him to sit. "How did you get inside?"
"They lifted the barricade briefly this morning when Siran and Amara arrived." He remained standing, his weathered face grim with urgency. "My network kept me informed throughout the siege. I've been outside those gates for two days, tracking the corruption signature from beyond the walls."
"Two days?"
"The moment I felt the curse activate, I rode for the capital. But by the time I arrived, the barricades were up and no one was getting through." His eyes were hard with frustration. "I've been circling the walls ever since, monitoring the magical pressure."
"And what did you find?"
Gravenor's jaw tightened. "The pressure hasn't lifted. I felt it weaken when the creature died. Your fire did damage. But the corruption signature is still there, pulsing and waiting for something."
Seraphina forced herself to stay calm. "The creature is ash. I burned it myself."
"I know what you burned. Whatever animated that creature, it wasn't the source." Gravenor moved to the window and looked out over the grounds. "The bitten should have stabilized once the creature died. They should have recovered or died cleanly. Instead they turned anyway."
"Because the curse is still active."
"The creature was a servant, a puppet controlled by something else." Gravenor turned back to face her. "Something deeper and older still feeds the curse, and it's directly beneath us."
"Beneath us?"
"I can feel it. The pressure is strongest at the center of the palace. It radiates outward from a single point." He placed his hand flat on the study wall. "Whatever is down there, it's been feeding on this place for days. Growing stronger while we fought its puppets."
Caelan stepped forward. "Can you find it?"
"I can track the signature to its source. But destroying it?" Gravenor shook his head. "That will require more than my senses."
THE WAR ROOM
They gathered within the hour.
Seraphina sat at the head of the table, still pale but steady. Caelan stood at her shoulder. Thalion leaned against the far wall with his arms crossed. Gravenor had spread a rough map of the palace substructure across the table. Dorian positioned himself near the door, watching everyone who entered. Liora stood opposite him, mirroring his protective stance.
"The corruption is concentrated here." Gravenor traced a line through the lower levels. "There are passages beneath the palace that haven't been opened in generations. Sealed chambers. Forgotten crypts."
"You're certain?" Thalion's voice was cold but not dismissive.
"I've tracked demon corruption across three border campaigns. I know what a source feels like." Gravenor met the prince's eyes without flinching. "This isn't over until we destroy whatever is down there."
"If the source is there," Caelan said, "we need to destroy it. Tonight, before it can spread further."
"We don't know what we're dealing with," one of the advisors protested. "We should wait for reinforcements."
"Every hour we wait, the curse grows stronger." Seraphina stood, ignoring the way her legs trembled. "I can feel it. Whatever is down there, it's feeding on the palace. On the people inside. On their fear and their pain."
"Then we go now," Thalion said.
She looked at him. The prince who had suspected her from the moment they met. Who had helped save Yona despite his doubts. Who was now volunteering to descend into unknown darkness beside her.
"You don't have to come."
"Yes," he said quietly. "I do."
Caelan's hand found her shoulder. "We go together."
Gravenor nodded. "I'll lead you to the source. My senses can guide us through the passages."
Dorian stepped forward. "I'm coming with you."
"No." Seraphina shook her head. "I need you here. If something happens to us down there, someone has to protect Yona and the others. Someone has to get them out."
Dorian's jaw tightened, but he nodded. He understood duty. "If you're not back by dawn, I'm coming after you."
"Fair enough."
Four of them. Fire, wind, earth, and the man who could sense what waited in the dark. Whatever lurked beneath the palace, they would face it together.
"We leave in one hour," Seraphina said. "Prepare what you need. This ends tonight."
Beneath the palace, in the forgotten crypts, the relic pulsed.
It could feel them coming. Could feel the fire that burned in her veins.
The whispers grew louder.
She comes to destroy us.
Make her kneel instead.