Chapter 9: The Gate Hungers
The arch pulsed like a heartbeat.
No… like many heartbeats — all wrong. Out of time. Out of life.
Lira stood alone before it, the Staff of Bones burning in her hand.
The masked sorceress screamed in fury from across the room, her horrors crawling over cracked stone like insects. They clawed toward the gate — not to breach it, but to feed it.
"Don't you dare," Lira snapped, twirling the staff. "You want this thing open? Fine! Let's see how you handle it when someone chaotic and underqualified is in charge!"
She raised the staff again.
It trembled in her grip.
Magic erupted — not as a beam or burst, but as a song. Not notes, but intent. The chamber responded like a living being. Runes on the floor blazed. Ghosts flickered in the corners. Even the air wept.
The horrors shrieked.
Lira shouted over them: "THIS IS A CLOSURE SPELL! PROBABLY! I HOPE!"
She spun the staff in a circle, dragging its white flame through the air. A seal began to form over the gate — slowly, fragile. One mistake and it would collapse.
The guardian spirit hovered beside her.
> "You must give more," it whispered. "The gate resists. The Queen's hand is on the other side."
Lira looked down at her arms — glowing faintly now, bone markings blooming like frost under her skin.
"…What more do you want?" she whispered. "I'm just a kender."
> "You are unclaimed. That is enough."
The seal cracked. One of the horrors had slammed its body into it, sacrificing itself to fracture the spell. Another charged.
Lira screamed in frustration, blocking with the staff.
It struck her shoulder.
Pain seared. Real, sharp. She fell, staff clattering beside her.
The masked sorceress approached slowly.
"Let the gate open, child. You've seen the world above. There's nothing left but war. This is the end. Let it end."
Lira's hand twitched toward the staff.
"…No."
The sorceress stopped. "No?"
Lira sat up, lip bleeding. "I've seen ends. The Cataclysm. The ruin. The war. And you know what? People still sang. Baked terrible bread. Fell in love. Played cards badly."
She grabbed the staff again.
"We don't give up just because it's hard."
She rose to her feet, hands shaking.
"I'm Lira Tumblespark," she said, "and I am shutting this door with or without your creepy mask."
Power surged.
This time, she didn't cast.
She commanded.
> "Close."
The gate screamed.
The arch twisted. The sigils burned. The room filled with light — searing, soul-deep. The shadows recoiled, clawing at the floor, trying to cling to the world.
The gate slammed shut.
The horrors disintegrated.
The sorceress vanished in a burst of black feathers.
And Lira dropped the staff.
Silence.
Then, finally — finally — the chamber was still.
She sank to her knees, laughing and crying all at once. Her arms were scorched, her voice gone.
"…I need… a nap. A snack. And then… maybe we do that never again."