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Chapter 3 - THE ASHBORN'S HEART

Chapter Three: The Ashborn's Heart

The cavern smelled of ash and wet stone. Smoke from the disintegrated trackers hung

low, swirling in pale ribbons around my knees. My hands trembled, still glowing faintly with

the silver light.

I stared at the place where the last creature had fallen. Nothing remained but a dark

scorch mark on the ground. My breath came ragged, my heart hammering against my ribs

like it was trying to escape.

"What… what was that?" I whispered.

Mara didn't answer immediately. She lowered her staff and surveyed the chamber with

calm, sharp eyes. Only when the echo of claws faded into silence did she speak.

"Your birthright," she said softly.

I stumbled back until my shoulders hit the cold cavern wall. "Birthright? I've never had

anything. I'm no vampire, no witch, no human. How can I…" My voice cracked. "How can I

do that?"

Mara's pale face tilted toward me, candlelight catching in her silver eyes. "You're not just

between worlds, Alexander. You're built from them. That magic you wield — it's not

borrowed. It's yours."

My skin crawled. The glow under my flesh dimmed, but it hadn't left. It pulsed, steady as a

heartbeat, like it belonged to me now.

"I don't want it," I said. "I don't even know what it is."

Mara stepped closer, placing a hand over my trembling fist. "Power doesn't ask what you

want. It asks what you'll do."

I shut my eyes. Alan's face flickered behind my eyelids — his last words slicing deeper

than any claw. "I hate this," I muttered. "I didn't ask for it. I don't want it."

Mara glanced back. "It saved your life."

"I didn't save anything," I snapped. "I turned things to ash. I could've killed you."

Her eyes softened just a fraction. "It's not the power that kills. It's the will behind it."

I shook my head. "You don't understand. I'm not strong enough for this. I've been weak my

whole life — and now this thing inside me wants out. It's… wrong."

The glow surged again, stronger, as if it resented my words. I gasped and staggered. For

a heartbeat the walls of the tunnel bled silver light, showing murals of screaming faces.Then it faded, leaving me trembling.

Mara slowed. "The Heart is calling you."

"I don't want it to call me!" I shouted. "I want it gone!"

Above us, the tunnels moaned as though the city itself was waking. A distant roar rolled

down the passage, followed by a tremor beneath our feet.

Mara's head snapped toward the sound. "They're sealing the upper levels. We have

minutes." She turned to me, her grip on my arm tightening. "You can stand here shaking or

you can come with me. Which is it?"

I forced myself to breathe. Forced myself to nod. "I'm coming."

She released me and strode toward a crumbled archway at the far end of the cavern. Her

staff's tip sparked a faint line of blue fire across the stone as she walked, revealing sigils

and old carvings hidden beneath moss.

I hesitated, then followed. Every step sent echoes whispering ahead of us. My new senses

— whatever they were — stirred again. I felt a pull, faint but certain, drawing me deeper

into the earth.

"What is this place?" I asked, my voice hushed despite myself.

"Older than vampires. Older than witches. A city of bones and secrets." Mara's tone was

low but reverent. "And somewhere down here beats the Ashborn's Heart."

The air grew warmer as we descended. Strange symbols lined the tunnel walls — half

familiar, half alien. My pulse matched their rhythm.

I swallowed hard. "And what happens when we find it?"

Mara glanced over her shoulder, her expression unreadable in the dim light. "That

depends on you."

We walked in silence for several heartbeats, the sound of dripping water our only

companion. Then, just ahead, the tunnel widened into another vast chamber, the ceiling

lost in darkness.

A roar split the cavern, shaking dust from the ceiling. Something massive stirred in the

dark — scales scraping stone, claws like knives. Two enormous eyes opened, glowing

gold.

"The Guardian," Mara whispered.Before I could speak, it lunged. Stone shattered under its claws. Mara raised her staff, but

the beast's tail knocked her aside like a doll.

"Mara!" I dove toward her. She lay gasping, pinned under rubble.

The beast turned to me, jaws opening wide. I froze. Every instinct screamed to run.

The silver glow inside me surged, but this time I forced it back. "No," I whispered. "Not

again. I can't…"

Then I saw Mara's fingers twitch, her lips trying to form a spell. She wouldn't make it.

And something in me shifted. This wasn't about me anymore. This was about saving her.

I raised my hands. "Fine," I whispered. "If you're mine, then do what I say."

The silver light erupted — not wild this time, but focused. It poured from my palms like

spears of dawn, striking the Guardian in the chest and pinning it to the cavern wall. The

ground trembled as the creature roared, then fell still.

My knees buckled. The glow receded into my skin like water into sand, leaving faint silver

traces along my arms.

Mara pulled herself free and staggered toward me. "You did it," she breathed.

I shook my head, dazed. "No… I didn't lose control this time. I… controlled it."

"That's the difference between a weapon and a warrior," she said softly.

I looked at my hands. They no longer frightened me. They felt like mine — heavy, but

mine.

"I'm not a vampire. Not a witch. Not human," I said. "But maybe I don't have to be."

Mara's lips curved in the faintest smile. "Maybe you're something new."

The cavern's heart pulsed ahead, the Ashborn's Heart glowing with silver fire. For the first

time, I stepped toward it not in dread, but with purpose

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