The Crimson Tower rose before them like a bleeding wound in the twilight sky.
Kael and Lyra had been traveling for what felt like days, though time worked strangely in the Seventh Realm. Sometimes the perpetual dusk brightened to something almost like day. Sometimes it darkened to near-black. But it never truly became one or the other, as if the realm itself was stuck in an eternal moment of transition.
"That's where we're going?" Kael asked, staring up at the massive structure. It looked organic somehow, like it had been grown rather than built. Red light pulsed through veins in its surface.
"Not into it," Lyra said. "Past it. The Crimson Tower is Theron's seat of power. Going inside would be suicide." She pointed to a narrow pass that wound around the tower's base. "But we need to get close enough to access the Shadowroads—the hidden paths that run beneath the realm. They're the only way to travel unseen."
"And if Theron's people catch us?"
"They will." Lyra's smile was grim. "That's why we need to be fast."
They'd grown comfortable with each other over their journey, though Kael wouldn't call them friends exactly. Lyra was too guarded, too focused on their mission. But she'd taught him things—how to control the green light that came so naturally in this realm, how to read the subtle shifts in the twilight that signaled danger, how to survive on the strange fruits that grew in the shadow-forests.
And she'd told him stories. About the Seventh Realm before the sealing, when it had been a place of beauty and magic. About the war that had torn the realms apart, fought over something called the Heart of All Things—an artifact so powerful that it could unmake reality itself. About how his ancestors had sealed the Heart away along with the entire Seventh Realm, cutting both off from existence to save the other six realms.
"My great-great-grandmother was there," Lyra had said one night as they'd camped in a cave of crystallized starlight. "She was just a child, but she remembered. She said your ancestor—Aldric Ashford—promised he'd return within a hundred years to undo the seal properly. To separate the Heart from the realm so both could survive."
"But he never came back," Kael had said.
"No. None of them did. And eventually, your world forgot the Seventh Realm ever existed. We became legends. Then myths. Then nothing." The pain in her voice had been sharp enough to cut. "We've been nothing for three thousand years."
Now, approaching the Crimson Tower, Kael felt that history weighing on him like chains. How was he supposed to fix something that ancient? Something that powerful people had failed to resolve?
"Stop thinking so loud," Lyra said, not looking at him. "I can practically hear your spiral from here."
"How do you know I'm spiraling?"
"Because I do it too. Every day." She glanced at him then, and her silver eyes held understanding. "But we can't afford it right now. Right now, we just need to survive the next hour."
They moved closer to the tower, sticking to the shadows. The landscape here was different—more hostile. The ground was covered in what looked like frozen blood, and the air tasted of copper and desperation.
"This is where they died," Lyra whispered. "The first battle of the sealing. Thousands fell here. The tower grew from their sacrifice."
Kael felt sick. "Lyra, I—"
"Save it. The past is done. Focus on the present."
They were halfway to the pass when the first arrow struck the ground at Kael's feet.
"Well," Lyra said, her voice eerily calm. "That was faster than expected. Run."
They ran.
Arrows fell like rain, each one trailing red light. Kael threw up a shield of green energy, and most of the arrows dissolved on contact. But some got through, and he felt them whistle past his head, close enough to feel the heat.
"There!" Lyra pointed to a crack in the tower's base—a wound in the structure just wide enough to slip through. "The entrance to the Shadowroads!"
They dove for it, but before they could reach safety, a figure materialized in front of them.
Not Theron. Someone else. A woman with eyes like rubies and skin that seemed to shimmer between solid and liquid. She wore armor made of the same red crystal as the tower, and she held a spear that hummed with lethal intent.
"Lyra Shadowborn," the woman said, her voice musical and cold. "My lord said you'd come. He said you'd bring the Ashford heir. He said I should kill you both."
"Lady Crimson," Lyra replied, dropping into a fighting stance. "Still following Theron's orders? I thought you had more pride than that."
"I follow my own conscience. Which tells me that the Ashford line has caused enough suffering." The woman—Lady Crimson—looked at Kael, and her gaze held centuries of grief. "Your ancestors took everything from us, boy. Our freedom. Our future. Our hope. Why should we let you live?"
Kael felt the green light building in his hands, but something made him hesitate. Maybe it was the pain in her voice. Maybe it was the weight of guilt he'd been carrying since he learned the truth.
"You shouldn't," he said quietly. "If I were you, I'd kill me too. But I'm not trying to save myself. I'm trying to save everyone. Both realms."
Lady Crimson's expression flickered—surprise, then something that might have been respect.
"Pretty words. But words won't undo three millennia of suffering." She raised her spear. "I'm sorry, child. You seem decent. But you're carrying the sins of your bloodline, and those sins demand payment."
She lunged.
Kael didn't think. He just reacted, throwing everything he had into a shield. But this time, something different happened.
The green light didn't just block her attack. It showed her something.
Lady Crimson stumbled back, her eyes wide with shock. "What—what did you do?"
"I don't know," Kael gasped. His power had touched her mind, and in that moment, he'd seen what she'd seen—a vision of the future. Of the Seventh Realm restored. Of the realms reconnected. Of peace.
"That's not possible," Lady Crimson whispered. "The future isn't written yet. No one can see—"
"He's not seeing the future," Lyra said, her voice filled with awe. "He's seeing potential. The Ashford gift. I thought it was lost."
"What gift?" Kael asked.
"The ability to see what could be. To show people hope." Lyra grabbed his arm. "That's why your ancestors were able to make the seal in the first place. They convinced everyone it was necessary by showing them what would happen if they didn't. They weaponized hope."
Lady Crimson lowered her spear. "If you can really do that... if you can really show us a way forward..." She looked at Lyra. "The Sorceress won't stop. Neither will Theron. You know that."
"I know. But we have to try."
For a long moment, Lady Crimson said nothing. Then she stepped aside.
"Go," she said quietly. "Use the Shadowroads. I'll tell my lord I killed you. It will buy you time." She met Kael's eyes. "But if you fail, if you betray us again, I will hunt you through every realm in existence. Understood?"
Kael nodded, not trusting his voice.
They slipped through the crack into darkness.
The Shadowroads were exactly what they sounded like—paths made of solidified shadow, winding through the spaces between spaces. Down here, reality was even more flexible. Kael saw doorways leading to places that couldn't exist, heard whispers in languages that had never been spoken.
"We bought ourselves time," Lyra said as they ran. "But not much. Lady Crimson won't be able to lie to Theron for long."
"Lyra," Kael said, "what exactly is this gift I supposedly have?"
"The Ashford bloodline was marked by the Heart of All Things. When your ancestors sealed it away, they trapped some of its power in their own blood. It manifests differently in each generation—sometimes as strength, sometimes as sight, sometimes as something else entirely." She glanced at him. "In you, it seems to be the ability to show potential futures. To make people see hope."
"That sounds dangerous."
"It is. Hope can be a weapon. Your ancestors used it to start a war and end one. You'll have to be careful how you wield it."
They emerged from the Shadowroads into what Lyra called the Azure Territories—lands surrounding the second tower. The landscape here was different, all blue crystal and frozen waterfalls that hung motionless in the air.
"One tower down," Lyra said. "Six more to go."
Kael looked back at the way they'd come, at the distant crimson glow of Theron's domain.
"I showed her hope," he said quietly. "But what if I can't deliver on it? What if the future I showed her is impossible?"
Lyra put her hand on his shoulder. "Then we make it possible. Or we die trying. Those are the only options left."
In the distance, something howled—a sound that was neither animal nor human, but something caught eternally between.
The Seventh Realm was waking up to their presence.
And it was hungry.