The air in Merek's cabin felt electric, heavy with the weight of the decision I was about to make. Outside, the howling of the Shadow Stalkers grew louder, their claws scratching against the protective salt line I had drawn at the door.
"Shakil, you don't have to do this," Lyria said, her voice barely a whisper. She looked at me, her silver hair shimmering in the emerald light of Merek's lantern. "This bond... it's not just magic. It's a part of your soul. You'll feel my scars, my fears, and my enemies will become yours."
I looked at my hands, still stained with the ash of my ruined village. "They already are, Lyria."
Elder Merek stepped forward, holding a silver dagger and a bowl of shimmering moon-water. "Place your hands together over the water," he commanded.
As our palms met, a jolt of energy shot through me. Her skin was ice-cold, yet I felt a burning fire deep within her. It was the Star Shard, pulsing in sync with her heart.
"Repeat after me," Merek chanted, his voice echoing with ancient power. "My life for yours. My light for your shadow. Two souls, one destiny."
As I spoke the words, I felt a sharp, stinging pain in my chest. A thread of brilliant silver light emerged from Lyria's heart and began to wind around my wrist, glowing brighter with every heartbeat. I gasped, my knees buckling. Suddenly, memories that weren't mine flooded my mind—cold stone walls, a sky filled with falling stars, and a lonely tower.
Lyria's eyes turned completely silver. She gripped my hand so hard I thought my bones would snap.
"The bond is sealed," Merek whispered.
The silver light faded, leaving a faint, glowing mark on my inner wrist—a mark of a crescent moon entwined with a star.
Instantly, the scratching at the door stopped. The heavy, suffocating pressure of the Shadow Stalkers vanished. By bonding my soul to hers, I had effectively masked her immense power with my own human aura. To the world, she was now invisible. To me, she was everywhere.
"I can feel you," I whispered, looking at Lyria. I could feel her exhaustion, her relief, and a sudden, sharp spark of... affection?
She looked at the mark on my wrist, then up at me, a single silver tear tracing a path down her cheek. "You're a fool, Shakil."
"Maybe," I smiled weakly, leaning against the table for support. "But I'm a fool who's still alive."
Merek didn't let us rest for long. He handed me a heavy, leather-bound book and a new staff made of dark ironwood. "The Stalkers are gone for now, but the Dark Lord will realize what you've done. You must leave for the Crystal Mountains tonight. Your journey has truly begun."