The air inside the chamber felt like it had thickened, weighed down by magic so ancient it seemed to pulse through the stone walls. Liyana took a slow breath, trying to keep her pulse steady, but her heart hammered in her chest as she stared at the figure bound to the altar. The chains—dark and twisting like living tendrils—seemed to breathe in sync with the figure's slow, measured movements.
"You said we need to reinforce the binding," Liyana said, her voice a low whisper. "What exactly does that involve? Because this thing looks like it's about five minutes away from snapping those chains."
Rowan's jaw tightened, and for the first time, Liyana saw a flicker of uncertainty cross his face. He stepped forward slowly, his movements deliberate, as though approaching a caged beast. "The ritual that was performed here is ancient—older than anything still practiced in Varnath. It's blood magic, but not the kind we're used to."
Liyana frowned, her fingers itching as she felt the pull of the magic around her. Blood magic. Of course it would be. The one thing she had spent her entire life running from seemed to find its way into every corner of this cursed city. She could feel the hum of it beneath her skin, tempting her, drawing her closer to something she didn't want to face.
"I can't do it alone," Rowan said, his voice steady but grim. "I'll need your help."
Liyana's stomach twisted. Oh no. She shook her head before he even finished speaking. "I'm not doing blood magic, Rowan. That's not—"
"You don't have a choice," he interrupted, turning to face her, his amber eyes hard. "This isn't about you or your reluctance. If we don't act, that thing will break free, and I guarantee it won't care about your moral qualms when it starts tearing the city apart."
Liyana's jaw clenched, her hands curling into fists at her sides. She hated that he was right. Hated it. But there was no denying the reality of the situation. The figure on the altar shifted again, the chains rattling ominously, and Liyana felt the cold rush of fear clawing at her insides. Whatever was bound here wasn't just some restless spirit. It was something far older, far more dangerous than anything she had ever encountered.
"Fine," she muttered, the word tasting bitter on her tongue. "What do you need me to do?"
"Yeah, yeah," Liyana cut him off, her voice tight. "I know how blood magic works. Just tell me where to start."
She hated the way her hands trembled as she stepped closer to the altar. The closer she got, the more she could feel the magic crawling through the air, thick and suffocating. The pull of it was overwhelming, like a tide threatening to drag her under. Her blood buzzed in her veins, the old magic stirring in response to the ancient ritual that still lingered in the stones.
Malik stood back, his face pale but steady. "Are you sure about this?" he asked quietly, his voice tense.
Liyana gave him a quick glance, managing a half-hearted smile. "I'm never sure about anything. But here we are."
She could feel the weight of Malik's concern, the silent question behind his eyes: How far are you willing to go?
The truth was, Liyana didn't know. She had spent her life avoiding this—avoiding the pull of blood magic, the weight of her family's dark legacy. But now, standing in the heart of Varnath, facing an ancient power that threatened to break free, she couldn't run from it anymore.
Rowan stood at her side, his expression unreadable. "We need to channel the magic through the binding marks," he explained, his voice low. "If we can reinforce the original spell, we might be able to hold it long enough to figure out how to contain it for good."
Liyana nodded, though her mind raced. Channeling blood magic. Right. Piece of cake.
She knelt beside the altar, her fingers hovering just above the ancient symbols carved into the stone. The blood that had once filled the grooves had dried long ago, but the magic remained, lingering like a heavy fog over everything. She could feel it pulsing beneath her fingertips, a low, insistent thrum that seemed to resonate with the very core of her being.
Taking a steadying breath, Liyana closed her eyes, trying to focus. The pull of the magic was stronger now, almost overwhelming, and she felt her heartbeat quicken in response. It was like standing at the edge of a cliff, knowing that one wrong step would send her plunging into the abyss.
"You're ready," Rowan murmured, his voice close, his breath warm against her ear.
She wasn't. Not even close. But she didn't have the luxury of time to hesitate.
"Fine," she muttered, her voice barely a whisper. "Let's do this."
Liyana pressed her hand to the stone, and the moment her skin made contact, she felt the magic roar to life. A surge of power shot through her, burning hot and fierce, and for a split second, she thought it would consume her whole. She gasped, her vision blurring as the symbols beneath her hand glowed, the ancient magic responding to the fresh blood coursing through her veins.
She could feel it—the binding spell. It wasn't just in the stone. It was in her now, wrapping itself around her like a second skin, pressing against her senses, heavy and dark. Her blood pulsed in time with the magic, her veins humming with the power she had spent so long suppressing.
"That's it," Rowan said softly, his voice steady, guiding her through the storm. "You're in control. You direct the magic—don't let it direct you."
Liyana clenched her jaw, her teeth grinding together as she fought to keep her focus. It felt like the magic was trying to pull her apart from the inside out, but she couldn't let go. She had to hold it. Had to channel it.
The figure on the altar shifted again, its movements more pronounced now, the chains rattling violently. The ancient magic in the air crackled, sending sparks of energy through the room, and Liyana's grip on the magic wavered.
"Liyana, stay with me," Rowan urged, his voice cutting through the haze of power and pain.
She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she fought to keep control. The blood magic surged within her, wild and raw, but she held onto it with everything she had. Slowly, the symbols on the altar began to glow brighter, the ancient spell reigniting as she poured her magic into it.
"I've got it," she whispered through gritted teeth, her body trembling from the effort.
The chains binding the figure pulsed, tightening as the magic flowed through them, but the figure was still moving, still fighting to break free. Liyana could feel its power pushing back, pressing against the magic, and it took every ounce of her strength to hold it.
"It's not enough," she gasped, her voice shaking. "I can't hold it alone—there's too much."
Rowan was at her side in an instant, his hand hovering just above hers. "You're not alone," he said softly. "Let me help."
She nodded, barely able to speak as the weight of the magic threatened to crush her. Rowan pressed his hand over hers, and the moment their magic combined, Liyana felt a surge of power so strong it nearly knocked her off her feet. The binding spell roared to life, the symbols blazing with light as their combined magic flowed through them.
The chains tightened, and for a brief, heart-stopping moment, Liyana thought they might succeed.
But then, something shifted.
The figure on the altar stopped moving, and the air around them stilled. The chains, which had been rattling and thrashing moments before, fell silent. The room seemed to hold its breath, the magic in the air heavy and still.
Liyana's pulse quickened, her instincts screaming at her that something was wrong. Very wrong.
And then, the figure moved.
It wasn't the slow, deliberate movements from before. This was fast, violent. The chains snapped with a deafening crack, and the figure shot upright, its shadowy form towering above them.
Liyana's breath caught in her throat as the air around them exploded with raw, untamed magic. Whatever had been bound here wasn't just breaking free. It was awake. And it was angry.
The air seemed to shatter around them, the thick fog swirling violently as the ancient magic roared to life. Liyana stumbled back, her breath catching in her throat as the figure on the altar fully rose, snapping the last of its chains as if they were no more than cobwebs. The sheer force of its presence filled the room like a wave crashing against her chest, suffocating in its intensity.
The shadows clung to the figure, swirling around its form like a cloak of darkness, making it hard to see what—who—they were dealing with. But Liyana didn't need to see the details to know one thing for certain: whatever this was, it was older, darker, and far more dangerous than anything she had ever imagined.
Her heart hammered in her chest as the figure turned its head, those empty, hollow eyes locking onto hers. For a split second, Liyana was frozen, unable to move, unable to breathe. It was as if those eyes were pulling her in, drawing her toward a darkness she couldn't escape. The magic in the room pulsed, thick and cloying, pressing in on her from all sides.
She could hear Malik's voice distantly behind her, calling her name, but it felt muffled, like she was underwater, too far away to reach. The world had narrowed down to the figure before her—its power, its hunger—and the crushing weight of her own blood magic, swirling beneath her skin like a storm she could barely control.
Rowan moved first, stepping between Liyana and the figure, his body tense, his hand outstretched in a defensive gesture. His voice, low and sharp, cut through the magic-fueled fog in Liyana's mind. "Get back, Liyana."
That snapped her out of it. She took a step back, forcing herself to breathe, forcing her heart to slow. Get it together, she told herself. It's just a cursed, ancient... thing. No big deal. She swallowed hard, feeling her pulse still thudding in her ears. Okay, maybe a very big deal.
The figure on the altar didn't move at first, but Liyana could feel the energy radiating off it—dark, crackling like static in the air. Whatever they'd just unleashed wasn't happy. And if she had to guess, it wasn't planning to sit quietly while they figured out how to shove it back into its magical box.
The shadows surrounding the figure shifted, moving almost like tendrils of smoke, curling and unfurling as the figure stepped down from the altar. Its movements were smooth, predatory, and Liyana had the distinct feeling of being stalked.
"Rowan," Malik said quietly, his voice taut with tension, "what is that?"
Rowan's eyes never left the figure. His face was as unreadable as ever, but Liyana could see the strain in his posture, the way his jaw clenched as he took in the situation. "It's a revenant," he said finally, his voice tight. "A spirit that's been anchored to the world of the living for too long. It's—"
The figure moved then—too fast for any of them to react—and Rowan barely had time to raise his hand before the force of the revenant's magic slammed into him. He was thrown backward, crashing into the stone wall with a sickening thud.
"Rowan!" Liyana shouted, but she barely had time to process what had happened before the figure turned its attention back to her. The air around them crackled with power, and Liyana could feel the cold rush of fear clawing at her insides.
Okay, think, Liyana. Do something. She clenched her fists, her blood magic stirring inside her, but she hesitated. The revenant's presence was overwhelming, a dark force that felt too vast, too powerful to confront head-on.
"Liyana, move!" Malik shouted, his voice cutting through the panic that gripped her.
Instinct kicked in, and Liyana dodged to the side just as the revenant lunged toward her. She hit the stone floor hard, rolling to her feet just in time to see the figure turn, its empty gaze still fixed on her. There was no hesitation, no doubt in its movements—it was coming for her.
Liyana scrambled backward, her mind racing. This thing isn't going to stop until it takes me down. What the hell do I do?
Rowan groaned from where he lay crumpled against the wall, struggling to push himself to his feet. His voice was hoarse as he spoke. "Liyana... the blood magic... you need to use it."
She hesitated, her hand trembling as she reached for the magic that had been simmering beneath her skin this whole time. She could feel it, just waiting to be unleashed, but something in her resisted. If I let it out, I don't know if I can control it.
The revenant moved again, fast and lethal, closing the distance between them in an instant. Liyana barely had time to throw up a shield of magic, a thin, fragile barrier of energy that rippled against the force of the attack. She gritted her teeth, her body shaking from the effort of holding the shield in place.
"It's not going to hold," she muttered under her breath. The revenant pressed harder against her shield, its dark energy crackling in the air around them. The shadows twisted and writhed, and Liyana could feel her strength waning.
Malik moved forward then, his cane raised in a defensive stance, but Liyana knew he wasn't equipped for this. Not against something like this.
"Liyana, drop the shield," Rowan's voice came again, rough but insistent. "You have to fight it with blood magic. It's the only way."
"And what if it backfires?" Liyana shot back, her voice tight with panic. "I've spent years keeping this magic buried. You want me to just unleash it on that thing? What if it—"
"It's not about what if," Rowan interrupted, his voice sharp. "It's about now. Do it or we're all dead."
Liyana's heart raced, the pressure building as the revenant's magic pressed harder against her shield. She could feel it—her control slipping, the magic inside her roaring to life, hungry and eager to be used.
"Dammit," she muttered under her breath. She didn't have a choice. Not anymore.
Taking a deep breath, Liyana closed her eyes and let go.
The moment she released her hold on the blood magic, it surged through her like wildfire. Her veins burned with the raw power of it, and for a split second, she thought it might consume her whole. But she didn't fight it this time. She let it flow through her, wrapping itself around her like armor, crackling with energy as it met the revenant's dark magic head-on.
The shield she had been holding dissolved, but in its place, something far more powerful erupted—a wave of blood magic that tore through the air, slamming into the revenant with the force of a tidal wave.
The creature staggered back, its form rippling as the magic struck it, and for the first time, Liyana saw a crack in its shadowy exterior. It faltered, its movements slower now, more erratic.
Liyana's breath came in ragged gasps, her hands trembling from the effort of channeling so much magic at once. She could feel the power coursing through her, raw and untamed, and it took everything she had to keep from losing control.
"It's working," Rowan said, his voice low, though she could hear the strain in his words. "Keep going."
Liyana's body ached, her muscles burning from the strain, but she pushed forward. She had to. The revenant wasn't going to stop unless she made it stop.
With a final, desperate surge of magic, Liyana threw everything she had at the creature. The blood magic crackled in the air, the room filled with the sound of ancient power roaring to life. The revenant screeched—a horrible, bone-chilling sound that reverberated through the chamber—and then, finally, it collapsed.
The shadows that had clung to its form dissipated, the dark tendrils dissolving into nothing. The room fell silent.
Liyana stood there, her body shaking, her breath ragged. She could still feel the blood magic thrumming in her veins, but the immediate danger was gone. The revenant was... gone.
For a long moment, none of them moved. The air was thick with the aftermath of the battle, the magic still hanging heavy around them.
"Well," Liyana gasped, her voice hoarse from the effort, "that sucked."
Malik let out a shaky laugh, his face pale but relieved. "Yeah, that's one way to put it."
Rowan pushed himself to his feet, his expression unreadable as he looked at Liyana. "You did it."
Liyana managed a half-smile, though her hands were still trembling from the effort of holding all that magic. "Yeah, I guess I did." She let out a long, slow breath, trying to calm the wild energy still pulsing inside her.
The revenant was gone, but the magic was still there. And it wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.