Chapter 20
The City's Fate
The sun rose over Eldarath, casting a golden light on the city's ancient spires and cobbled streets, a new dawn after the tempest of magic and blood that had unfolded the night before. Alaric stood at the edge of the city's high walls, looking out across the vast expanse of the lands he had once believed were beyond his reach. The world was changed now—so much had happened, and so much had been lost. Yet, in the depths of his heart, Alaric knew that the battle was only the beginning of a much greater choice.
Behind him, Seraphine stood quietly, her eyes trained on the distant horizon. The dust of the battle had settled, and though the city was healing, the scars of the conflict lingered. The witches had been defeated, their forces scattered to the wind. The city's ancient magic, however, remained. But the question of how to wield it, or whether it should be wielded at all, now lay heavy on Alaric's heart.
"You've saved us, Alaric," Seraphine said softly, her voice carrying a bittersweet undertone. "But the price… the cost of all of this…"
Alaric didn't turn to face her immediately, instead continuing to watch the horizon as if waiting for something—anything—that might offer him clarity. The sky was clear, a soft blue stretching over the land, but the weight of his decision felt like a storm cloud gathering within him.
"I didn't do it alone," Alaric replied after a long pause, finally turning to look at Seraphine. "We all fought for this. Eldarath didn't belong to one person. It belongs to all of us."
Her eyes softened, but there was a flicker of something else in her gaze—a conflict, a lingering doubt. "But the magic…" she started, her voice trailing off as if the words were too heavy to say aloud.
The ancient magic of Eldarath, as Alaric knew too well, had the potential to either heal the world or tear it apart. It was both a gift and a curse. The power that surged through the city was unlike anything in existence, a force that had built entire civilizations and caused their downfall. The prophecy had warned of this. Alaric, the last heir of Eldarath's royal bloodline, held the key to its future, and yet, the choice of what to do with that key was his alone.
"I've felt it," Alaric said quietly. "The magic of Eldarath. It's alive. It's a part of the city, and now, a part of me. But… it's also dangerous. So much power, it's almost unbearable."
Seraphine took a step closer to him, her eyes full of understanding. "You don't have to bear it alone anymore, Alaric. We've faced everything together, and we can face this, too. Eldarath can rebuild, you can rebuild, and maybe… maybe we can find a way to use its magic for good."
Alaric met her gaze, the weight of her words settling into his heart. There was truth in them, and yet, there was a hollow space in him—a space where he still couldn't find peace with the power he had inherited. The thought of wielding the magic of Eldarath to bring peace to the world was a noble one, but it also held an immense responsibility. He had seen firsthand the damage such power could cause in the wrong hands. The forces of darkness had tried to claim it for their own. What would stop others from trying to do the same?
"What if we're wrong?" he murmured, the words slipping from his lips before he could stop them. "What if we can't control it? What if… I become what I've been fighting against?"
Seraphine's face softened, and for a moment, Alaric saw the vulnerability she had hidden so well behind her own walls. She reached out, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "You won't. I know you, Alaric. You've already shown what kind of person you are. You've chosen the right path time and again."
Alaric exhaled slowly, trying to push the doubt from his mind, but it clung to him like a shadow. The truth was, he could feel the power of Eldarath pulsing through him, waiting for him to make his choice. It was an intoxicating pull, one that made the world seem small and insignificant in comparison. But that was exactly why he couldn't allow it to consume him.
"I can't keep it," Alaric said finally, his voice firm. "The magic of Eldarath. It's too much for any one person to hold. Too much for me, too much for anyone."
Seraphine's brow furrowed. "You mean… destroy it? All of it?"
Alaric nodded, though the words tasted like ash in his mouth. "I have to. I can't risk the city falling into the wrong hands again. The world is not ready for Eldarath's magic. It's too dangerous. It's too powerful."
Seraphine opened her mouth to argue, but Alaric held up a hand, silencing her. "I've thought about it for days, Seraphine. I've seen what this magic can do—how it can bend even the most well-meaning of people to its will. If I keep it, I become a target. If the magic survives, it will always call to those who want to use it. And I can't protect it forever. Eldarath's magic is a part of the city, but it's also a curse. One I have no right to carry alone."
Seraphine looked away, her lips pressed into a thin line as she absorbed his words. "So, you're going to give it up? Just like that? After everything we've been through?"
Alaric smiled bitterly. "I wish it were that simple. But I know what's right. The magic of Eldarath is not a gift—it's a force. And it needs to be sealed away. For the sake of the world."
He turned his gaze back toward the city, the ancient stone buildings now bathed in the light of the rising sun. The magic of Eldarath was still there, still humming beneath the surface. But he knew, deep down, that the choice he was about to make would alter the course of history. Forever.
"I'll find a way to seal it," he said, his voice more resolute now. "I have to. This city deserves to live, to be rebuilt. But not under the shadow of its power."
Seraphine watched him for a long moment, then finally nodded. "I'll help you. Whatever you need."
Alaric met her eyes, his heart swelling with a mixture of gratitude and sorrow. This was not the ending he had hoped for, not the conclusion he had imagined when he first set out to uncover the secrets of Eldarath. But it was the only path forward. And, in the end, it was the right one.
He began to walk toward the center of the city, Seraphine by his side. They passed through the bustling streets, the city alive with the sound of rebuilding. The people of Eldarath were no longer the lost souls they had been, and the city was beginning to regain its former grandeur, though it would never be the same.
At the heart of Eldarath stood the Citadel, the seat of the city's ancient rulers. It was here, in the depths of its vaults, that the magic of the city had been stored, protected by the ancient wards placed by the rulers of Eldarath long ago. And it was here, Alaric knew, that he would make his final decision.
Inside the Citadel, beneath layers of stone and magic, he found the ancient altar. It pulsed with energy, a swirling mass of power that seemed to stretch into infinity. The magic of Eldarath was contained within this space, and Alaric could feel it whispering to him, tempting him to take it, to embrace it fully. But he resisted.
Taking a deep breath, he raised his hands over the altar, his mind focused, his will unyielding. The magic of Eldarath responded to him, surging around him like a living thing. But Alaric was not afraid. He had learned that the true strength lay in the ability to let go.
"Eldarath," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I set you free."
With a single motion, he released the magic, allowing it to flow from him and into the altar. The power swirled around him, a brilliant light blinding him for a moment before it began to dissipate. The city trembled as the magic was sealed away once more, its power contained, its potential locked within the earth.
When the light faded, Alaric stood alone before the altar, his heart heavy but his soul at peace. He had made the right choice. The city's fate was sealed, and with it, the world would be spared the chaos that Eldarath's magic could have wrought.
Seraphine entered the chamber, her expression somber. She said nothing, but her presence was enough. She had stood by him, just as she had from the beginning. Together, they had saved the city. But now, it was time to move forward, to rebuild the world with the lessons they had learned.
Eldarath would live on, its legacy not defined by its magic, but by the strength of its people.
And as Alaric and Seraphine left the Citadel, the city behind them seemed to sigh, a quiet acceptance in the air. The future was uncertain, but for the first time in a long while, it felt full of hope.
The city's fate had been decided. And so had theirs.