Chapter 53 ONLY I CAN MEND THE SEAL
(HAVEN)
I gently massage my temples trying to ease out the migraine that is on its way. It's been over an hour since Damodar showed up and told us that there is someone else in Euron with Eurolys. Someone even more powerful and can help him break the scene.
After our trip to the Alchemy mountains, I'll start looking into how to solve this Eurolys problem. Auren is getting weaker by the day and can't afford to hold the seal for much longer.
Urgh!
The door opens and a servant girl enters holding a bowl. “My queen, if I massage your head with this herbal oil, the headache is going to vanish like it never existed."
I nod and with a smile, she instantly gets to work.
I shut my eyes as her hands feel like magic on my head.
The pressure on my scalp suddenly stops and I froen, opening my eyes. The servant girl is already backing away, head bowed, her steps hurried like she has been dismissed without a word. Her eyes are wide with fear and I when I raise my head, I know why.
My mother stands near the window, arms crossed, her expression tight with concern. Moonlight passes straight through her form, casting faint silver distortions on the floor. The servant opens the door and heads out still shaking.
“You didn’t have to scare her off,” I mutter, rubbing my temples again.
“She didn't need to hear what I have to say,” my mother replies sharply.
She walks towards me, picks up the oil and begins massaging my scalp. Her fingers are even more soothing.
I swallow, and take a deep breath. . “Damodar said there’s another soul in Euron. Someone stronger than Eurolys.”
“Yes,” she says quietly. “And that is what truly worries me.”
“But I thought Euron can hold just one person.” But then, things are never as they seem.
My mother exhales slowly. “That’s what I also thought. But Damodar won't say something that serious without being sure. Maybe Eurolys was never the mastermind.”
My pulse spikes. “You’re saying someone else was pulling the strings.”
She nods. “The other soul predates him. Older magic. The kind that doesn’t rage…it waits. Maybe he was a pawn all along.”
I stand abruptly and pace the room. “Auren is fading. I can feel it every time he touches me, every time he smiles like he’s fine when he isn’t. He isn't going to be able to hold the seal for much longer. It'll kill him in the process. We have to do something.”
My mother’s voice wavers. “I never wanted this burden for you.”
“Well, congratulations,” I snap, then immediately regret it. I stop pacing and turn to her. “I’m sorry. I know none of this is your fault.”
She smiles sadly. “Some of it is. Especially since I married Eurolys and helped him get the forbidden magic.”
I step closer. “Then help me fix it.”
She looks up at me, eyes shining with pride and fear all tangled together. “You will have to do something I hoped you’d never have to.”
My stomach drops. “What?”
“You will have to enter Euron,” she says.
The words hit like a blow.
“That’s impossible,” I whisper. “No one survives Euron.”
There's a knock on the door and mother's figure fades away instantly. I sigh and nod. “Come in."
The door opens and another servant girl steps in. “My queen, king Tyren calls you to his study."
I sigh for the millionth time, hoping this night would come to an end soon. I'm literally the most tired being on the planet.
I rub my temples harder, trying to push the migraine back into whatever dark corner it crawled out of. It doesn’t work. The pain throbs like someone’s hammering gold nails into my skull, and every beat brings
I push up from the bed. My legs feel unsteady, but I lock my knees. “Lead the way.”
She turns without another word, and I follow through the winding corridors of the elvish palace. Festival noise fades behind us—drums and laughter replaced by the hush of old stone and torchlight flickering on walls carved with vines. My bare feet make no sound on the marble.
We reach tall double doors—twisted silver runes and curling vines. The guard pushes them open and steps aside.
Tyren stands at the far window, back to me, looking out at the starlit forest. The study smells like old parchment, ink, cedar incense. Shelves tower on every wall, stuffed with scrolls and leather books. A long table sits in the center, covered in maps of Elaria. Red ink marks the seals—jagged cracks spreading from the Euron rift like broken glass.
He turns. Silver hair catches candlelight. Green eyes—sharp, ancient—fix on me.
“Close the door,” he says, quietly. I do, the sound of the latch clicking causes my stomach to knot.
He nods toward the chair across the table.and I sit hands in my lap so he won’t see them shake.
“You spoke to her,” he says. Not a question.
I nod. “ Mother told me about Euron, about the second soul. How patient it is. How no one comes back.”
Tyren exhales, slow and tired. He walks to the table, fingers tracing one red line on the map. “Your mother was brilliant, and reckless. She thought she could bind Eurolys with Ethereal Essence alone. She thought if she gave him what he wanted he’d love her more.”
" She was stupid,” I mutter loud enough for him to hear. My mother has to be one of the most foolish people I know if you put together all the shit she's done in the name of love.
Tyren nods, his eyes holding some degree of sadness can't possibly comprehend. “He made her believe he was unwell, but she knew that was not the case. What she did fed the fracture, and gave birth to the second presence. It was already in Euron. It just used Eurolys as a cover. No one could ever suspect there was actually a second spirit .”
" Just like Eurolys used my mom as a cover?” I ask and he nods.
My throat tightens. “Auren is dying because of trying to keep that thing in place. The curse, combined with the amount of power he uses is draining him faster than it's supposed to. It's worse every day. Every time we touch, I feel him barely hanging on.”
Tyren’s gaze softens, just a fraction. “I know. That is why you are here. The council meets in two days. Some will push for sacrifice, a power to seal the place for goof, others for open war, letting the spirit out and fighting it head on. But you…” He leans forward, palms flat on the table. “You carry the last of Athalia’s blood. You have the Eathereal Essence flowing in your veins. If anyone can walk into Euron and reseal the rift without becoming another vessel, it is you.”
I stare at him. “You want me to go in. Alone.”
“Not alone,” he corrects. “But Auren cannot cross the threshold. The curse would finish him before he reached the first ward. You would need allies. Imogen, perhaps, or a Verkin scout who knows the old paths. The mending, though… that is yours alone.”
The migraine pulses. Golden light flickers under my skin like trapped fireflies. I press a hand to my chest. Through the bond I feel Auren, weak, flickering, still fighting. Still there.
“And if I say no?” My voice comes out small.
Tyren’s face hardens. “Then the second soul wakes completely, and Eurolys becomes its mask. The continent burns, Auren dies anyway. And you live knowing your hesitation ended them all.”
Silence stretches, thick, and heavy.
I swallow. “When do we leave?”
“You leave for the mountain tomorrow. Save your sister first and on your way back to Drakorath, we'll decide." He says. “I’ll start the preparations before then. Don't speak to Auren about this. He knows the truth as well as I do, and will never let you leave.”