The ground trembled beneath Asha as she struggled to rise to her feet. Her breath came in sharp, painful gasps, her body drained from the immense effort of unleashing the Soulbone's power. The air around her still hummed with the residual magic, a tremor of energy that seemed to pulse from the very heart of the Spire. She could feel it deep inside her, the echoes of the Ancestral Spirits and the remnants of the Blood Pact, still struggling to cling to existence.
But they were fading. The Soulbone was gone—destroyed—and with it, the dark power that had corrupted her bloodline for so long.
“Asha, stay with me," Darian's voice cut through the fog of exhaustion clouding her mind. His hands were on her shoulders, steadying her, his touch warm against the cold that had seeped into her bones.
