The palace hummed in uneasy silence after the first strike. Even with the intruder retreating into the shadows, the air felt charged, like a storm held just beyond sight. I pressed my hand to the railing of the observation balcony, still feeling the pulse of the artifact beneath my skin, sharper now, more insistent. It wasn't just a tether anymore—it was a warning. A presence that demanded attention.
Malrik stepped beside me, his proximity grounding yet suffocating in a way I hadn't expected. We didn't speak immediately. Neither of us needed to. The bond thrummed, low and insistent, filling the space between us with shared awareness. It was a strange intimacy, something I hadn't asked for, yet couldn't deny.
"The intruder will return," Malrik said finally, his voice quiet but edged with steel. "And next time, they won't test us—they'll strike to wound."
I turned to face him, the pulse of the bond sharpening at his words. "Then we prepare. But how? We don't know their strength… or what they want from me."
"From you?" His eyes darkened. "They want the artifact. You are the conduit, the living key. That is all that matters."
I swallowed hard. It was one thing to know the truth in theory, another to have it spoken aloud. I am the key. I could almost feel the weight of the realms pressing into my chest, a gravity I had never asked for, yet could not escape.
"The palace responded well," I said, trying to steady my voice. "We… survived."
Malrik's gaze softened briefly. "We survived because you trusted the bond, and because you aligned with me. Alone, neither of us would have lasted."
The words carried a subtle weight I wasn't prepared for. Alignment. Not obedience, not submission. Alignment. I realized, with a mixture of fear and something else I couldn't name, that the bond was shaping me as much as I was shaping it.
A sudden movement caught my attention—shadows along the corridor, coiling unnaturally, not yet forming a figure but writhing as if aware of our focus. The bond surged sharply, protective and urgent.
"They test awareness," Malrik said, following my gaze. "The artifact is alerting us to intent before action. This is… intelligent hunting."
I nodded, trying to steady my racing thoughts. "Then we need to anticipate—not just react."
He studied me, eyes narrowing. "Good. That instinct will save you. But it will not be enough. The next strike will test the artifact's limits… and yours."
A flicker of fear slid through me, but the bond pulsed again, steady, reassuring. We are one.
"Let's check the defenses," Malrik said, motioning for me to follow. "Every corridor, every chamber. If the intruder returns, they will probe for weakness. We must ensure none exist."
We moved together through the palace corridors. The walls shimmered faintly as the artifact responded to our steps, aligning wards and pulses, strengthening barriers. I kept my senses sharp, noting every echo, every shadow, every subtle change in the pulse beneath my skin.
"Seris," Malrik said quietly, "you are stronger than most would admit. The artifact responds to more than your fear or hesitation—it senses your intent, your courage. That is why it chose you."
I swallowed, unsure if I should feel honored or terrified. "I never asked for this choice."
"Nor did I," he admitted, eyes darkening. "But the artifact is indifferent to wishes. Only alignment matters."
The bond pulsed again as we approached the inner sanctum, where the artifact's resonance was strongest. I could feel it like a second heartbeat beneath my skin, insistent, insatiable. Something within the palace stirred, responding to the growing tension outside, anticipating the next strike.
A soft chime echoed from the sanctum, sharp and deliberate. The artifact had registered movement—someone approaching. Not the intruder yet, but scouts. Shadows flitted along the walls, barely visible, their shapes twisting unnaturally.
Malrik's hand brushed mine, just a fleeting touch, yet it sent a warmth through me I wasn't expecting. "Stay alert," he murmured. "The first strike was only a warning. They will return."
I nodded, pulse quickening. "Then we strike first this time?"
His lips curved faintly. "We survive first. Strike second. Alignment before action."
The corridor ahead darkened, shadows pooling unnaturally, and I could feel the bond tighten in warning. The scouts—or agents of some unseen force—were testing our readiness. They moved silently, almost perfectly coordinated, their intent focused.
I swallowed hard and focused on the artifact, letting its pulse guide my awareness. The shadows shifted again, forming humanoid shapes, their movements deliberate, calculating. The bond pulsed sharply, protective and urgent, and I realized just how much of my survival now depended on the rhythm between Malrik, me, and the artifact.
One of the figures stepped forward, breaking from the shadows. A faint metallic glint caught my eye—a dagger, curved and sharp, aimed precisely.
Malrik's hand found mine, grounding me. The bond flared. "Now," he whispered.
We moved together. The palace itself seemed to respond, corridors bending subtly, light flaring from wards to disorient the scouts. The first figure faltered, caught between perception and reality.
I followed the pulse, instincts guided by the bond, and sidestepped the dagger, letting the palace channel the force harmlessly away. Malrik moved like a shadow of certainty, guiding, correcting, responding. The bond pulsed again—approval, recognition, alignment.
"Impressive," a voice hissed from the shadows. One of the scouts had recovered, eyes gleaming with malice. "They are stronger together than we anticipated."
I tightened my grip on the bond, letting it steady me, anchor me. "And we are just beginning," I said, more firmly than I expected.
The shadows writhed, recoiling slightly as if aware of the artifact's protective pulse. I felt a thrill—not fear, not triumph, but awareness. The bond had grown sharper, more insistent, more alive. And through it, I felt Malrik's intent, clear and undeniable.
"Seris," he said, voice low, "the next strike will come from within as much as without. Trust me. Trust the bond."
I nodded, pulse echoing in rhythm with the artifact, with him, with the palace. Whatever came next, we would face it together. The shadows might test us, the intruder might return, and the hunters might strike relentlessly—but the alignment, fragile and dangerous though it was, gave me something I had never known: confidence.
Not just to survive.
But to fight.
And to finally understand that in this dance of power, fear, and trust, the bond—between artifact, palace, and us—was the only thing that would tip the scales.