She released her power without restraint.
The Void Resonance poured through her in a destructive wave, burning through the air like a supernova compressed into human form. It sent both fragments flying. They crashed against the walls hard enough to crack stone.
They reformed on the opposite side of the chamber, and they were laughing.
"There she is," they said in unison. "There's the real Void Bearer."
"I choose mercy," Liriel said coldly. "But I will destroy you if you force my hand."
"You can't destroy me," the fragments said. "I'm just a message. Kessian sent me to tell you that he's coming. That the ritual will take place in one week. And that he still wants you to join him, but he's prepared for you to refuse."
The fragments dissolved into shadows that had no substance.
"A week," Kael said, pulling himself up from the floor. His arm was badly burned. "We have one week to figure out how to stop him."
"We can't," Seraph said flatly. "Kessian has gotten powerful enough to send conscious fragments of himself across vast distances. He can split his awareness and maintain multiple bodies simultaneously. We're not equipped to face that."
Liriel looked at her companions—both bleeding, both frightened, but still willing to stand beside her.
"We need to perform dual cultivation," she said.
"What?" Kael asked. "Liriel, you don't mean—"
"The forbidden technique where two cultivators merge their cores completely," Liriel said. "It's dangerous, and it's forbidden, but it would give us a power advantage we don't currently have."
"It would also bind us together permanently," Seraph pointed out. "If one dies, all of us die. Is that what you want?"
"Yes," Liriel said. "Because that's how we stop Kessian. Not by being stronger individually, but by being bound together so completely that we're unbreakable. Love is power when it's given freely and received with gratitude."
Kael moved to her. "Are you sure?"
"No," Liriel said honestly. "But I'm certain that anything less than this won't be enough."
Kael stepped forward and took her hand.
"Then let's do this," he said quietly. "Let's bind ourselves to each other."
They prepared the ritual in the temple's inner sanctum. The walls were covered with inscriptions—paths for power to flow, anchors for the merged consciousness to hold onto, wards designed to contain the kind of raw spiritual energy that would be released.
Seraph took the role of anchor. It was the most dangerous position because if something went wrong, she would be the one caught in the backlash.
She took it without hesitation.
"If you're going to do this," she said, "then I'm going to make sure you survive it."
Liriel and Kael sat facing each other in the center of the circle. They took each other's hands. Their eyes met.
"I love you," he said. "I need you to know that before we do this. I love you, and I'm terrified, and I'm going to do this anyway because you're worth any risk."
"I love you too," Liriel said. "And I'm scared. And I'm grateful. And I'm going to spend the rest of our lives making sure you never regret this choice."
Then they opened their cores to each other.
The sensation was beyond description. It was like two rivers merging. All of her consciousness flowed into his, all of his flowed into her, until there was no clear boundary between where she ended and he began.
She felt his memories flooding through her mind. She experienced his childhood being groomed as an heir, felt the weight of expectation crushing down on him. She felt the moment when he first saw her and felt his heart break.
She felt his fears and his love. The fierce, desperate love that was willing to walk into fire.
There were moments of profound intimacy—moments where she understood that he had chosen her. Not her power, not her destiny. Her.
And there were moments of painful honesty. She saw that part of him that was selfish, that wanted to keep her for himself. He saw that part of her that was arrogant, that believed her way was the only right way.
But through it all, they remained themselves. They didn't become one person—they became two people so perfectly aligned that they could act as one when necessary.
When the ritual completed, they opened their eyes to find that hours had passed. Seraph was still standing at the boundary of the circle, exhausted but solid, holding the ritual in place. Tears streamed down her face.
Liriel pulled Kael into an embrace. They stood together, fundamentally changed. They could feel each other's presence constantly now—as natural as their own heartbeat, as essential as breathing.
"How do you feel?" Seraph asked.
"Different," Liriel said. "Stronger. More complete."
"Can you sense Kessian?" Kael asked.
"Yes," Liriel said. "He's preparing for something massive. The ritual—it's not weeks away. It's days. Maybe less."
"Then we need to move," Seraph said. "You need to find him and face him while you still have the advantage."