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The chanting evoked a rush of memories, assaulting her mind—flashes of their kingdom, the smell of salt and sun, and the relentless roar of the sea crashing against every shore.

Esmyra’s body began to ache, her tendons stretching and twisting.

And then the pain moved to her heart. Her very blood had turned to liquid flame—a hot, searing agony that spread outward, igniting her bones one by one as her mortal form felt like it was shattering into tiny shards beneath the raw power.

Her hands gripped the sides of the altar, and she leaned forward, nearly collapsing over the remains as magic reshaped her from the inside out. She risked a peek at her sister to find her writhing in pain alongside her, both of their mortal forms breaking under the agony.

Esmyra cried out, the power filling her with an unbearable pressure, resembling a dam about to break. Her vision blurred, and she staggered back, forcing herself to breathe through the pain as her heart threatened to burst through her ribcage.

But she refused to falter—never again would she yield.

Gritting her teeth, she clutched the edge of the stone and welcomed the anguish as it forged her mortal body into something eternal—something divine.

With a sudden burst, the ancient bones dissolved into light, a soft, steady glow that lifted itself from the stone and drifted to each of them. That power surged to their limbs, placing itself atop the runes marking their flesh before seeping into them, binding them to those forms.

A mixture of euphoria and torment flooded Esmyra, a tear in the fabric of her being that left her both gasping and writhing as the essence of those remains merged with her mortal flesh.

Esmyra opened her eyes to find her body glowing faintly with a silver-blue light, shimmering like moonlight on waves—while the glow of Syrena’s skin radiated the soft hues of dawn over the ocean’s surface.

Her flesh then burned with an icy heat, her mortal shell feeling as if it was melting from her bones.

And then, it happened.

The energy within them reached a breaking point, and with a sudden, deafening bellow, they erupted outward in a violent burst of light. Blinding power surged from their bodies in an uncontrollable wave.

The acolytes who lined the crypt’s walls screamed, their cries cut short as the raw power incinerated them, leaving nothing but ashes swirling in the charged air.

The two stone altars cracked and crumbled under the sheer force of the eruption, fragments scattering across the stone floor. The tomb’s walls groaned, straining to contain the unleashed power while fractures raced up the stone.

Esmyra and Syrena stood at the center of the inferno of power—their silver and golden hair billowing at the force of an unseen wind.

And then, everything came to a halt, the world itself pausing. The glow in their eyes was sharp and unyielding, remaining locked on each other as everything settled.

The silence that followed was deafening.

The twins stood amidst the destruction, the room scorched and lifeless save for the crackling energy that still danced around them—Esmyra felt it skittering across her flesh like crackles of lightning. Ashes swirled in the air, settling like snow upon the shattered remains of the chamber.

Her senses expanded—vision and hearing sharper and stronger than she thought imaginable. The room was silent, but the ocean beyond the dome seemed to pulse in acknowledgment, drawn to their power.

Esmyra staggered back from the altar, her breath coming in shallow gasps as the last traces of the divine power surged into her.

She blinked rapidly, trying to adjust to the overwhelming sensation coursing through her body.

Her hands trembled as she raised them in front of her, her eyes widening in disbelief.

Her once-black hair was now blue at the roots, spilling over her shoulders like liquid silver as it glinted faintly in the dim, fractured light of the chamber. It was exactly as it had been in her vision, the day Maerinys fell.

Esmyra’s gaze dropped to her arms and found the runes adorning her skin were not only glowing, but swirling . It was as if they were alive, shifting and flowing like the tides as lines of silver and deep blue intertwined.

She lifted her hands higher, watching in awe as tiny sparks ignited at her fingertips, crackling and popping like miniature storms. They leapt from one finger to the next, arcs of silver and pale blue lightning that left faint trails in the air.

The power was raw, untamed—just as she was.

“I’m… I’m …” Esmyra stammered, unable to finish the thought. She looked at her sister, searching for the words.

Syrena stepped closer, pulsating with steady, controlled power. The queen’s golden hair now held pink-hued roots, like the sun setting on the sea, as her tattoos swirled in pink and gold to match. “Hello, Kaelypso ,” she purred.

Esmyra’s breath hitched. “It’s real,” she murmured. She stared at her glowing hands, the sparks now crawling up her arms, igniting faint ripples of energy along the swirling tattoos. “Kaelypso’s tits. ”

“I wouldn’t say that anymore if I were you,” Syrena said with a chuckle.

Esmyra smirked. “Old habits and all.” She winked, but then her smile fell, disbelief taking over once again. “It’s all real.”

“It is,” Syrena said, her aura casting a warm glow across the destruction surrounding them. “This is who we are, Esmyra. This is what was stolen from us by their greed.”

Esmyra looked back down at herself, her blue and silver hair catching the merlight as she moved, her tattoos shifting and glowing like living sigils.

She flexed her fingers, and the sparks intensified, crackling with a sound that resonated from within her.

Her lips curved into a faint, almost hesitant smile.

She glanced around, noting there was nothing left of the council. “We killed them.” A note of horror crept into her voice as she glanced at the empty robes and ashes scattered on the ground.

“They served their purpose. They knew the risks,” Syrena said, her tone colder now. She stepped closer, reaching out to grasp Esmyra’s shoulders. “The realm itself shook as we were reborn, announcing what’s to come.”

Esmyra met her sister’s stare, still working to catch her breath as she adjusted to the power pulsating through her veins. “And the gods who betrayed us? Do you think they’ll know what we’ve become?”

Syrena nodded, a subtle smirk tilting the edge of her lips. “All of Rymelle would have felt what just occurred.”

Draevyn .

Her breathing finally steadied, her back straightening. “Then let them tremble,” Esmyra said softly, a grin forming. “Let them know we’re coming.”

The crypt seemed to pulse in response to her words. Any doubts that had lingered in Esmyra’s mind were gone, burned away by the sparks at her fingertips and the tides surging in her veins.

Together, Kaelypso and Naerysa would be unstoppable.

And all of Rymelle would soon know it.