Page 33 of Crowned by the Shadow (Bound by the Veil #5)

Chapter

Twenty-One

Senara

I stood in the heart of the cosmic prison, my body still thrumming from channeling all that power.

The void, or corruption, or whatever it was, hovered before us like a sentient storm cloud, seeking a new host after being separated from the Moon Goddess.

Its tendrils reached outward, testing, searching, hungry for power.

“We need to contain it,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “Before it finds another vessel.”

As if responding to my words, the darkness pulsed and surged toward us. Thorn stepped closer to me, his presence an anchor in this chaos. Wyn’s twilight magic created a temporary barrier, but I could see the strain on her face as she fought to maintain it.

“The void cannot be destroyed,” the Moon Goddess said, her newly restored voice like silver bells. “Only balanced, contained.”

Van nodded, his golden radiance dimming slightly as exhaustion caught up with him. “It is part of the cosmic order, however twisted it has become.”

Before I could respond, the mists around us shifted. The Aetherweavers we’d encountered at the threshold reappeared, but something was different about them. Their forms seemed more substantial, more defined, and strangely familiar.

“Eclipse Child,” one said, stepping forward. “You have succeeded where we failed.”

I studied the being more closely. There was something about the eyes, the tilt of the head...

“Fiona,” I whispered, recognition dawning. “You’re Fiona.”

The Aetherweaver inclined her head, and as she did, her features became clearer. The resemblance to my own face was unmistakable. She had the same high cheekbones, the same determined set of the jaw. Another Eclipse Child, from centuries past, yet eerily similar to me.

“Yes,” she confirmed. “Or what remains of her.”

The other Aetherweavers moved forward, their forms shifting and clarifying. Each one bore some resemblance to me, some subtle, some striking. Different faces, different eras, but all carrying the same burden.

“We are what remains of those who came before,” another said, her ancient eyes holding mine. “The fragments of Eclipse Children who faced the Empress and failed.”

The revelation hit me like a punch to the gut. “You’re... all of you...”

“We are what remains, we are what the Void Dragon Empress referred to as sacrifices,” Fiona repeated.

“When an Eclipse Child failed to restore balance, their essence was not destroyed but fragmented. We became guardians of the threshold, witnesses to the cycle, bound to this place until the balance is restored.”

I looked at each of them, these echoes of past lives, past attempts. How many had tried? How many had failed? The weight of their collective sacrifice pressed down on me.

“And now?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Now we can rest,” Fiona said, a smile of profound relief crossing her ethereal features. “You have succeeded where we could not. The Moon Goddess is restored, the corruption separated.”

“But not contained,” I pointed out, glancing at the writhing darkness that Wyn still held at bay. “It’s still a threat.”

“Yes,” another Aetherweaver agreed. “Which brings us to the final truth, the one we were forbidden to reveal until this moment.”

Thorn’s hand found mine, squeezing gently. Whatever was coming, we would face it together.

“The cosmic balance requires a guardian,” Fiona said, her voice heavy with the weight of ages. “Someone to maintain an equilibrium between light and darkness, between creation and destruction. Someone who understands both, who can channel both without being consumed by either.”

“An Eclipse Child,” I said, understanding dawning.

“Yes,” she confirmed. “But not as a mortal being. The power required... it would transform you.”

The Moon Goddess stepped forward, her silver light washing over me. “The corruption must have a vessel, one strong enough to contain it without being overwhelmed. One who can balance it with light.”

“You’re saying I need to become that vessel,” I said, not a question but a statement of fact. “To become the new guardian. Won’t that make me the new Void Dragon Empress?”

“Not quite. You are not a dragon, nor are you an empress. That being said, it is what we were all born for,” Fiona replied softly. “The ultimate purpose of the Eclipse Child. To ascend, to become the guardian of balance for all realms.”

“For how long?” Thorn demanded, his voice tight with fear.

Fiona’s eyes held mine, compassion and understanding shining in their depths. “Eternity,” she answered. “Or until the cycle begins anew.”

The enormity of it crashed over me. Eternity as a cosmic guardian, separated from the mortal realm, from everyone I loved. From Thorn.

“There must be another way,” he insisted, his grip on my hand tightening.

“There is not,” another Aetherweaver said. “We all sought alternatives. We all failed.”

“And your failure created this,” I gestured to their fragmented forms. “This half-existence.”

“Yes,” Fiona admitted. “When we refused our destiny, when we tried to find another path, the balance shattered. Our essence was fragmented, bound to this place as witnesses and guides for those who would come after.”

“And if I refuse?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.

“Then the corruption will seek another host, one less prepared, less capable of maintaining balance. It will spread across all realms, consuming everything in its path. And you will join us, another fragment in an endless cycle of failure.”

I closed my eyes, feeling the weight of countless lives, past and future, resting on my shoulders. The Twilight Crown hummed against my brow, a reminder of the power I now wielded, the responsibility I now bore.

“I need to think,” I said, my voice surprisingly steady.

“There is little time,” Fiona warned. “The corruption grows more frantic with each moment, and the barriers between realms are at their weakest.”

I turned to Thorn, my heart breaking at the pain in his eyes. “I don’t want to leave you,” I whispered.

“Then don’t,” he said fiercely. “We’ll find another way. We always do.”

The Moon Goddess approached, her newly restored radiance casting long shadows. “The choice must be yours, Eclipse Child. But know this: to become the guardian is not to cease existing. It is to transcend, to become more than you are now.”

“But I would be separated from the mortal realm,” I said. “From those I love.”

“Not entirely,” she replied. “The guardian moves between realms, maintaining balance wherever it is needed. You would not be confined to this prison, but free to travel the cosmic threads.”

A small comfort, but not enough. Not when it meant leaving behind the life I’d fought so hard to build, the people who had become my family.

I looked at my companions, at Thorn with his unwavering love, at Wyn with her newfound balance, at Ronan, Van, and Volker, each one having sacrificed so much to reach this point.

Could I ask them to sacrifice more? Could I ask them to accept my ascension, my transformation into something beyond mortal understanding?

“There must be a way,” I said again, more to myself than to them, as desperation clawed at me. “A way to maintain balance without losing myself completely.”

Fiona’s expression softened. “That was my thought as well, once. I sought to channel the power through artifacts, through rituals, through anything but myself. In the end, my hesitation cost everything.”

“But you didn’t have what I have,” I said, an idea forming in my mind. “You didn’t have a soul bond.”

Thorn’s head snapped up, hope flaring in his eyes. “Our bond,” he said. “It’s sustained us through everything else.”

I turned to the Moon Goddess and Van. “Could it work? Could our soul bond allow us to share this burden, to maintain balance together rather than alone?”

They exchanged a glance, something unspoken passing between them. “It has never been attempted,” the goddess admitted. “But a soul bond such as yours... it creates a bridge between two essences, a harmony that might indeed support the weight of guardianship.”

“If we shared it,” Thorn said, his voice gaining strength, “neither of us would be consumed entirely. We would anchor each other, keep each other human even as we became something more.”

The Aetherweavers murmured among themselves, their translucent forms shimmering with uncertainty. “It is unprecedented,” Fiona said. “But not impossible.”

“The risk would be great,” another warned. “If the bond failed under the strain, both souls would be lost, fragmented beyond recovery.”

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Thorn said without hesitation. “If it means staying with Senara, I would risk anything.”

I stared at him, my heart swelling with love and gratitude. Even now, facing the unknown, he chose to stand with me. To share my burden, my destiny.

“And I would risk anything to stay with you,” I told him. “But are you sure? This isn’t what you signed up for when we formed our bond.”

His laugh was soft but genuine. “I signed up for everything. All of you, and all that comes with loving you. This is just another adventure, another challenge we face together.”

I turned back to the Aetherweavers, my decision made. “We’ll do it together. We’ll become the guardians, maintain the balance as one.”

Fiona studied us for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “Perhaps this is why you succeeded where we failed. Your bond gives you strength we never had, a connection that transcends normal limitations.”

The other Aetherweavers gathered around us, their forms beginning to glow with inner light. “Then let it be so,” Fiona said, her voice resonating with power. “The Eclipse Child and her bonded shall ascend together, becoming the guardians of cosmic balance.”

The Moon Goddess stepped forward, her hands outstretched. “Are you certain? Once begun, this cannot be undone.”

Thorn and I looked at each other, our fingers intertwined. “We’re certain,” I said, speaking for both of us.