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~ C leo ~

Pain was the first thing I felt—a searing, all-consuming fire that coursed through every fiber of my being. It wasn't just physical; it was as if my very essence was being unraveled, thread by thread.

I opened my eyes to chaos.

The Rift loomed before me, a gaping wound in reality, its towering arch of obsidian and bone-white stone pulsing with malevolent energy. The runes etched into its surface flickered erratically, casting eerie shadows that danced like specters.

From within the Rift, horrors emerged—twisted, wraith-like creatures with limbs that defied anatomy, eyes that glowed with a hunger for destruction. They moved with a predatory grace, their forms shifting and undulating as they advanced.

Devin stood between me and the oncoming tide, his stance defiant despite the exhaustion etched into his features. Shadows coiled around him, a dark aura that both repelled and attracted the creatures.

I tried to rise, but my limbs were like lead. The ritual had drained me, siphoning my Starfire until only embers remained.

But then, amidst the cacophony, I felt it—a tether, fragile yet unbreakable, connecting me to Devin. It pulsed with a rhythm that wasn't mine alone. Our bond, though fractured, still existed.

I reached for it, drawing strength from the connection.

"Devin," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the din.

He turned, eyes meeting mine, and in that instant, understanding passed between us.

We couldn't defeat this darkness separately.

But together...

I summoned the remnants of my Starfire, the light within me flaring to life. Devin's shadows responded, intertwining with my light in a dance as old as time.

We moved as one, stepping towards the Rift. The creatures hesitated, sensing the shift in power.

Hand in hand, we channeled our energies, our souls merging in a harmony of light and shadow. The fusion was seamless, a perfect balance that neither overwhelmed nor diminished.

A blinding radiance erupted from us, a beacon that pushed back the encroaching darkness. The creatures shrieked, their forms disintegrating under the combined force of our magic.

The Rift trembled, its edges fraying as if reality itself sought to reject the abomination it had become.

With a final surge, we directed our unified power into the heart of the Rift. The runes on the arch flared brilliantly before dimming, the portal sealing with a resounding boom.

Silence fell.

We collapsed, the fusion dissipating, leaving us separate yet irrevocably changed.

Our bond was no longer just emotional—it was elemental.

We had become one to save our world.

Time unraveled.

I couldn’t tell where Devin ended and I began.

There was no breath, no heartbeat—only light and shadow interlaced so tightly, they became something new.

Something infinite.

I stood—no, we stood—fused in will, in power, in soul. One being. One pulse. Starfire and deathlight twined together in a perfect, terrible harmony.

The Rift screamed.

The arch flared with spiraling runes that twisted in pain, in resistance, in hunger. Creatures still poured through—fanged horrors with smoke for skin, memories for mouths, and claws made of regret. They lunged, shrieking.

I raised my hand.

So did he.

And we burned .

The light wasn’t gold.

The shadow wasn’t black.

It was both. Everything . We were the line between worlds, the blade drawn across a dying god’s throat, the promise that love could defy fate.

Our fused magic surged outward in a wave that seared the air, turning Shadowborne into ash and truth . They didn’t just die—they were unmade . Erased from the memory of the Rift itself.

They screamed as they vanished.

And still we pressed forward, toward the heart of the arch.

The runes resisted, flickering red and silver, groaning as we stepped into the threshold.

Then—we touched the stone.

With one hand.

Together.

The arch shuddered .

A burst of heat and chill erupted through the room as our joined magic branded itself into the stone, searing a new seal— our seal—into the very bones of the gate. Not a glyph. Not a rune.

A soulprint.

His mark.

Mine.

Interlocked, bound, eternal.

The Rift howled, the sound like the death of empires.

It tried to resist.

It fought us.

The arch cracked. The air trembled. Something vast and formless on the other side reached out?—

—and we said no.

Our joined magic flared brighter than the stars, a final detonation of light and dark that drove the godling scream back into its prison.

And then?—

Silence.

The runes went dark.

The archstone cooled beneath our hand.

The Rift… closed.

Not healed.

But contained.

Like a wound bandaged, still festering, still dangerous—but no longer bleeding into the world.

We collapsed in a heap of light and shadow and breath.

Two again.

But never the same.

~ Devin ~

I came back to myself with the taste of starlight in my mouth.

The floor was cold beneath me—stone veined with blood and ancient magic. My limbs felt foreign, heavy, too full and too empty all at once. My body remembered the fire. My soul remembered the light.

And when I closed my eyes…

I saw it.

Not shadow. Not the familiar comfort of darkness.

Light.

Warm. Golden. Endless.

I opened my eyes with a gasp, half expecting it to be a dream. But she was there. Lying beside me, her hair a tangle of burnished flame, her skin still glowing faintly with magic that wasn’t entirely her own anymore.

Cleo.

She stirred, a soft sound in the back of her throat. Her eyes fluttered open—and for a moment, I saw the Rift reflected in them. Depthless. Wild. Sacred.

She turned to me, and her voice was a whisper. “I can hear them.”

I reached for her hand. “Who?”

“The shadows.” Her fingers curled into mine. “They’re quiet. But they’re still there. Like they’re… watching.”

I should’ve panicked.

I didn’t.

Because I could feel it too.

Not the way she did—no whispers in the dark—but a presence . A tether. Our bond had snapped into place with a finality that went deeper than blood or vow.

We weren’t just connected.

We were fused.

Two souls no longer separate.

“I see light,” I said softly. “When I blink. When I breathe. Like your fire got stuck under my skin.”

She gave a small smile. “You’re welcome.”

A laugh escaped me, breathless and raw.

Footsteps echoed through the chamber.

Kassio emerged from the shadows at the edge of the hall, cloak torn, one arm bleeding, but upright. He looked at the Rift—silent, sealed—and then at us. His expression was unreadable.

“You two,” he said, his voice flat, “are either insane… or gods.”

“We’ve been called worse,” I muttered.

He knelt beside us and dropped a satchel between us. “Water. Salve. Runes to monitor your pulse.”

Cleo tilted her head. “No cupcakes?”

Kassio arched a brow. “You just fused your souls in front of a sleeping apocalypse and closed a gate no one’s touched since the Sundering. I think I get to skip the baked goods.”

Cleo grinned.

Kassio’s expression softened, just a touch. “The Tower is reeling. The Circle is fractured. But they saw it. What you did.”

He looked at the gate. Then at us.

“I declare you,” he said, standing tall, “the Watchers of the Rift.”

The words settled like truth in the air.

Heavy.

Binding.

Right.

Cleo’s grip tightened in mine.

As his voice echoed into silence, I turned my gaze back to the Rift.

It was closed.

But not quiet.

Not gone .

Deep inside, beyond the threshold where light and shadow had danced their final war, something stirred.

Not a creature.

Not a nightmare.

A will.

Awake.

Waiting.

Cleo felt it too—I saw it in her eyes.

It would come.

And when it did, we’d be ready.

Because now… we were more than cursed.

We were bound.

And we burned.

Together.