The Raven God walked barefoot through the ashes of the Veritas Circle like he had once ruled it. Maybe he had.
“Balance is broken,” he said.
“The Bone Crown is gone. The Tree is burned. And the old ways scream to return.”
Kaydence narrowed his eyes. “You wanted this, didn’t you?”
“I wanted freedom,” the god said simply. “You gave it to me.”
Seina stepped forward. “What do you want now?”
“A throne. One that only blood can build.”
“I destroyed the Bone Crown. There’s nothing left.”
“Oh, Seina…” He chuckled. “You are the crown.”
The wind howled.
In the silence that followed, Kaydence said nothing.
His hand brushed over the mark on his arm—the triangle still burned there, no longer glowing, but aching.
Seina noticed. “Kay…”
“I feel it,” he whispered. “Like it’s crawling under my skin.”
The Raven God smiled.
“The oath you swore still binds you. Even after the crown shattered, the mark lives on. You are hers. Or… you end her.”
Seina’s eyes flared. “No. That’s not the only way.”
“You were never meant to survive this,” the god said.
“You were the weapon. He was the key.”
Kaydence looked torn.
Shattered.
Then—
He stepped away from her.
“Kaydence.” Her voice cracked.
“I love you,” he said.
“But if the price of keeping you alive is becoming the monster I swore to fight… then maybe I already am.”
He turned his blade toward himself.
Seina screamed.
The Raven God clapped. “Beautiful. Pain always makes a better ending.”
But Kaydence didn’t strike.
He dropped the blade.
Looked at Seina.
And whispered, “Run.”
Then he lunged at the god.
The impact lit the sky.
Seina didn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Could only watch as Kaydence tackled the creature over the edge of the cliff—into the sea that devoured everything.
“No!” she screamed.
But it was done.
The storm silenced.
The god was gone.
And so was he.
Seina fell to her knees, fists clenched in the ash.
The crown was gone.
The boy was gone.
But the war was finally, finally over.
A whisper rose from the sea:
“Your move, Scarlet Veil.”
And across the world, thrones trembled.
The sea was too quiet.
Seina stood at the edge of the cliff where Kaydence vanished, the spray of salt water kissing her skin like a ghost’s touch. The world felt suspended—like even time was waiting to see what she would do next.
She didn’t cry.
Not yet.
Not until she knew.
The wind whispered his name: Kaydence.
Behind her, the ruins of the Veritas Circle still smoldered. Vultures fled. The god was gone. But her world remained shattered.
And the raven?
It returned.
Dead this time.
Floating in the waves below, one wing snapped like a broken omen.
Seina didn’t return to the mainland.
Not right away.
Instead, she climbed back into the heart of the Circle, past the bloodstained stones and shattered relics, to the one place no one dared go—the Mirror Chamber.
It had been sealed for centuries.
Until now.
Her hands pressed against the ancient markings. The door groaned open like it was reluctant.
Inside: nothing but darkness.
And one glowing mirror.
The glass shimmered with shifting faces—some she recognized. Her mother. Miro. Annora. Even herself as a child.
But none of them mattered.
She said his name once.
“Kaydence.”
The mirror flared.
His reflection flickered into view—pale, soaked, unconscious… alive.
Her hands slammed against the surface. “Let me in!”
The mirror whispered: What will you give?
“Anything.”
Blood.
She didn’t hesitate. Drew her blade. Sliced her palm.
The glass drank it.
And opened.
The realm beyond was not earth.
It was not death.
It was something in between—where lost souls wandered, chained by memory and unfinished vows. The Veilside.
Seina stepped barefoot through the mist.
It clung to her skin like grief.
“Kaydence!” she called.
No answer.
Until a whisper rose behind her: “You shouldn't be here.”
She turned.
And saw him.
He stood barefoot, his eyes void-black, his arms covered in runes that pulsed like veins.
But it was him.
Kaydence.
Or what remained.
He stepped forward. “You crossed the veil for me?”
“Of course I did,” she whispered. “I told you—I’d fight gods.”
He looked at his hands. “I don’t feel… alive.”
“You’re not. Yet.”