It grew quieter on the wall.
Only the distant noise of the city below remained, and the occasional sounds of the watch.
Blake's winds held Eiron suspended in the air. The grip tightened after the name was uttered. He did not resist. Did not try to break free. He simply watched.
And then he smiled.
The smile appeared slowly, with frank pleasure. And with it, the voice changed.
"You were always so predictable, Blake," he drawled. "Always rushing to take things under control."
The air around them shuddered.
Eiron's face became different—sharp, alien, distorted by something that was tearing its way outward.
"Enough," Blake said coldly. "Speak."
"Oh," she smirked. "You know how this works."
I peered out from behind Blake's back as far as I could. The air was stretched to its limit. It felt as though one more moment and it would snap.
Her gaze slid over me. Slowly. Intently.
"He was dying," Azal said. "On the battlefield. Lying in his own blood, on his final breath. Begging the gods for a second chance. Can you imagine? So strong. So righteous. And terrified of losing his life."
She laughed softly.
"And I was nearby. I found his body. Still warm. And I gave him a chance."
There was open delight in her voice.
"He didn't resist," she continued. "He couldn't. His body obeyed me. His will as well. Sometimes…"—she tilted her head slightly—"sometimes he broke through. But not for long."
At that moment her gaze fixed on me.
And there was accusation in it, as though I were the cause of all this.
I clenched my fists.
"Don't look like that," Azal said. "He was never free. Not for a second. Just a puppet."
"And you, Bian…" Her voice softened, became almost tender. "You shouldn't be so upset. Back then, in the alley, I was just standing there, waiting. Until the Avoddons finished with those little pups."
She smiled wider.
"Then I would have taken care of you. But I was interrupted. A couple of worthless soldiers saved you."
Something inside me snapped.
"You're not human!" I shouted, taking a step forward. "You're not even—"
My voice faltered. Everyone felt it. The bitterness and the memories of that day exploded inside me, leaving no room for air.
"Damn bitch—"
Blake grabbed me sharply, holding me back. His hand was firm, unyielding.
"Enough," he said quietly.
But there was enough force in that single word to make me stop.
Azal watched us with undisguised pleasure.
"Our greatest mistake," she went on, "was that we searched. Looked. Tested. Whether you were chosen or not."
She laughed. The laughter was thick, poisonous.
"We should have killed immediately. All the potential ones. Without hesitation."
I felt myself trembling.
Blake stepped forward, completely shielding me with his body.
"No matter how hard you try," he said, and his voice became colder than the stone beneath our feet, "I will not let you touch her with even a finger."
"Oh really?" Azal drawled.
At that moment, a noise sounded behind my back.
Sharp.
I didn't have time to turn.
Out of nowhere, a second Eiron appeared. A blade in his hand. He lunged toward me so swiftly that no one managed to react. Not even Blake.
At that same instant, an unfamiliar mage in blue armor struck him, knocking him off his feet. The second Eiron's body slammed onto the stone, but I had already recoiled, pressed against black armor. My head struck a stone chest, and darkness swam before my eyes.
And in that very second, at my ankle, a cutting, hellish pain flared.
The blade had still caught me. It grazed my leg, cutting through fabric and exposing the flesh beneath.
I groaned, clenching my teeth so as not to scream.
The pain was too real.
"Bian!"
I heard Blake's broken, frantic cry.
Consciousness returned in jolts. I lowered my gaze and saw blood.
I was yanked aside sharply, without ceremony.
It wasn't Roger? But someone of our own, I understood that. Because Blake's winds had not yet touched me.
Before me stood a light mage. Young. Dressed entirely in black, the armor clinging tightly to his body. Small crystals were scattered across the protection, catching the light and reflecting it in cold flashes. I hadn't noticed them at first—the impact had knocked the air from my lungs. Now I saw them clearly.
Light hair was cut short, neatly styled, without excessive severity. His face was composed, focused, too calm for the chaos around us. His gaze was direct, confident. He held me firmly, without hesitation.
Azal's laughter cut through the air.
"Even that will be enough to kill you," she spat venomously.
"Shit," Blake swore.
In the same moment, his winds finally lifted me and pulled me toward him. He knelt beside me, quickly examining the wound. His fingers were cold, but his movements smooth.
"Adel."
She extended her hand without delay. Light flared—pure, focused. And almost immediately went out.
Her gaze darkened.
"The poison is already in the blood," she said evenly.
Azal laughed, not hiding her pleasure.
"You're so clever. You know, Blake, I studied your capabilities well. Even with a water mage, this poison cannot be separated from the body."
She spoke slowly, savoring every word.
"I know your entire team. Every single one."
I shifted my gaze to where the second Eiron lay. A mage in blue armor was pressing him to the stone.
He was tall, solid, his movements fast and precise. The blue armor fit him closely, pale veins of magic running along the lines of protection. His face was sharp, open, with a tense jaw and attentive eyes. He did not take his gaze off the fallen one, controlling every breath he took.
"Narem," Blake commanded. "He needs to be delivered to the cage."
But Azal cut him off, laughing.
"Don't rush, my dear Blake. This is only the beginning of the fun."
The winds tightened around her neck. The stone beneath our feet creaked.
"Rhine," Blake ordered shortly.
The mage in black armor stood behind us. Silently. He moved as if through space itself. One blink of the eyes, and he was already beside us.
"You will regret this," Blake said.
His eyes darkened. Anger was close—but he kept it on a leash.
"You can't reach me," Azal laughed. "And you know it."
Her smile on Eiron's face stirred rage inside me.
"Let's begin the fun."
An explosion thundered on the eastern section of the wall.
Stone roared, dust shot upward. Almost immediately after, the southern section followed. We saw how, somewhere in the distance near the horizon, fire flared. Distant screams echoed through all the streets. And then the northern fell.
Smoke and fire rose from every side.
Except ours.
I froze.
The walls had fallen.
Those very walls that were meant to protect the city. The people. The children.