The chamber was ancient.
Deep underground, carved from obsidian and bone, lit by flickering braziers that burned without flame.
The air was thick with old spells and whispers that echoed from unseen walls.
Eugene stepped forward slowly, his boots crunching against the brittle remains of something long dead.
She was waiting for him.
Morgonna.
Cloaked in black velvet and starlight, her fade blonde hair cascading like smoke over her shoulders.
Her eyes glowed faintly—not with warmth, but with promise.
"So," she said, her voice like honey over broken glass, "you finally found me, that noise of yours sure is somthing."
"You pretend as if you deliberately didn't eave your scent open."
Eugene's jaw was tight. "I came for answers. Nothing more."
Her smile widened. "And perhaps… a bargain, for one fallen celestial ?"
His breath hitched, but he stayed firm. "Don't."
"Oh, but you want to," she purred. "You want him back. You ache to fix what was so cruelly took from you."
He flinched. " Because of you—"
Her smile deepened.
"AH.. but I can bring him back, you know. Whole. Breathing. Yours."
His fists clenched, magic rippling at his fingertips. "I won't help you kill my family."
She laughed softly. "My dear nephew… I would never ask such a thing."
He stared at her. "Don't call me that."
"But you are," she said, circling him slowly. "Your mother's son. Your father's blood. And mine, in a way—we both descended from the same chaos, the same magic."
The air changed.
A shadow stepped into the room.
Eugene turned, instincts flaring.
Mordred.
Blond hair tousled in war born waves. Emerald eyes—too familiar—gleamed under the torchlight.
His armor pulsed faintly with old magic, veins of obsidian running along his skin like cracks in a statue.
"Hello, cousin," Mordred said, his grin sharp and crooked.
Eugene stared. Now getting a closer look at him.
They looked like mirrors that had been warped—same noble features, same eyes.
But where Eugene's glow was light and fire, Mordred's was cold steel and ruin.
"I was wondering when you'd show up," Mordred added. "Grief does strange things to a man. Brings out the best…" He tilted his head. "…or the worst."
"Don't speak to me about grief —" Eugene said coldly.
"Who else would know." He stepped closer. " I have lived and died , In each final breathe, I watched my mother mourned me each time..because your beloved parents.."
Eugene's magic surged. "Stay back."
" Maybe I should bring your head to her instead—wouldn't that be a sight .."
Morgonna stepped between them with a lazy flick of her wrist.
"Boys," she said softly, almost teasing. "We're family now, aren't we? No need to fight… yet."
Eugene's voice was low. "What do you want from me?"
Morgonna's smile turned serpentine. "Only what you want, my sweet boy. I can give you back everything. All I need… is your trust."
Eugene's breath shook, his eyes flicking to Mordred, then back to the woman who once tried to destroy his mother.
And the silence that followed was a razor's edge.
The chamber pulsed with ancient magic.
Morgonna stood before a vast runic circle etched into the stone floor, her hands coated in red and gold markings. Mordred stood at its center, his body flickering like an unstable flame—part man, part revenant.
His power was immense, but cracked, as if it had been borrowed from something that couldn't sustain it.
Morgonna turned to Eugene, her voice low and reverent.
"My power is fading. The spell I used to tether Mordred… was never meant to last. But you—"
She stepped closer, her fingers almost trembling with hunger.
"Your magic, Eugene… it is the strongest I've ever felt. You are a wellspring, deeper than even your mother or father even merlin… With your help—just once—I can bind him completely. Make him whole."
Eugene's eyes never left her. "And in return?"
She smiled, the expression too soft to be trusted. "I will give you the Secret of Restoration. The spell to bring life back… to your beloved."
His heart thundered.
"Only once?" he asked, voice tight.
"Once," she said, offering her hand. "One spell. One tie. Then the secret is yours."
Mordred stood still, his unreadable gaze on Eugene, like a sword waiting to be drawn.
Eugene looked at Morgonna's hand… then at Julian's ring tied around his neck.
Then he reached out.
Their hands met.
A shockwave of power burst from their palms—red and gold swirling, twining, binding.
A crimson sigil branded itself into their skin. A contract of blood.
It was done.
The ritual began.
Runes lit across the stone. Mordred cried out, his body lifting into the air as magic from Eugene poured into the circle—his power, wild and brilliant, more than Morgonna ever imagined. Mordred's fractured soul was sealed into the flesh completely, the cracks vanishing as light pulsed through him.
When it was done, Mordred landed on the floor—solid. Alive. Whole.
Eugene staggered back, drained but standing.
He turned to Morgonna, fire in his eyes.
"Now. The spell. The secret."
Morgonna tilted her head.
"Of course," she said silkily. "But there is one last ingredient."
Eugene's gaze sharpened.
"The Fae King's heart."
Silence.
Eugene's blood ran cold. "…What?"
"To restore life fully," Morgonna said, stepping closer, "you need the living heart of one touched by eternal magic. The Fae King's heart is bound to the threads of time—it can anchor the soul you wish to return."
Eugene's hands trembled, fists clenching.
"You didn't say—"
"I told you," Morgonna said, her smile widening, "I would give you the spell. I never said it wouldn't come with a price."
Mordred's voice echoed behind him, quiet and cruel: "We all pay for love, cousin."
Eugene's heart thundered. The plan was forming—terrible and sharp.
And this time… the blood would not only be on her hands.
It would be on his..