The shadows of the Labyrinth didn't just feel like darkness; they felt like heavy, wet silk. As the Elder God's tendrils dragged Elara deeper into the collapse, Lyraki's roar was the last thing she heard before the world turned into a silent, violet-tinted void.
But she wasn't alone.
In the center of the darkness, a woman stood. She wore a dress of shimmering silver that seemed to be woven from starlight, and her hair flowed like a river of ink. She didn't look like a prisoner or a victim. She looked like a Queen who had been waiting for a very long time.
"Elara," the woman whispered. Her voice didn't come through the air; it vibrated inside Elara's very soul.
"Mother?" Elara's breath hitched. She reached out, but her hand passed through the woman like smoke.
"I am but a fragment, my little echo," her mother said, her eyes the same violet as Elara's, filled with a heartbreaking sadness. "A memory left behind in the 'Whisper' to guide you when the truth finally came to light."
Elara's mind reeled. "Father said he bred me. He said you were just a tool for the prophecy. Is it true? Was our entire life a lie?"
Her mother stepped forward, and for a second, Elara felt a phantom warmth on her cheek. "Thorne is a man blinded by greed, Elara. He thinks he orchestrated fate, but fate is a river, and he is merely a pebble trying to change its course. I did not stay with him because of his power. I stayed because I saw you."
The vision shifted. Elara saw a younger version of her mother, fleeing from a different kingdom a place of tall white spires and silver roses. She was a High Seer of the Eastern Witches, a bloodline that had protected the Moonstone for millennia.
"The Eastern Witches were being hunted by the Void," her mother explained. "I fled to the Redwood Pack because I thought a werewolf Alpha could hide me. I thought Thorne's strength would be my shield. I was wrong. He didn't want to protect me; he wanted to harness the power of our unborn child."
"Then why didn't you leave? Why did you stay until the end?"
"Because the 'Whisper' told me that if I took you away, the Void would find you before you were ready. You needed the protection of a King, but you weren't meant for Thorne. You were meant for the Obsidian Throne." Her mother's image began to flicker, the silver light turning dim. "Your father thinks he created a weapon. But I created a savior. You have my blood, Elara. The blood of the Eastern Seers. You don't just read minds you can command the very fabric of reality."
"How do I get out?" Elara cried, as the black shadows began to close in again. "Lyraki is out there, and the Labyrinth is falling!"
"The Mark, Elara. Use the Mark," her mother commanded, her voice fading. "He is your anchor. He is the Earth, and you are the Moon. Pull on the thread. Pull him to you!"
With a final, desperate surge of will, Elara focused on the pulsing heat on her neck. She didn't look for the exit; she looked for the golden thread of Lyraki's soul. She grabbed it with her mind and pulled.
The darkness shattered.
Elara's eyes snapped open. She was back in the crumbling Labyrinth. Rocks were falling everywhere, but a massive shadow loomed over her. Lyraki was holding up a falling limestone pillar with his bare back, his muscles screaming, his eyes a terrifying, glowing red.
"Elara!" he choked out, the weight of the mountain threatening to crush him. "Run!"
She didn't run. She stood up, her violet aura exploding outward, turning the falling debris into harmless dust before it could touch them. She reached out and touched his chest, her power flowing into him, healing his strained muscles instantly.
"We don't run anymore," she said, her voice sounding like thunder. "My mother didn't raise a victim, and the King of Obsidian doesn't bow to falling rocks."
Together, they walked out of the collapsing Labyrinth as the Sun-Drenched Isles shook. Thorne was gone, but the truth was now clear. The war wasn't just about the shards; it was about Elara finally claiming the throne her mother had hidden in her blood.