Thessia moved.
Her boots scraped against the stone as she strode toward Kailorien. Her glaive dripped black ichor, her braids hung in disarray, armor dented so badly it had fused to her pauldron. Blood streamed down her face in thin crimson ribbons. She knelt before Auryn.
“Moonbeam,” she said softly.
Auryn’s head jerked up, tears streaking the silver dust on her cheeks. Her eyes flew wide, as though sheknew—knew with certainty—what Thessia wanted to say.
“Wait—Thessia—don’t—you can’t—”
“Look at me," the Lioness commanded, taking Auryn's chin in her hand. Coaxing her still.
Their eyes met.
Riven…your legend was always nothing but a myth. But this woman…if I saw no other moonlight but the one in her eyes for the rest of my life, I'd die happy.
And with that, Thessia made her choice.
She reached behind her shoulder, found the slender violet-threaded braid that marked every woman of her bloodline, and wrapped her fingers around it. The hair was slick with smoke and blood, but it was still hers. Still the inheritance passed from mother to daughter for generations.
Still the last echo of a vow made long before she was born.
In one smooth, deliberate motion, Thessia drew her dagger and cut it off.
The braid fell into her palm with the weight of history. A spark of violet shimmered along the length of the ribbon. The room went silent. Even the poundingat the barricade seemed to pause, as if the world itself had taken a breath. She pressed the severed hair into Auryn’s trembling hand and curled her fingers around it.
“Be strong for me,” Thessia whispered. Her voice did not shake. “Be strong for menow.”
Auryn’s breath hitched. “Thessia—please—don’t do this—”
Thessia leaned forward until their foreheads touched. A gesture her mother once used. A gesture her grandmother said the Riven used with his sister, long before the world broke.
“Wait for me,” Thessia murmured. “I will find you again. Maybe not in this lifetime…but I swear it.”
Auryn broke. A soft, wounded sound tore from her chest as she clutched the braid like it was life itself. Tears soaked the violet thread.
Zarrek stepped forward then—gentle, despite the blood-soaked axe in his hand. He rested one broad palm on Auryn’s hair. “Live, little star,” he said. “Burn bright as you were meant to.”
Another blow struck the barricade—this one splintering the beam.
Time was up.
Thessia rose to her feet. Her muscles trembled with exhaustion, but her resolve was unshakeable. She turned to Kailorien, violet eyes blazing.
“Take her through the Veins,” she commanded.
Kailorien’s jaw flexed. “Thessia—”
“Take her, Shadeslayer.” Her voice dropped, colder than steel. “Or I will.”
Auryn twisted, crying out as the Resh’Agar tightened his hold, lifting her fully into his arms.
“NO—Thessia—NO! We can still fight—we can still—”
“You can,” Thessia said quietly. “And you will. But nothere.”
The door beam cracked fully. Claws punched through the widening gap. A Reskala screamed. Zarrek pivoted toward the breach, runes igniting along his arms, the heat of them scorched the air. Thessia stepped beside him and lowered into a ready stance. The Lioness and the Bloodletter—side by side, as they had never stood before. Talia stepped up beside her, eyes hard. Resolved.
"Keep blocking," Thessia said, "and I'll keep killing. Deal?"
