---
"I can feel it…" I whispered hoarsely, clutching the folds of my robe now stained with blood. "The curse… it's starting to seep from the bone."
Aldric spun swiftly, shielding my view from the figure now standing at the end of the stone corridor—a silver-robed figure whose face was hidden behind a black metal mask. His breathing was heavy, like air strained from a world long devoid of life.
"That's him," Aldric murmured. "The last guardian. The origin bloodkeeper."
I gave a slow nod, though my legs could barely move. A strange tremor crept up my spine—not fear, but a betrayal rooted in blood.
"Seraphine Valeria," the guardian spoke, his voice like the ring of a sword drawn from its sheath. "Or... Elara."
Both Aldric and I stiffened.
"You know who I am?" I asked slowly.
The guardian chuckled. "There is no cursekeeper who does not know you. You are the source of it all. The pioneer, the traitor, and the savior."
His steps made the stone tiles tremble. "But you are also... the only one who can end this."
Aldric drew his sword. "If you know that, then you know we will not back down."
The guardian tilted his head. "That's precisely why… I'm here."
Suddenly, from the ground, hands made of shadow burst forth. They seized our ankles, pulling like starving mud. I screamed, struggling to break free, but the more I resisted, the tighter their grip became.
"Shadows of the past," the Guardian said. "They will judge whether you are worthy to remember everything—or die with half the truth."
Suddenly, a burst of red light flared from my palm. Elara. A fragment of her soul writhed and rebelled. And from the light emerged a shadow—Elara in her true form, bloodied and radiant, standing beside me.
"Don't touch her," Elara said, her voice sharper than ever. "I will face those shadows."
"No," I said. "I must do this myself. If this curse is mine, then I must be the one to destroy it."
Elara looked at me for a long moment, then nodded. She placed her palm on my chest. "Then take all of my memories. Take all of my guilt. Remember who we are. Remember what we've done."
An explosion of light enveloped me. Images flooded my mind—Elara standing at an altar, drinking Aldric's blood from long ago. Elara setting the palace aflame to save Aldric from the King of Astoria. Elara crying as she watched Aldric fall to the curse's magic.
And then… Elara sealing herself within blood magic, hoping that one day… love could be redeemed by a new soul.
I staggered. My knees hit the stone floor, but Aldric caught me.
"Seraphine?" he whispered, but I saw the change in his eyes. Not fear. But recognition.
"I remember," I said, my voice heavy. "Everything."
"And now you know who our real enemy is?"
I looked at the guardian. And I knew.
"He's not a guardian. He's the binder of the curse. He keeps the root of the magic alive."
The guardian raised his staff. "And now that you know the truth... you must choose. Stay alive, and let the curse flow into the next generation… or die here, and I will carry your soul into the eternal circle."
Aldric stepped forward. "We have a third path."
"There is no third path," said the Guardian. "That is the illusion of weak humans who cannot accept fate."
"You're wrong," I said. "Because I am no longer just Elara. I'm not just Seraphine. I am both. And I… refuse to choose between death or regret."
I extended my hands, and Elara's light merged into my chest. Golden fire exploded from my body, burning away the shadow hands that gripped our legs.
"Seraphine!" Aldric shouted.
"Trust me!" I called back.
With that light, I charged at the cursekeeper. His staff blocked, sending out waves of red magic that sliced the air. Screams of trapped souls echoed from beyond the walls, from dimensions unseen.
The battle had begun.
Aldric leapt, his sword clashing against the magical staff. Light and blood burst through the air. I attacked from the side, channeling Elara's blood magic into the swirling black vortex in the sky.
"He's summoning the old souls!" Aldric shouted.
"I know!" I pushed my magic deeper until the dimensional rift opened. From within emerged spirits of the past—women who had once been bound by the curse. They wept, calling my name.
"You must release us…"
I spread my arms. "You will be free."
But the Guardian struck. His staff pierced my abdomen, and I staggered. Blood gushed from my body. Elara screamed from within my mind.
"DON'T DIE!"
Aldric struck his sword against the Guardian's mask, cleaving it in half. Beneath it, we saw his face—Aldric's face… but older. Scarred. Eyes hollow.
"I am… the version of you that failed," the Guardian told Aldric. "The one who let Elara die, and was cursed to guard this forever."
Aldric froze.
"If you kill me… then you take my place."
I wrapped my arms around Aldric from behind. "Don't listen to him. We are not the past. We are us. We are different."
Aldric lowered his gaze. "Then how do we end this?"
I looked at my bleeding wound. "With blood. But not cursed blood."
Then I understood.
"Aldric, we must merge. You and I. Soul and blood. Like before… but with a new will."
He shook his head. "It could kill you."
"But it could save every soul that's trapped."
He met my gaze. "Then… we do it together."
We held hands. Light enveloped us, ancient magic writhing. I saw Elara standing at the edge of the ritual circle, smiling with tearful eyes.
"Thank you… for giving me a different ending."
Then I closed my eyes.
The magic ignited. Our blood united. And light erupted, swallowing the cursekeeper, erasing the vortex between dimensions.
Then…
Darkness.
---
I woke in a strange place. A gentle light bathed the sky.
But Aldric was not there.
I sat up, calling, shouting.
And then… I heard footsteps.
But it wasn't Aldric who emerged.
It was another man—dressed like a priest, with blood-red eyes and a smile I didn't recognize.
"Welcome to the Fourth Circle, Seraphine Valeria," he said. "You thought this was over?"
I froze. My breath caught.
"Now… you've only just entered the heart of it all."
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