Chapter 103 – Azaria
AZARIA
There was no time.
I stopped at our wing long enough to grab my sword, then ran for the stables.
I didn’t bother changing my clothes. Everyone was already there, horses saddled and waiting.
I pushed through the barn doors, spotting Karion instantly; the old gelding whickered when he saw me.
Clever beast. He knew something was about to happen.
Before I could reach him, Darann intercepted me. He gave my shoulder a quick squeeze. “You have that look on your face, Princess.”
I met his eyes. “The one that says I’m about to do something stupid?”
His mouth quirked. “That’s the one.”
Then Quin wrapped me in his arms. I stopped for a heartbeat, letting myself rest against him.
So much had happened today—first Torven, then the Darkness tearing me back from the brink, and then the look on Dain’s face when I finally told him the truth.
I felt him arrive at the stables with Kalias moments after me.
He couldn’t meet my eye. He wasn’t angry.
He was devastated. And that was much, much worse.
I swallowed the ache in my throat and kissed Quin deeply, grounding myself in the moment.
“The others are already ahead. Let’s not waste any more time,” I called, swinging up onto Karion’s back.
“What’s going to happen?” Lyra asked.
I turned in the saddle to face them all.
“Casters and priests have placed warding stones all over the area. When we arrive, I’ll need every single one of you to find the nearest stone and channel your magic into it.
Darann will reinforce wardstones with light magic extracted from sacrificed artifacts.
The priests will then weave the warding spell through the space, connecting each stone. ”
“Is that the same as the wards between Kareth and Dravareth?” Zeph asked.
“Not exactly,” I said. “Those wards are a barrier—a border that keeps both nations apart. Every time we walked through the fissure, the warding magic stung because it wasn’t meant to let anyone through.
If you tried to force it, it’d tear you apart.
This spell is different. It’s a one-way ward.
It traps everything inside, and it won’t open until the threat it’s meant to contain is gone.
Minutes, hours, days—it doesn’t matter. Once it’s activated, it stays locked until the magic decides the danger has passed.
So I’ll warn you all once—do not get trapped between the Abyss and the ward. You won’t get out.”
My squad answered, acknowledging my words. I turned Karion toward the exit, nerves tight in my chest.
“Let’s hurry,”
The ride there was silent.
We pushed our horses to the limit. They were lathered in sweat and foam, breathing rough and ragged. We had to stop it. If Biscuit’s warning was right, we were doomed if the ward wasn’t erected in time.
The warding area was mapped for a ten-mile radius of where Torven was last seen, meant to catch the Abyssal Boom at its origin and hold it fast. But we were too late. The moment we arrived, whatever hope I’d clung to died.
A vast, black cloud the size of a small village—maybe more—writhed before us, seething with abyssal magic and still growing.
The stench of poison, rot, and something sharp and metallic burned my lungs.
My stomach turned. Beneath it, guttural shrieks echoed in ancient fae.
The cloud was three miles from the ward’s edge, maybe less, and closing fast.
“Holy gods…” Reyna breathed. We all stared, frozen in the saddles.
Dravareth warriors and hounds flanked the cloud, cutting through the mages trying to erect the ward. They wanted the Boom to spread.
“Get into positions,” I ordered. Silence. Nobody moved.
“Get into fucking positions, now!” I snapped. “Move to the warding stones—two each! Pour everything you’ve got into them! We need that ward, or we’re all fucking dead!”
That broke the spell.
We all dismounted, boots thudding on the ruined ground. I slapped Karion’s flank hard. “Go! Back to the stables!” The gelding reared, then bolted. The others did the same. Horses fled. My squad sprinted for the nearest warding stones. They were spread every hundred paces or so.
Dain reached me, grabbing my arm. “What’s your plan?” Anguish shadowed his face, but he was ready.
“I’ll find Tallis and his troops.” I nodded toward the Dravareth forces. “We need to keep them away from the mages, or we’re fucked.”
I looked into his eyes and saw raw fear in them. I knew exactly what he was thinking. The vision he saw in Solmarin. The abyssal cloud enveloping him, shrouding everything in rot and poisoned blood.
“Az, that cloud?—“
I didn’t let him finish. “Go, Dain. I’m with you.”
He held my gaze for a moment longer, squeezed my fingers, then ran for the warding stones. I turned to the wolf.
“Kalias, go help with the wards. Your magic is stronger than any of theirs.”
No. I stay. Kalias’s voice rumbled through the pack bond.
“You must go, Kalias!” I shouted aloud, desperate. He growled back, ears flat, not moving.
“Please, friend—help them. They need you more than I do.”
For a long moment, the wolf only stared at me, silver eyes burning with conflict. Then he whined, stepped close, and licked my cheek. I choked out a shaky laugh.
“Thank you. Now go.”
He turned, bolting toward the mages.
I drew my sword and ran.
Chaos. Smoke, screaming, bodies everywhere.
I sprinted through the fray, cutting down whatever Dravareth warriors and beasts crossed my path. There were too many, and we didn’t have enough fighters to bring their numbers down. We needed to erect that ward fast, but Dravareth was cutting the mages down before they could finish.
I ran across the muddy ground, ducking under a wild arc of flame and nearly running straight into Veshar. He wore the battle leathers of Solmarin’s captain. Blue fire poured from his hands, incinerating Dravareth soldiers by the dozen, but the hounds barreled through, unfazed.
Not like the ones I’d faced before. Those could still be brought down with enough steel—or Quin’s blood magic. These were different. Denser with Abyss. You could carve them apart, but magic alone wouldn’t do a damned thing.
“Why the fuck aren’t they dying?” Veshar snarled, his voice ragged.
“Because they’re saturated with Abyss,” I managed. “Fire won’t touch them.”
Veshar spat a curse, then hurled himself back into the fight. Somewhere on the left, I spotted Rylen and his men defending the western flank. I couldn’t see Serah and Torik, but they were out there somewhere.
I pushed forward, cutting through until I spotted Tallis and his officers fighting back the enemy onslaught. He caught my eye; the blade flickered with light.
“Azaria! We’re losing ground—they’re tearing through the right flank!”
“We hold them here,” I shouted, parrying a strike. “Buy time for the mages!”
We fought side by side, but for every beast or Dravareth warrior we cut down, another two took their place. Mages were falling; some crushed, others torn apart by abyssal claws. We fought at the front of the warding line, always a breath from being trapped on the wrong side.
And above it all, the spell—the Boom—was pulsing, creeping closer. We were losing time. The faint shimmer of the rising ward was visible now, thicker with every heartbeat, but still incomplete.
The stench of the Abyss was getting stronger; less than two miles from our position now. Tallis and I fought relentlessly, back to back, cutting down as many as we could. I attuned to my own artifacts sparingly—using too many in quick succession would drain me. I couldn’t afford that now.
Time blurred. Men went down one after the other. The palace officers were the lowest-ranking mages, or non-magical entirely. They all went through physical training, but they had no chance against abyssal magic. None of us had.
Somewhere in the chaos, I caught a flash of dark hair—Darann, working at the wardstones with Rylen’s artificers. Dark smoke wrapped around glowing artifacts as he extracted their light magic and fed it into the stones.
I risked a glance—almost there. A little longer. I had one goal—keep the mages alive, keep the ward rising. But it wasn’t enough. There were too many. The spell was growing.
The binding in my chest pulsed, more alive than it had been in months. I knew that feeling. Torven. He was inside the cloud, at its heart, feeding the spell with his own life force. Still alive. Still dangerous. Which meant the Boom was still growing, still building toward detonation.
I knew what had to be done.
I fought my way to the front, shoving soldiers aside, cutting a path through the hellscape. My sword dripped black blood, my arms shaking with exhaustion.
“The ward is almost up!” I screamed. “Everyone—fall back! Stay behind the lines!”
Tallis and the other captains heard me, voices echoing my command as they began to pull their people away. One by one, squads and mages retreated, risking everything for a few more yards.
I watched the shimmer thicken, a nearly solid barrier now. A few more moments, come on?—
“Azaria! Fall back!” Tallis yelled, grabbing my arm. “It’s enough—you have to get out!”
I shook my head, wrenching free. “The ward alone won’t hold. The spell’s too strong.”
He stared at me, eyes wide with horror. “Don’t you fucking do this.”
“We don’t have a choice,” I said. “The Boom will break through unless something holds it here. We need those mages to keep the ward standing, and someone has to distract the Abyss!”
Tallis lunged for me, desperation twisting his face. “Azaria, please—step away! That’s an order!”
I turned, pivoted on my heel, and—using every ounce of speed and force I had—kicked him square in the chest, sending him flying clear past the growing shimmer.
He landed with a curse, scrambling to his feet as the last line of the ward snapped closed—a blinding flash, then a solid wall of power appeared between us.
I was trapped inside.
A roar went up from beyond the barrier; Tallis’s voice shouting my name, pounding on the ward. My heart hammered, but my voice was steady.
“Azaria… what have you done?” Tallis’s voice echoed through the shimmer, horror and grief in every word.
I drew my sword, turned to face the heart of the cloud, and shouted back,
“What I had to.”