Chapter 105 – Azaria
AZARIA
Ilost track of time the moment the ward snapped shut behind me; the blinding shimmer and the echo of Tallis’s voice fading on the other side. All that mattered now was staying alive long enough to give the mages a fighting chance.
The air here was thicker, poisoned with rot and heat.
Sword in one hand, dagger in the other, I moved in the blur of battle—duck, parry, thrust—every movement burning through the last of my strength.
Each Dravareth soldier that rushed me came with wild, desperate eyes, half-mad with abyssal magic.
I kept them focused on me, turning every cut and block into a challenge: Come on. Take your shot at the captain.
My arms were leaden, every muscle aching, clothes stuck to my skin with sweat and blood.
My throat ached where the wound had been.
It was healed, but not fully. Every gasping breath scraped.
There was no time to count the wounds. Every time I cut one down, two more closed in.
I kicked a soldier back, felt a hound’s teeth graze my thigh, spun and slashed, barely holding the line.
I risked a glance toward the heart of the ward—the Boom pulsed, black and alive, creeping closer. The ground itself shuddered as it drew nearer, the smell of poison and burned flesh choking the air. There was no way out. No retreat, no backup. Only me and the Abyss, face to face.
The binding in my chest pulsed with every step the Boom took closer. Torven was inside that darkness. I could feel him.
I gritted my teeth and swung again. My sword arm was trembling now, my vision narrowing with each heartbeat. My boots slipped in the churned mud—one mistake and I’d be done.
I kept going. I had to. For the squad, for the mages, for the kingdom behind the ward.
I could feel the exhaustion dragging at my limbs, muscles refusing to obey, the slow, relentless ache of a body at its limit. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew: I wasn’t going to make it out. Not this time.
The next wave hit, and I met it head-on—blood in my mouth, sweat stinging my eyes, every sense screaming. I was tired. So godsdamned tired. But as long as I could move, I’d fight.
And when the Boom finally broke, I’d be ready.
I planted my boots, forcing myself upright in the sucking mud.
Four Dravareth soldiers circled in, abyssal light flickering in their eyes.
I spun my sword once in my hand, flipped my dagger in the other—steadying, feeling the familiar weight.
My arms ached. My lungs burned. But for one heartbeat, I let myself smile, but it was thin and humorless.
“Come and get me, fuckers,” I spat.
They hesitated a fraction, reading the promise in my stance; the promise that I would take as many of them down as I could. Maybe all of them, if the gods had any sense of humor left.
The first one lunged. The blade bit deep as I met him with a savage swing. The world narrowed to movement and violence—parry, duck, slash, twist. My mind blanked to anything but the next breath, the next strike, the next enemy falling.
The last of them fell at my feet, black blood splattering my boots, my blade sticky with rot. I stood there, chest heaving, hands trembling from exhaustion. I waited, listening for the next rush, the next snarling beast.
But nothing came.
I turned, eyes searching for more enemies, but the field had gone strangely still.
The Dravareth soldiers—those who hadn’t fallen—were gone, melted back beyond the reach of the Boom.
They’d left me alone, a single figure on the churned battlefield, with nothing but the stench of death and the rumble of approaching magic.
That’s when I saw it. The Boom, a vast black wall, writhing and alive, hurtling toward me—closer now, so close I could feel its heat on my skin. Minutes, maybe less. I knew what was coming. There was no fighting this. No clever tactic. No last stand. Only the inevitable.
I straightened, sword and dagger still clenched in my aching hands. I was sticky with sweat, spattered with blood, barely able to stand. My breaths came short and ragged. Now that the fighting had stopped, fear crept in, cold and merciless.
My heart hammered in my chest. My hands shook. The taste of iron and bile flooded my mouth as I stared down the end. My knees nearly buckled, and I swallowed hard, forcing myself to stay upright.
“Gods, please—let it be quick,” I whispered, barely able to hear my own voice.
Then, through the roar of my pulse, through the building thunder of the oncoming Boom, I heard it. Faint at first, then clearer. Familiar voices, frantic and desperate.
“Azaria!”
A surge of something—hope, grief, love—rushed through me, making my vision blur.
I drew a shaky breath, dragging myself upright, spine straightening by sheer force of will. I could feel them behind me—voices tumbling over each other, frantic, heartbreakingly familiar. My name echoed through the shimmering ward, laced with panic and hope and everything I wasn’t ready to face.
But I didn’t turn. Not yet.
Courage, Azaria. Please, a little more.
If I looked back, I might break. I didn’t want them to see the terror twisting in my gut, the sweat slicking my palms, the way my breath kept catching in my throat.
I didn’t want them to see me afraid, or worse, to see disappointment in their eyes—for not escaping, for letting myself be trapped, for what would come next.
So I stood tall, sword still clutched in my shaking hand, jaw set. I fixed my eyes on the coming doom and forced myself to breathe. For them, for myself, for whatever time I had left—I would not let them see me fall apart.
When I finally turned, I saw all of them—Dain, Quin, Kael, Reyna, Lirael, Thorne, Zeph, Elias, Lyra, Kalias—faces I loved, each one twisted with horror and disbelief.
Darann stood behind them, face twisted with fury and grief.
Tallis stood beside him, wounded pride burning in his glare.
He’d never forgive me for shoving him out, but I couldn’t let him die with me.
Even Veshar and Rylen were there now, both of them staring.
And gods above, not even Tywin could stay away.
The ward shimmered between us. Their voices came through muffled, distorted by the magic, but I heard them. Every word. Every sob.
Veshar’s voice cracked through the hush—scared and angrier than I’d ever heard. “You bloody fool… You reckless fucking fool, Sylvenhart.”
Rylen stepped forward, hands trembling, devastation carved deep into every line of his face. “Azaria, what were you thinking? Do you wish to throw your life away so easily?” His voice broke on the last word.
“My life ended the moment Torven bound me,” I shot back, louder than I meant.
“Azaria…” Rylen’s voice was barely a whisper.
“That ward won’t hold,” I said, pointing at the shimmer, heart pounding.
Reyna’s voice was small and scared. “What are you saying?”
“Torven is still alive.” My hand pressed hard to my chest, right over the binding, the scar Torven had carved into my magic when I was seventeen. “I can still feel him, and the Abyssal Boom is growing in power. That ward will not hold.” I fixed Rylen with a look. “You know it too, don’t you?”
A shriek ripped through the field, the Boom lurching closer—a blast of hot wind sent shudders through everyone on the other side.
Quin slammed both fists against the ward, frantic. “Get her the fuck out of there?—“
“Quin…” My voice shook.
“GET HER THE FUCK OUT OF THERE!” He hurled himself at the barrier, pummeling it with fists, voice ragged with panic.
Elias rushed to restrain him, grabbing his arm. “Quin, stop!”
Thorne joined, both of them trying to hold Quin back as he thrashed, desperate.
“Let me go, Elias! Fucking let me go!” Quin’s voice was breaking. “Azaria!”
Reyna wiped at her eyes, shaking. “Why… why did you do it, Az?”
Kael—of course it would be Kael—watched me with a look that hurt worse than any blade. “You were planning this from the beginning, weren’t you?”
I met his eyes, tired but unflinching. “I knew the ward wouldn’t hold it. I knew the Abyssal Boom had to be distracted. We had a chance that way.”
Reyna’s voice was raw, begging. “But why you? Why does it have to be you, Azaria?”
I shook my head, tears burning. “Because I have what it wants! The Abyss, the spell—it’s after me, Reyna!
It’s always been me! Malphyr and Torven have been trying to kill me for years.
Torven managed to bind me to his will, to force me to do his bidding—to kill for him, to—“ My voice broke.
“—among other things. By binding me, he bound my magic too.”
I looked at every face. “I’m sorry I lied. I’m sorry I kept secrets. But I did it to protect you—all of you.”
Kael stared, eyes shining. Reyna was openly weeping. Quin was fighting to break free, his voice raw. Dain’s jaw was set, eyes burning with unshed tears.
I straightened, forcing my voice steady. “I know I shouldn’t have trusted Torven. But there’s no going back now. I’ll fix my mistakes. I’ll keep you safe. I swear it.”
My voice dropped, raw and broken. “Eris died because of me. Because Torven wanted to hurt me, to break me. All these mages—“ I gestured at the bodies littering the field, “—they died because of me. Because I brought this fight to your doorstep.”
Kael rocked his head. “Az, no?—“
“Yes,” I said firmly. “Yes. This is my fault. My mistake. My burden.” I drew a shaky breath. “But I’ll fix it. I’ll end this. I’ll make sure you’re all safe—I swear it on Eris’s grave, on every life lost today. I’ll fix what I broke.”
Another shriek ripped the air—the Boom was nearly upon me.
And for one last moment, I let myself drink them all in, their faces—my family. My reason for everything.
Kalias—wolf again now, massive silver form trembling with barely contained fury—started snarling, scraping furiously at the ward with his claws. Blood streaked the shimmering barrier, tearing his paws raw. He was wild, frantic, rage and grief pouring from every line of his body.