Chapter 37
?──── Koen ? ────?
The first thing I notice when I step out of the portal into the Labyrinth is that I’m underground.
It’s freezing, dark, damp, and smelling of must and dusty stone. My breath fogs in the air. Summoning my magic, I shape a ball of light that floats above my palm, casting a dim golden glow across the walls.
There is only one way forward: a spiral staircase of stone, climbing upward too high to see the top.
The steps are narrow, some crumbling at the edges.
There’s no railing, no safety. I start carefully, keeping close to the inner wall, though it does little good.
I stumble twice when pieces of stone break away beneath my boots, tumbling into the abyss below.
I can’t tell how long I climb, my legs aching, lungs burning, until at last, the staircase ends. I almost wish it hadn’t.
The path ahead is worse—a long, narrow bridge of stone, barely two feet across, stretches thirty feet to the far side. No handholds. Nothing but open air and endless black below. My stomach sinks.
I swallow hard, taking a step toward it. At least it’s solid , I tell myself…only for a chip of stone to crack free and fall into the dark.
Of course.
I steel myself, but just as I’m about to set foot on the bridge, I see Serenya.
She’s on the far side, locked in combat with a swarm of wraiths. Too many. Far too many. She’s bleeding, staggering, too slow. My heart lurches. I forget the bridge, forget my safety.
I run.
Halfway across, the stone shifts beneath my boot and breaks away. I crash to my knees, arms pinwheeling as I nearly pitch over the edge. My pulse roars in my ears. When I look up, a wraith has slipped behind her. She doesn’t see it.
“Serenya!” I shout.
Her head whips toward me, eyes wide, confusion furrowing her brow. “Koen?”
The distraction costs her.
The wraith lunges from behind, sinking claws deep. Her gasp is sharp, her body buckling. She stumbles, falling to her hands and knees, blood blooming across her back. Her violet eyes lock on mine one last time—desperate and pleading.
“Help…me.”
I lunge forward. But it’s useless.
She crumbles, face slamming into the ground. Still. Silent.
The wraiths retreat, like they are satisfied with only her death. They don’t even spare me a glance.
“No!” My voice shatters in the void as I push harder, running, stumbling, nearly falling into the abyss more times than I can count. By the time I reach the far side and drop next to her, reaching out with shaking hands, she dissolves into smoke.
An illusion.
“Fuck.” My hand slams against the stone floor. My chest heaves, rage and terror crashing together.
I can’t let my emotions break me. Not here. Not in this godsdamned place.
I force myself to breathe, though my hands still shake.
Anger surges through me as I stand, but underneath it, fear tightens its grip. Why didn’t she tell me she had to face the final trial? Why did she hide it from me? I grit my teeth.
Why would she tell you? She doesn’t owe you anything.
The whisper slithers through my mind. The Labyrinth’s voice.
My jaw clenches as fury burns in my chest. I know Serenya is strong—more than strong, a force of nature. But even a force can break. Everyone has a weakness. I think I know what hers is.
And I can’t let her face it alone. Not again.
I shove forward, taking the next spiral staircase two steps at a time. Shadows curl along the walls, whispering in her voice. Her laugh, her sighs, her soft “I love yous” spoken to Kallan. Each one slices me open, twisting into something jagged.
Still, I don’t stop.
At the top, a single old wooden door waits. I slam it open and walk onto a battlefield.
The stench of blood hits first. Dead fae and vampires litter the ground, their magic of shadow and steel, fire and ice still crackling in the air.
I turn in every direction, heart pounding.
I see Torin, blade flashing, fighting back-to-back with Kallan, their movements seamless, a deadly dance.
Farther off is the king. I’ve never seen him before, yet I know . His presence is unmistakable. He cuts through enemies like the battle is nothing more than sport.
Beside the king is a man in a captain’s uniform.
I’ve heard Torin mention him before, but I haven’t met him yet.
He fights with the same ease as the king.
A wave of sadness washes over me as I watch him.
I can’t explain it. I feel a pull towards him—different from the one I feel with Serenya.
His presence provides a comfort I don’t understand.
A lump forms in my throat as I continue to look around. I don’t know these fae, yet watching them fall, it feels like I’m losing friends, comrades. Blood slicks the ground. A vampire charges me, and I draw my sword, ready—
Only for the enemy to vanish before it reaches me.
The battlefield melts away.
I stand in a palace corridor now. Darker than Syltheriel’s halls, older. Heavy drapes, carved wood, everything steeped in shadowed elegance.
The hall is short, leading into a library. Lanterns glow against stone, books piled in careless stacks. By the hearth, a vampire reclines on a couch, reading, her long pink hair tied at the top of her head.
I hear Serenya’s voice.
My head snaps toward the sound. She’s at a table, tomes spread before her, notes scattered in wild disarray. Standing too close behind her is Dimitri.
He murmurs something I can’t hear. She shoots him an exasperated glare, but a smile breaks through, and she laughs.
The vampire on the couch lifts her gaze, smiling faintly. “You two are never going to find any answers if you keep goofing off.”
“I’m not goofing off,” Serenya snaps, fire flashing in her eyes. I almost smile…until Dimitri speaks.
“Come on, Ren. You’ve been working non-stop. You need a break. Have some fun with me while you’re here.”
Her eyes roll, but her lips curve. “Fine. What did you have in mind?”
Dimitri grins widely and offers his hand. “Come with me.”
She doesn’t hesitate. She takes his hand, giving him a soft smile.
My stomach churns as I watch him lead her away. Right before they get to the door, he stops, turning to her. He slowly reaches for her cheek, caressing it softly. He kisses her. She lets him. I see red. My jaw is clenched so hard it hurts.
When they break apart, breathless, he looks directly at me and smirks before leading her out.
After the door closes behind them, it vanishes.
Looking to the couch, I see that the pink-haired vampire has also disappeared.
I’m left alone.
Is that where she was? All those days when no one would tell me where she’d gone—when they only said she was “resting.” Was she here? In some hidden palace, laughing with him, kissing him , while I tore myself apart worrying?
I shake my head violently. Doesn’t matter. None of it matters. I just need to focus and find her.
The corridors stretch endlessly, hours of illusions. Hours of battles I’ve never fought, moments with her I’ve never lived. My dreams these past weeks have hardened me. I push through them, refusing to falter.
That is…until I hear a scream.
Her scream.
I break into a sprint, every muscle burning. Another scream splits the air, more raw. The sound of someone breaking.
A door looms ahead. I throw it open, and the world stills as I step into a ballroom. Vast, but meaningless. I don’t see it.
All I see is Serenya.
Kneeling in the center of the floor, hunched over, hands covering her face. Shadows coil around her like living chains, whispering with every breath.
I step forward slowly. Afraid that if I move too fast, she’ll vanish again.
“Serenya?” I say softly.
No response. Only her whisper, broken, repeating over and over: “Please not him. Not Koen. Not again.”
My heart stops.
“Little shadow…”
Still nothing.
I crouch in front of her, reach for her, desperate to be her anchor.
She vanishes into smoke.
I grind my teeth, fists clenched so tight my knuckles hurt, fighting to steady the wild rhythm of my heart. It kills me to see her like that, even if I know it wasn’t truly her. Relief and sorrow twist inside me until I can’t tell them apart.
The Labyrinth shows no mercy. It doesn’t grant me time to gather myself, to breathe.
The ground beneath me ripples like disturbed water, and before I can react, it swallows me whole.
I plunge downward, weightless for a heartbeat, then crash against stone.
Pain flares up my wrists and shoulders as I land hard on my hands and knees. I bite back a groan, rising slowly.
Stone walls close in around me, towering higher than I can see.
There is no ceiling, only a strip of open sky above—dark and heavy, like a storm waiting to break.
The air is thick with the bitter taste of stone dust, damp and stale.
My boots scrape over uneven rock as I push forward, twisting through narrow corridors.
Twice, three times, I slam into dead ends, forced to double back.
I turn a corner and freeze.
Mawless. Not one. Two.
Both wear stolen faces. Aren’s sharp features. Aleric’s soft eyes. The sight hits like a fist to the gut. I barely survived my last fight with one of these creatures, and that was against a single mawless. Now two close in, silent and merciless.
They don’t give me a chance to try to run. They instantly attack together.
Light erupts across my skin, golden jagged lines sparking. One blade arcs toward me. I block with my sword. Another comes from the side. I meet it with a blast of magic. Energy slams the mawless into the wall, cracking stone, but the creature drags itself upright without hesitation.
The second lunges again. My sword hums as my magic flows into it, the edge blazing with searing light. In my other hand, I summon a weapon of pure radiance, a sword born of magic alone.
I twist, barely dodging a strike that whistles past my ribs. Another comes down fast. I parry, sparks screaming as metal clashes. To my own surprise, my movements are fast as if instinct guides me.