The wind howled past Vira’s ears, a deafening roar that drowned out everything but the frantic drumming of her heart. The world twisted and spun, moonlight flashing in streaks as she plummeted through the night sky. The weightless terror of falling clenched around her ribs, suffocating, relentless. The jagged cliffs rushed upward, black shapes against the frothing sea below. The cold bit into her skin, each second stretching impossibly long as if the universe itself were holding its breath.

  She had no time to think. Her mind reeled, scrambling for a solution, a miracle, but the air tore at her limbs, making her powerless against gravity’s crushing pull. There was no escape. No salvation.

  Then, the cold of the ocean slapped against her body, a brutal, jarring impact that stole the breath from her lungs. The water enveloped her, swallowing her whole, a dark abyss pulling her down into its depths. Her limbs flailed, desperate, but she couldn’t fight it. The freezing cold, the pressure of the water, the darkness closing in—all of it threatened to crush her.

  Vira’s world was drowning, the cold embrace of the ocean swallowing her whole. Her body hung limp in the frigid water, the blood from the wound in her chest swirling in the waves, turning the sea red. She couldn’t breathe. The world had become an endless blur of movement, dark and suffocating. The pain in her chest felt like it was crushing her soul.

  Her vision faded, the edges of her consciousness fraying like an unraveling thread, until—

  A flash of warmth cut through the cold. It was a presence, powerful and soothing, like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. And then… strong arms, pulling her from the depths, lifting her from the water.

  "Vira."

  The voice was unmistakable. Theron.

  Vira could barely open her eyes, but she could feel the warmth of Theron’s body, solid and comforting. The touch was gentle but insistent, pulling her from the clutches of death. It was like being held by the very earth itself, something grounding her, saving her.

  "Stay with me, Vira. Just breathe. Focus on my voice."

  The air felt thick, hard to breathe, but she managed to inhale a ragged gasp. Her chest ached—her heart, blood oozing in a steady trickle from the wound—an agony too sharp to ignore. She tried to speak, but the words caught in her throat.

  Theron’s grip tightened as the woman pulled her with strength that Vira couldn’t comprehend, her ethereal presence infusing her own fragile body with heat. A golden aura began to form around them, warmth spreading like sunlight in the cold night air.

  "Hold on, Vira," Theron whispered, her voice soft but firm, the familiar glow of her spirit intensifying as she carried the injured girl to the shore. "You’ve been stabbed… but you’re not dying here. Not like this. I won’t let you go."

  Vira’s body shook, half-conscious, her lips barely parting to breathe as the water still clung to her skin. The smell of the ocean filled her senses, but now it was overlaid by Theron’s presence—calm, powerful, the warmth of the living.

  The shore appeared before them, the sand soft beneath them as Theron gently lowered her to the ground. She knelt beside Vira, her hands glowing as the air around them shimmered with divine power. Vira’s breath was shallow, her chest barely rising, but the pain that had once gripped her was fading, softened by Theron’s essence.

  "Shh… You’ll be alright," Theron murmured, her hands pressing gently over the wound. "I’ve got you."

  Vira’s gaze flickered, meeting Theron’s golden eyes—eyes that were filled with sorrow and love, but something else. Something… urgent.

  "Theron…" Vira croaked, her voice breaking. She reached for her, the effort too much for her shaking limbs. "Please... don’t leave me... please…"

  Theron’s expression hardened, determination flashing in her eyes. "I’m not leaving you, Vira." Her voice was soft, but there was a deep power behind her words. "But this—" She held up her hand, the glow intensifying around her fingers. "This is the only way."

  Vira’s brow furrowed, her body struggling to hold onto the last shred of consciousness. "What… what way?" she gasped, her voice weak.

  Theron leaned down, brushing a strand of Vira’s damp hair from her forehead. "I will give you what you need to live," she said, her voice a mere whisper now, but filled with raw, divine power. "My blood… my Ashara Blood. It’s the only thing that can heal you now."

  Before Vira could fully comprehend her words, Theron’s hand moved to her chest, just above her heart. A soft glow emanated from her fingertips as she closed her eyes, her spirit coalescing into something more solid, more corporeal than it ever had been before.

  Vira’s breath came in shallow bursts as Theron gently placed her fingers against the wound. The warmth of the divine blood began to pool in her palm, the liquid glowing like molten crimson violet. It was life. Power. And it was coursing directly into Vira’s body.

  Before Vira could fully comprehend her words, Theron’s hand moved to her chest, just above her heart. A soft glow emanated from her fingertips as she closed her eyes, her spirit coalescing into something more solid, more corporeal than it ever had been before.

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  Vira’s breath came in shallow bursts, her body trembling as she tried to make sense of the warmth spreading from Theron’s hand. The divine blood began to pool in her palm, a liquid glowing like molten crimson violet. It was life. Power. And it was coursing directly into Vira’s body, carrying with it a strength she could feel wrapping around her insides. But it also felt like something more, like something vital was slipping away from Theron in exchange for this gift.

  Confusion clouded Vira’s mind. Her chest burned with the rawness of it, and though her body grew warmer, stronger, she also felt the distinct absence of something she couldn’t quite name.

  “Lady Theron…” Vira gasped, her eyes wide with horror. “What... are you—?”

  Theron’s lips pressed together in a soft, serene smile as she glanced down at Vira’s wound, where the divine blood had begun to heal the wound. The slash from the blade, once deep and devastating, was now mending, the flesh knitting together with unnatural speed. But Vira could see something else—Theron’s form flickering, beginning to lose its solid shape.

  “Vira, do you understand?” Theron whispered, her voice soft but carrying a weight that anchored it. “I give you my blood because you will need it. This blood… it will protect you. It will heal you, give you strength. But it comes with a price.”

  Vira’s heart skipped. Her breath caught in her throat as she realized the cost. “No… no, you can’t… You can’t give everything, Lady Theron… I can’t—”

  “It’s the only way, child,” Theron said, her fingers still pressed to Vira’s chest, her touch warm and reassuring despite the fading of her form. “The divine Ashara Blood is sealed within you now. It will keep you alive and give you power, but it must be guarded carefully. It will be yours to wield, but only when the time is right.”

  Vira’s eyes filled with tears as she watched Theron’s once-solid form begin to thin and fade, the ethereal golden light of her spirit dissipating into the air. She tried to speak, but the words were caught in her throat. “Lady Theron, please—!” she cried out, her hands trembling as she reached for her mistress, her body wanting to hold on. The connection was still strong, but it was slipping, and her desperate grasping felt like an effort in futility.

  “I’m not gone, Vira,” Theron’s voice was a mere whisper now, but there was a weight to it, a certainty that grounded Vira in the moment even as the woman’s body became less and less tangible. Her hands slowly lifted away from Vira’s body, a final tender caress against her skin, before they began to dissolve like sand slipping through the fingers of time. “I will always be with you, in your blood. But the Ashara is dangerous if not contained.”

  Vira’s chest heaved, trying to hold back the rising flood of emotions. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest as she looked down at the place where Theron’s hand had been, now nothing more than a distant echo. “No… please, you can’t leave me… I—I need you,” Vira whispered, her voice breaking as she tried to stand, tried to rise up with whatever strength she had left. Her legs wobbled beneath her, unsteady with exhaustion and the weight of loss she wasn’t ready to carry.

  “The Ashara must be protected, child,” Theron’s voice was now a mere breath, but there was a firmness in her tone, one that carried across the distance between them despite her form fading away. “It will feed you, give you strength, but it can destroy you if you let it. You must guard it with your life, for there will come a time when you will have to face the very essence of your being. To do that, you must seek the Fate’s Blossom. Only with the Essence of Elysium can you truly harness the power of the blood and unlock your potential.”

  Vira’s breath caught in her throat as her mind tried to grasp the enormity of what Theron was telling her. The Fate’s Blossom? The Essence of Elysium? They were names she didn’t understand, concepts that felt like they existed in another lifetime. And yet, there was a certainty in Theron’s voice that demanded her attention, that told her these were not just idle words.

  Vira’s hands trembled as she reached out to Theron, her fingertips brushing the fading light of her mistress’s form, but it was as if she were trying to hold onto smoke. Theron’s figure continued to slip away, becoming more intangible, like mist fading at dawn, slipping through the cracks of the world. “Lady Theron—no—!” Vira cried, her voice raw and full of desperation. “I don’t know how to do this without you. I can’t—”

  Theron’s smile was soft, filled with love and sorrow. She had always been the one to guide, the one who had always been the anchor. “You are the one who carries it now, Vira. You are the one who will rise, even in the darkest of times. You will have the strength to carry this burden because it is yours to wield. You are the heir of Ashara’s bloodline now, and you must walk the path alone.” Her voice was steady, though fading, as if she had already made peace with her fate.

  Vira’s chest tightened. "Please, don’t say that." She could feel her eyes burn with the weight of her unshed tears. “I’m not ready, Lady Theron. I don't even know who I am anymore."

  Theron’s form flickered, and she slowly knelt down beside Vira, her hand still resting on her heart. “You will find yourself, Vira. You must. The path ahead is not easy, and you will face trials that will test everything you are, but you have something others do not—my blood. It will guide you. You will need it to fight the darkness, to overcome the trials that await.”

  “But the Fate’s Blossom,” Vira whispered, her voice trembling, "How do I find it? Where—?"

  Theron gave a faint, loving smile. “When the time comes, you will know. It will call to you. The Blossom, the Essence of Elysium… they are the keys to unlocking the true nature of your power.” Her form began to flicker more rapidly now, and Vira could feel her spirit thinning, the light almost extinguished. “You are not alone, Vira. You carry the blood of the divine, and my spirit will always be with you.”

  Vira’s hands pressed desperately against the air, trying to hold onto the last pieces of Theron’s presence, but it was too late. The last of Theron’s corporeal form vanished into the air with a final, shimmering glow. Her spirit, her essence, now resided within the ring around Vira’s neck—hidden from sight but never truly gone.

  Vira gasped for breath, her chest tightening with grief, as the final remnants of Theron’s presence faded into nothingness. The heat of her blood continued to pulse through Vira’s body, the warmth spreading across her limbs, and she could feel the power deep inside her, thrumming like a heartbeat. She could feel it… and yet, the empty space left by Theron’s absence was almost unbearable.

  She clutched the ring around her neck, feeling the faintest pulse of life within it, as if Theron’s spirit remained close, a part of her now forever. The divine Ashara Blood hummed quietly inside her, a promise, a gift, and a burden all at once. The weight of it was heavy—too heavy to fully understand—but it was hers now.

  Vira’s mind raced, trying to make sense of everything. The Fate’s Blossom. The Essence of Elysium. The blood that ran through her veins, that thrummed in her chest, was not just blood—it was power, it was legacy, and it was something she could not ignore.

  The price of survival had been steep, but she would carry this legacy now.

  She would rise. She would rise, and when the time came, she would find the Fate’s Blossom. She would create the Essence of Elysium, and with it, regain her ability to forge her essence, rising again in power.