A sharp ache spreads through my lungs as I sprint toward the looming chasm. The hounds’ snarls grow louder, snapping at my heels like hungry knives. My vision swims, pulses of adrenaline and corruption battling for control inside my skull. But then I see it—a vast, broken bridge stretching out over a swirling pit of glass dust, and beyond it, the monolithic wall of the Blind Citadel. A surge of hope cuts through my panic; I’m close. So close.
The bone map at my side glows, confirming my suspicions. I can practically feel the Citadel’s magic radiating from the obsidian gate ahead, a dark, resonant force that tugs at my spirit. The bridge itself is a horror—fractured panes of glass fused to rusted iron support beams, half of it already collapsed into the churning void below. I consider teleportation for a heartbeat but abandon the idea; my energy is too turbulent, my control too shaky. One miscast, and I’d end up smashing into the chasm instead of crossing it.
I slide to a stop at the broken edge. Wind howls through the pit, carrying the faint sparkle of dust that gnaws at my skin. The Silver Eye Pendant thrums against my chest, and Lyra’s weary whisper flickers through my mind:
“The gate demands a sacrifice. Remember the song of ash and bone.”
My heart thumps an uneasy rhythm. The bone flute practically vibrates in my hand, as though it’s alive. Even in my exhaustion, I can feel its yearning—a call to complete whatever ritual binds it to this cursed place. There’s no time to think. The hounds’ howls crash behind me. If I hesitate, they’ll catch me right here on the edge.
Pressing the flute to my lips, I blow. The sound that emerges isn’t like any music I’ve known—harsh, atonal, scraping against my mind. It feels as if the air itself is ripping. Yet, it works. The broken shards of the bridge ripple under the note’s command, rising like shimmering serpents. They knit themselves together in a precarious path, each piece trembling under the strain of new life.
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Agony lances up my corrupted arm. I bite back a scream as blisters form along the black veins, each bubble pulsing with malevolent energy. The corruption surges, scraping up my neck like living shadows. I force my legs forward, gripping my staff in my free hand to steady myself. If I linger, the pain will cripple me. If I linger, the bridge might collapse again before I cross.
I pour every shred of will into my stride, chasing the discordant echoes of the flute’s melody. With each footfall, glass shards shudder beneath me, precariously shifting but holding just enough for my passage. My breath comes in ragged bursts. The Citadel’s gate stands ahead like a black maw, rimmed with ghostly braziers casting pallid flames. I don’t dare look back. Every second counts.
A final leap carries me off the trembling bridge and onto solid ground. My knees buckle, and I nearly tumble into the obsidian wall. As I stagger upright, I see the gate begin to open—a deep groan reverberates, the heavy slabs parting just enough to reveal a cavernous corridor beyond.
Behind me, the snarls erupt into a frenzy. The hounds charge onto the makeshift glass route, hungry for my blood. But the path is already failing, shards grinding and shrieking as they strain to hold their weight. Two of the beasts skid, claws scrabbling for purchase on the cracking surface, before the bridge gives way in a crash of glittering debris. Their agonized yowls echo from the chasm, swallowed by the swirling dust below.
The survivors press on with feverish determination, jaws dripping molten drool, bounding closer. I don’t wait to see if they can make it across. Fear and resolve propel me forward, my corrupted arm screaming in protest, the throbbing ache in my chest barely overshadowed by relief. Just keep moving.
I stumble through the yawning gate into a grand hall of dim stone, lit by spectral flames that flicker in iron braziers. The corridor stretches away into darkness, an invitation and a warning in one. My breath catches in my throat as the weight of the Citadel’s ancient magic presses down, a silent reminder that Kael might already be somewhere within these walls.
