---
"I'm not her," I said quietly, standing before the radiant figure—Elara in her full form, dazzling, yet harboring eternal darkness.
The figure stepped closer. Her gaze pierced through me, as if combing through every corner of my soul.
"But you've walked my path. You've repeated my vengeance. You've felt my broken love."
"I'm not you," I repeated, firmer this time. "I'm Seraphine. I may have been born from your fragments, but I have my own will. I love, I hate, and I choose my own path."
Elara let out a soft laugh—a sound that trembled through the void around us.
"You've forgotten, Seraphine. I once said the same. That I could control this curse. That I could save love and destroy hatred at once. But this curse isn't just magic. It's pain passed down through generations. And you… you're too close to the same end."
Aldric stood beside me.
"She's not like you," he said sharply. "She's stronger. Because she doesn't try to forget the past. She faces it—and changes it."
Elara's eyes shifted to him, cold and piercing… then softened.
"Aldric," she murmured, her voice heavy with longing and sorrow. "Even after thousands of years, your heart sounds the same."
I gripped Aldric's hand tightly.
"Look at me, Elara. It's time we stop reliving the pain. It's time to break this cycle."
Elara looked at us. Slowly, her figure began to crack—like shattered glass reflecting light and collapsing memories.
"If you truly wish to be different from me," she whispered, "then prove it. But first… face what I never could."
The cracks widened. And from within them, something else emerged.
Not light. Not shadow. But pure darkness. Shapeless. Its voice was the scream of thousands of souls. It twisted and coiled, morphing into a figure that resembled both Elara and me—colder, hungrier.
"The Shadow," Aldric breathed. "This… is the curse itself, made flesh."
"It's the part Elara left behind," said Elara's fading voice. "Vengeance without love. Power without direction. And now… it seeks to take over."
The shadow grinned.
"Because you are weak," it said, its voice both a whisper and a thunderclap. "You reject your power, Seraphine. But I will embrace it. Only I deserve to end this."
It lunged, crashing to the ground, unleashing a wave of energy that tore me away from Aldric.
"Aldric!" I screamed, trying to reach him, but the curse lashed out like dark roots, pulling me into the vortex.
I fell—thrown into memories that weren't entirely mine—Elara's past: her family lost, her palace in flames, Aldric slain by his own ally's hand.
I felt the pain as if it were my own. The agony was real. The vengeance burned.
The voice of the curse whispered at my ear.
"Accept me. And you'll make them all pay. No more weakness. No more love that fails."
"No," I murmured. But my voice was faint. A part of me began to doubt.
The shadow appeared before me as Aldric, smiling sweetly.
"He will leave you again. He will die, as before. As always. You can only save him if you choose me."
My hand trembled. I wanted to refuse, but my body shook. The memories piled on, forming scars that refused to fade.
Then—a ray of light pierced the vortex. The real Aldric's voice rang out.
"Seraphine! Don't let the past dictate your present!"
The light came from the blood pendant I had always thought was just a symbol. It pulsed, glowing with a gentle crimson-gold magic.
The real Elara—what remained of her soul—appeared faintly behind me.
"Your choice will be the end or the beginning, Seraphine. But you must choose with your whole heart, not your fear."
The curse clawed and thrashed. But I stood tall.
"I won't repeat history," I said slowly. "I won't kill love to save vengeance."
I opened both hands, and the pendant glowed brighter. The shadow screamed, but couldn't come closer.
"I accept your parts, Elara. The wounds, the love, even the mistakes. But I will write my own ending."
With steady steps, I walked into the dark vortex. My body merged with the light from the pendant, and as I touched the heart of the curse, the world shuddered.
The shadow shrieked. It tried to drag me down with it.
"If I fall, you fall with me!"
"No," I said. "You are only the wounded part. But I… I am the one who survived."
I clenched the pendant, and the light exploded.
The world of the curse collapsed.
---
I awoke on the floor of the third circle, gasping for air. Aldric knelt beside me, worry etched on his face.
"I'm back…" I whispered.
He held my hand.
"You won."
I smiled faintly. But before I could speak again, the ground beneath us trembled.
"No…" Aldric muttered. "What now?"
Across the room, a new rift opened—darker than any before. And from within it, came a voice entirely unfamiliar. Not Elara's. Not the curse's.
Someone… or something… laughed.
A cold laugh. Familiar, yet ancient. Older than the curse itself.
"So… you've finally arrived, Elara," the voice said.
I turned—and my heart froze.
From the rift emerged a tall figure with silver eyes and a sly smile.
He wore the robes of Astoria.
Aldric stood.
"That… is not part of the curse."
The figure bowed slightly, elegantly.
"Of course not. I am its creator."
I swallowed hard.
"Who… are you?"
He smiled.
"I am the reason Elara was cursed. I am the one who first bound Valeria and Astoria in war. I am the root of it all."
He looked at me.
"And you, Seraphine… are the only mistake I have yet to correct."
---