The royal dungeon stank of rot and ancient sorcery. Stone walls wept with black moisture, and the torches flickered green, shadows curling unnaturally in the corners. A circle of bones had been arranged with obsessive precision across the blood soaked floor, each femur, rib, and jawbone hand picked by the Bone Seer herself.
Queen Lorelei stood barefoot at the edge, crimson skirts hitched up and soaked through with arterial splatter. Her delicate hands, once fit for harps and courtship, now dripped with fresh blood, virgin blood, to be exact. Three of them, drained dry and hanging upside down like meat in the corner.
"A waste," King Kristoff muttered, running his tongue along a golden dagger still wet with heart's blood. "We could've broken them in first."
Lorelei scoffed. "You'll have more whores than you can ruin when the goddess bitch is in our cage."
From the shadows emerged the Bone Seer. Ancient. Wrinkled. Eyes pale and milked over. She hobbled into the light, trailing a bundle of phoenix feathers in one clawed hand and a still beating heart in the other.
"The cursed fae's last breath lingers in this," she rasped. "It was born with rot in its soul. Perfect for baiting divinity."
She slammed the heart into the center of the bone circle. The runes, smeared in a slurry of blood and ash, pulsed. The walls trembled. Screams echoed, not from the room, but from beyond. Another plane.
The air thickened, pressing in like a vice. Kristoff took a step back, but Lorelei didn't flinch. She watched with wild, gleaming eyes as the runes ignited, first red, then gold, then a terrible void-black that swallowed the light.
The bone circle shuddered. Power erupted like a volcano, spitting flames, wind, whispers, names.
And then....her.
For a split second, the form of a woman appeared within the circle. Her body flickered like a candle in the dark. Hair like wildfire, limbs writhing, mouth open in a scream they couldn't hear. A flash of skin. Magic. Rage.
Rhiannan.
Kristoff howled with delight, throwing his head back. "We've got the bitch now!"
Lorelei laughed like a madwoman, blood spattering her cheeks as she clapped her hands. "Bring me her fucking tongue. I want it for my necklace."
But the Bone Seer didn't laugh.
She watched the image ripple, then waver.
And vanish.
The runes dimmed. The circle cracked.
The air stilled.
"What the fuck?" Lorelei hissed, stepping into the circle. "Where did she go?! She was right there!"
"She was coming through!" Kristoff roared, grabbing the Bone Seer by the throat. "You said she was ready!"
The Bone Seer had nothing to say. She stared ahead in silence.
Meanwhile in the God Realm.....
Nythera The MoonBlood Goddess stood at the edge of the Divine Veil, the threads of fate unraveling around her fingers like silken fire.
She felt the pull.
A violent, gnarled claw of magic tearing through realms...ripping open a passage of blood and bone to take what was not theirs.
Her daughter.
Their target was Rhiannan.
And it was working.
The vision flared before her, more real than a prayer. A blood drenched circle. A cursed fae's still beating heart. Phoenix feathers charred into ash. Screams of the innocent echoed from the mortal plane as the Bone Seer's spell tore through the veil like rot through silk.
They were dragging her in.
"No," Nythera breathed, voice cracking like thunder. "Not my daughter. Not again."
She stepped forward, wings of celestial fire flaring from her back. The Divine Court trembled.
Around her, her Guardians stirred.
Serelion, the Blade of Justice, dropped to one knee and offered his sword, pulsing with holy light.
Veyra, Keeper of Souls, reached into the ethers and wrapped Nythera in silver thread, her voice a chant of protection.
Orin, Warden of Realms, slammed his staff down, anchoring Nythera to the realm of mortal flesh.
They surrounded her in a star-formed circle, lending their essence with reverent silence.
"I will pay the price," Nythera said, her eyes glowing like a thousand dying suns. "Strip me of my gifts. Take my strength. My voice. My vision. My flame. But let me save her."
The cosmos heard her.
Magic surged.
Nythera lifted her hands, and the air split open like glass under a hammer. She pushed against the pull of the Bone Circle. Her palms bled divine ichor, gold and bright, as she countered the ancient blood magic.
The ritual's glow bent. Faltered.
And then, she saw her.
Rhiannan...caught mid scream, her form halfway between realms, yanked toward the dark.
Nythera roared.
"NO."
With the force of a supernova, she ripped her daughter free, cutting the thread that led to the dungeons of the Siren Queen, and instead flinging Rhiannan across the Veil with pinpoint precision.
Straight into the mirror realm.
Right into his throne room.
The vampire king who had waited centuries in shadows. The one fate had marked with sacred ink and silent longing. The one Rhiannan needed next.
Nythera's knees hit the divine floor. Her wings crumpled into embers. Her light flickered, sputtered, faded.
The Veil closed with a hiss, sealing her daughter safely away from the spell's grasp.
She gasped, every nerve raw, every bone scorched. Her Guardians caught her before she collapsed into stardust.
"You've done it," Serelion whispered.
"But at what cost?" Veyra murmured, brushing ash from her cheek.
Nythera could no longer speak. Her voice was gone. Her power, drained. The Watchers would come for her soon, and she would answer for breaking divine law.
But even as her eyes dimmed, she smiled.
She had seen it.
Rhiannan, safe. In his arms. His dark gaze full of startled recognition. Her trembling body cradled in his lap, heart still whole, magic still hers.
She was not alone.
Not this time.
Not ever again.
Nythera collapsed into stasis, her body turning to crystal, her mind locked in silent vigil.
And in her silence echoed a single truth...
A mother will always save her child. Even if it costs her everything.