Aelin's crossbow didn't waver. "Drop the dagger, Vessel."
Lyra tightened her grip on the glacial blade. "Why?"
"Because that thing in your hand isn't a weapon. It's a key. And I'd rather not watch you unlock the end of the world today."
Kellen edged backward, his runestone shard flaring as shadows pooled around their feet. Lyra kept her eyes on Aelin. "You know the Scourge."
"Intimately." Aelin lowered her weapon just enough to tug at the collar of her cloak. Beneath it, her throat was scarred—not with the elders' jagged marks, but with spiraling burns that resembled celestial constellations. "I was you. Centuries ago. Now, are we talking, or do I put a bolt through your kneecap to prove I'm serious?"
Lyra hesitated, then tossed the dagger. It clattered against the cobblestones, frost spiderwebbing outward from its blade. "Happy?"
"Thrilled." Aelin jumped down, landing with feline grace. Her copper mask hid everything but her eyes—one brown, one milky white. "Follow me. And bring the boy. His little rock might buy us five more minutes before the Hollowing turns us into ice sculptures."
---
Aelin led them to the ruins of the Sentinel's altar, hidden beneath the village chapel. Lyra had passed the crumbling structure a thousand times, never guessing what lay beneath its roots. The stairs spiraled into darkness, the air thickening with the scent of iron and petrichor.
"The first Vessel built this place," Aelin said, lighting a torch etched with the same runes as the Standing Stones. "Her name was Eirlys. She thought she was saving the world by trapping the Scourge. Turns out, she just gave the Sentinel a new toy."
The chamber below was a cathedral of contradictions. The walls were carved with scenes of creation and ruin—the Sentinel and Scourge standing side by side, shaping mountains and seas, before their falling-out split the sky. At the room's center stood a shattered stone altar, its pieces held together by veins of glowing amber.
"The Shattered Star," Aelin said, gesturing to the amber. "What's left of their pact. The Sentinel used it to bind the Scourge, but it's also the only thing stopping either of them from reducing this world to cinders."
Lyra traced a crack in the altar. "The Scourge said destroying the Sentinel's heart would free everyone."
"And drinking poison cures thirst. For a moment." Aelin's laugh was bitter. "The Sentinel's 'heart' isn't a thing—it's a *place*. The Eclipse Crown, where the first Vessel sacrificed herself. Tear it out, and you'll unleash a void even the Scourge can't control."
Kellen frowned. "Then why does it want Lyra to do it?"
"Because the Scourge is a parasite. It doesn't want freedom—it wants a new host." Aelin turned to Lyra. "Your bloodline isn't just a key. It's a *door*. And the second you open it, everything you love becomes its flesh and bone."
---
The Scourge's voice slithered into Lyra's mind as they climbed back to the surface.
*"You doubt me, Vessel. You trust a woman who wears lies like armor."*
Lyra gritted her teeth. "You lied first."
*"I withheld. There's a difference. Aelin fled her destiny. She let her world burn to save her own spirit. Will you do the same?"*
Before Lyra could retort, screaming echoed from above. Kellen sprinted up the stairs, his shard's glow piercing the gloom.
The survivors' camp was in ruins.
Dozens of villagers—those who'd escaped the initial Hollowing—lay scattered, their bodies encased in crystalline ice. At the center stood a figure Lyra recognized: Old Tomas, the weaver. Or what was left of him. His skin had turned to bark, his eyes hollow pits swarming with starlight.
"Thornspawn," Aelin spat, drawing a sword from her back. Its blade was forged from the same glacial material as Lyra's discarded dagger.
"Lyra…?" Tomas's voice was a chorus, layered with whispers. *"The Scourge requires your answer."*
Kellen lunged with his runestone shard, but Tomas backhanded him into a frozen trough. The boy's cry snapped something in Lyra. She grabbed Aelin's sword.
"No!" Aelin shouted. "That blade's attuned to my blood. It'll kill you if—"
Lyra swung.
The sword's edge passed through Tomas like mist, then solidified inside his chest. He screamed, collapsing into ash and wilted thorns. The remaining starlight fled his eyes, streaking skyward toward the Eclipse Court.
Lyra dropped the sword, her palm blistering. "You were saying?"
Aelin stared at her. "Impossible. Only a Vessel can wield star-iron without…" She trailed off, then yanked Lyra's sleeve up, revealing tendrils of shadow writhing beneath her skin. "Oh, you idiot. It's already in you."
---
**Chapter 4 Word Count**: 1,503
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**Preview of Chapter 5: The Eclipse Crown**
As the Scourge's corruption spreads through Lyra's veins, Aelin reveals a desperate plan: infiltrate the Eclipse Court and shatter the Shattered Star, severing both the Scourge's and Sentinel's ties to the mortal realm. But the court is a maze of illusions, and Lyra's greatest threat may not be the Scourge—but the remnants of the first Vessel's soul, which still clings to the throne…
Ready for the heist of the millennium? Let me know how you'd like to dive deeper! 🌌