Kaelion didn't remember falling asleep.
One moment, he sat beside a flickering incense spiral in the Worldpine's inner chamber, staring into its curling smoke. The next, he stood in a city made of ash and echo.
Not ruins—no. This place had never been whole.
The world stretched gray in every direction, muted and hushed. Towering structures—burned half-tall—jutted from the ground like shattered ribs. Black spiral symbols etched the stonework in repeating patterns, some cracked and bleeding light, others glowing faintly like dying stars.
Ash drifted like snow. Soft. Endless. Choking.
Kaelion turned in a slow circle.
There were no people. No wind. No sound.
But he wasn't alone.
"This isn't one of mine," Umbrix murmured, his voice like frost brushing glass. "I would've warned you."
"Then whose dream is this?"
"Not a dream. A gate-pulse."
"A what?"
"A message from the Gate. It wants to know you—not the boy. Not the prince. You."
A deep, thunderous pulse rumbled beneath his feet.
Thoom-thoom…
Kaelion took a hesitant step forward.
And the ash stirred.
A long hallway unfurled in the air ahead—constructed not from stone, but from memory. Kaelion recognized it immediately.
The palace.
But not the one he had grown up in.
Older. Grand in a way modern palaces could only imitate. Walls of smooth silverroot stone, adorned with spiral sigils. Hanging gardens draped from the ceiling. Banners of deep maroon and gold fluttered on phantom winds.
And painted across the farthest banner—
Was his own face.
Except older.
Sharper.
A crown rested on that face, its shape impossible—spirals that twisted in upon themselves.
Kaelion swallowed the rising dread and walked forward.
The hallway whispered as he passed.
Statues of old kings turned to look at him. Murals blinked. Runes shifted beneath his feet, pulsing with every step like he was walking on the spine of something ancient.
At the far end stood a throne.
And someone sat upon it.
A girl.
Wren.
But not the Wren he knew.
She wore a robe of spiral-threaded silk, silver trim crawling like vines down the sleeves. A crown of folded branches rested atop her head—part antler, part ash. Her posture was regal. Her eyes glowed faintly—not with magic, but with remembrance.
"Kaelion," she said softly.
His name on her lips felt too gentle, too familiar.
He stopped. "Wren?"
She smiled faintly. "You called me that once. But I had a different name here."
He stared at her, heart drumming. "What is this?"
"A choice," she replied.
Behind her, the throne faded into ash. The ground trembled.
And the Gate rose from the dust behind her.
It towered above everything. Its chains writhed slowly, pulsing with bonelight. The spiral seal at its center was cracked, light leaking from its core.
Kaelion's Spiral mark burned.
"You stand between two paths," Wren said. "One will complete the second bond. The other will keep it sealed."
He took a step back. "Why me?"
"Because you are the only one alive who remembers the price," she said. "Even if you don't know it yet."
"This is a lie," Umbrix warned. "This is the Gate using memory. Don't trust it."
"She feels real."
"Of course she does. That's the point."
Wren stepped toward him.
And chains appeared.
Spectral and lightless, they snapped around her wrists, pulling her to her knees. Her crown clattered to the stone floor and shattered like glass.
She looked up at him, tearful.
"If you walk through that door," she whispered, "I will vanish."
Kaelion's throat closed.
"If this is a test…" he asked, "what am I being tested for?"
"Conviction," Umbrix answered. "The Gate wants to know who you'll choose."
"Then there's no right answer."
"No. Just one you'll have to live with."
Kaelion stepped closer to her. "What happens if I set you free?"
"The seal remains unbroken," she said. "But the Spiral weakens. Another Gate may open in your place."
"What happens if I walk through?"
"The seal breaks," she said. "And I die in your arms."
"But you're not real."
She didn't answer.
Because she didn't have to.
Kaelion stared into her eyes—and saw not Wren, but pieces of her. Memories. Flickers. Glimpses. A thousand possibilities stitched into one form.
A construct.
But that didn't mean the pain wouldn't be real.
The Gate pulsed louder.
"Choose, Spiralblood…"
The air grew hotter.
The city began to crumble around them. Banners turned to smoke. Statues cracked. The throne split in two.
Kaelion looked between Wren and the Gate.
Between love and legacy.
Between loss and power.
He closed his eyes.
Kneeling, he reached for Wren's hand.
She tried to pull back. "Don't."
"I have to," he whispered.
"You don't."
"I do."
He leaned close.
And kissed her forehead.
Then stood.
And turned his back to her.
"I choose her," he said.
The Gate screamed.
Chains shattered. Light surged. The seal cracked wide open and released a pulse so deep it tore across the dream-world like a tidal wave. Kaelion stumbled forward, blinded.
And the Spiral on his arm split—
Right through the second coil.
He woke gasping.
His entire body burned.
The world spun. Wren's face hovered over him, eyes wide with fear. "Kaelion!"
He tried to speak, but light poured from his mouth like breath.
His Spiral mark had spread to his shoulder. The second coil—once dormant—was fully ruptured, glowing gold-white like fresh lightning carved into his skin.
"You're overheating," Wren muttered, holding his face. "It's trying to push too much through you too fast—"
He grabbed her wrist, voice hoarse.
"I didn't take the seal."
She froze.
"What?"
"I said no. I chose to leave it behind."
Wren looked at the mark again.
But the seal was still broken.
"That's not supposed to happen."
"I didn't want more power," Kaelion said. "But it gave it to me anyway."
They both stared at the mark as it pulsed again—once, slow, and final.
"The Gate chose," Umbrix said in Kaelion's head. "Even when you refused."
Kaelion slumped back into Wren's arms.
He couldn't stop shaking.
They sat in silence for a long time.
Kaelion, grounded by Wren's presence.
Wren, trying to pretend she hadn't seen the way the Spiral mark had flared in the exact shape of Umbrixar's crest.
She held his hand tightly.
"You were tested," she said.
Kaelion nodded.
"I chose you."
She squeezed his hand once more.
But in her chest, something ached.
Because deep down…She feared he was no longer choosing her alone.