Chronicles of the Merged Realms: The Aura Disaster (Continued)
Part VIII: The Prince's Legacy
As they hurried away from the floating lake and the pursuing Basilisk hound, Blaze's small hand instinctively went to his neck, feeling for something that had been hidden beneath his improvised winter clothing. Relief washed over his young face as his fingers closed around a pendant—a polished stone of deep azure blue shot through with silver veins, suspended on a leather cord.
"My moonstone," he whispered, pulling it out to examine it in the strange half-light of the merged world.
Maya glanced back at him as Steele and the team pulled them rapidly through the forest. "What is that?"
Blaze held up the pendant, which caught the light and seemed to glow from within. "The royal moonstone. Each member of my family has one, forged from the sacred stones of Arphon. It helps us control our transformations."
The pendant swung gently as the sled navigated the rough terrain, its inner light pulsing in rhythm with Blaze's heartbeat.
"In my world, those of royal blood can shift between forms at will," he explained, his eyes reflecting the stone's glow. "But the transformation can be... difficult to master, especially for younglings like me. The moonstone helps focus our energy."
Aleu, running in the harness team but listening intently, called back: "You mean you can change your form like we did?"
"Not exactly," Blaze replied. "You were changed by the merge—your forms were elevated. My people naturally exist in both forms. We can be more wolf-like or more human-like, depending on need."
To demonstrate, he closed his eyes and clutched the pendant tightly. The moonstone's glow intensified, bathing his face in blue light. Slowly, his features began to shift—his muzzle elongating slightly, his fur becoming thicker, his small frame taking on a more lupine posture. When he opened his eyes again, they had changed from their usual deep brown to a brilliant gold with vertical pupils.
"This is my wolf-form," he said, his voice slightly deeper and more guttural. "In Arphon, we take this shape for running, hunting, and battle."
Maya watched in fascination. Unlike the traumatic, bone-breaking transformations of werewolves in human mythology, Blaze's change was fluid and natural—as if both forms were equally his true self.
With another touch to the moonstone, Blaze shifted back toward his more humanoid appearance. "My siblings and I were training to master full transformations without the moonstone's aid," he explained. "Clarice and Munson can already do it. I... still need practice."
His hand moved to his side, where Maya now noticed a slender object wrapped in cloth and secured with a makeshift belt. Blaze unwrapped it partially, revealing what appeared to be a miniature naginata—a Japanese-style pole weapon with a curved blade, sized for a child but crafted with exquisite detail.
"My training weapon," he said with a hint of pride. "Master Thorn said I was progressing faster than any royal child he'd taught."
"You know how to use that?" Kodi asked, sounding impressed despite himself.
Blaze nodded solemnly. "All royal children learn combat from the cradle. The Basilisk Clan has threatened our family for generations." His expression darkened. "I wasn't allowed in real battles yet, but I've trained every day since I could walk."
Sylva, who had been ranging ahead as a scout, dropped back to join their conversation. "If you have your royal moonstone, young prince, then your siblings will have theirs as well. They act as beacons to one another, especially in times of need."
Blaze's eyes widened. "You mean I could use this to find my family?"
"Potentially," the Lynx woman nodded. "Though in this merged world, the old magics work differently. The connection may be distorted or weakened."
"We have to try," Blaze insisted, clutching the pendant tightly. "My siblings—they're all skilled warriors and mages. Clarice knows more about the Heart of Arphon than anyone except the royal historians. Munson can track anything across any terrain. Ervin understands magics that even the court wizards find difficult. Flare and I were together when the disaster happened—she must be somewhere in this world too!"
Maya, ever the scientist, was already considering the practical applications. "If these moonstones are connected, they could help us navigate this changed landscape. Are there any risks to using them?"
"They can attract attention," Sylva warned. "Magical items from Arphon give off an energy signature that those with the right senses can detect. If Gorguram's forces are in this world, they will be hunting for signs of the royal family."
A howl echoed through the forest behind them—closer than before. The Basilisk hound was gaining ground.
"We don't have much choice," Steele decided, his leadership instincts taking charge. "If there are more of these beasts coming, we need allies who understand them. Prince Blaze's family would be our best hope."
"I agree," Jenna added. "Besides, we promised to help him find his family."
Blaze looked at the moonstone with determination, then at his training naginata. "I may be the youngest, but I am still of royal blood. I can do this."
He closed his eyes again, holding the moonstone in both hands now. Instead of triggering a transformation, he seemed to be focusing on something else—a connection beyond the physical world. The pendant's glow strengthened, pulsing outward in waves of blue light.
"I feel... something," he whispered, eyes still closed. "Distant, but there. A response."
The moonstone's light suddenly shot upward in a thin beam, pointing northeast—toward the mountain ranges that separated them from Anchorage.
"There!" Blaze exclaimed, his eyes snapping open. "One of my siblings is in that direction. I'm certain of it!"
Maya consulted her maps, trying to reconcile the transformed landscape with her knowledge of Alaskan geography. "That would take us through Denali National Park—or what used to be Denali. No telling what it's become now."
"My people have scouts throughout these lands," Sylva offered. "Our camp is on the way. We can resupply there and perhaps gather more information about what lies ahead."
Another howl sounded, joined by several others. The Basilisk hounds were forming a pack.
"We need to move faster," Steele urged, his powerful new form straining against the harness.
As they increased their pace, Maya noticed that the trees around them were becoming stranger—more like the alien vegetation of Arphon that Blaze had described. Luminescent fungi grew in spiraling patterns up the trunks. Flowers that seemed to track their movement with bulbous centers turned as they passed. The very air felt different, charged with unfamiliar energy.
"The Between Places are growing," Sylva observed grimly. "The merge is not yet stable. Reality itself is still... negotiating between worlds."
Blaze held his moonstone pendant in one hand and gripped his training naginata with the other. Despite his youth, there was a regal determination in his bearing. "If my siblings and I can reunite, perhaps we can find the fragments of the Heart. Our bloodline is connected to it—we might be able to stabilize the merge."
"Or reverse it?" Maya asked, her scientist's mind always seeking possibilities.
Blaze and Sylva exchanged a meaningful look.
"That may no longer be possible," Sylva said gently. "Some changes, once made, cannot be undone without destroying both worlds in the process."
Maya fell silent, contemplating the implications. Her old world—the predictable, scientific Earth she had known—might truly be gone forever. The question now wasn't how to go back, but how to move forward in this new merged reality.
As they traveled deeper into the transformed wilderness, guided by the light of Blaze's moonstone, none of them noticed the shadowy figure watching their progress from a distant ridge. A figure with scaled fur and reptilian eyes that gleamed with malicious interest as it observed the distinctive blue light of a royal moonstone.
The hunt was on—not just by Basilisk hounds, but by agents of Gorguram himself, scattered throughout this new world and already adapting to its possibilities. The young prince's journey had only just begun, and dangers both familiar and entirely new awaited on the path ahead.
Part IX: Echoes of Power
The Lynx people's camp was hidden within a copse of trees that seemed to bend inward, creating a natural dome of branches and leaves. To the untrained eye, it would appear as nothing more than an unusually dense section of forest, but Sylva led them through a nearly invisible path that opened into a clearing filled with activity.
Dozens of Lynx people moved about the encampment, some in forms similar to Sylva's—feline-humanoid hybrids with tawny fur and distinctive tufted ears—while others appeared almost entirely human save for subtle markings and unusually graceful movements. Temporary structures had been erected using a combination of Earth materials and strange, flexible wood that seemed to grow into the shapes they needed.
"My people adapt quickly," Sylva explained as she led the unusual group into the camp. "It is both our strength and our survival."
As they entered, activity slowed as curious eyes turned toward them—particularly Blaze with his royal moonstone now prominently displayed, and the transformed sled dog family who represented something entirely new in this merged world.
An elder Lynx stepped forward, his fur streaked with gray, wearing robes adorned with symbols that seemed to shift when viewed directly. "Sylva. You bring strangers to our haven." His tone was neutral, neither welcoming nor hostile.
"Elder Thorne," Sylva bowed respectfully. "I present Prince Blaze of the Royal House of Arphon, Dr. Maya Chen of Earth, and..." she hesitated, looking at the transformed sled dogs.
"Steele," the lead dog stepped forward. "My mate Jenna, and our children Aleu and Kodi. We were... changed by the merge."
The elder's eyes widened slightly—the only indication of his surprise. "The boundary between beast and person blurs in this new world. Fascinating." He turned to Blaze and bowed more deeply. "Young prince, your father's alliance with the Lynx tribes has been honored for generations. Even in this changed reality, that bond remains."
Blaze straightened, summoning the formal dignity he'd been taught since birth. "Elder Thorne, I seek my family. My moonstone has detected one of my siblings to the northeast, in the mountains."
The elder's expression grew troubled. "The mountains you speak of have become a nexus of power—a Place Between Places where reality is particularly unstable. We have sent scouts, but few return, and those who do speak of strange phenomena and dangerous creatures."
"Basilisk hounds are tracking us," Maya added. "They came through some kind of portal at a floating lake."
Murmurs spread through the gathered Lynx people. Elder Thorne raised a hand for silence.
"If Gorguram's beasts have found ways through the Between Places, then he himself cannot be far behind. The balance of power in this merged world remains uncertain." He turned to Sylva. "Show them the findings."
Sylva nodded and led them to a larger structure at the center of the camp. Inside, a table held a map—part parchment, part modern paper—that seemed to be constantly updating itself, with lines and symbols appearing and fading as they watched.
"We are tracking the fragmentation of the Heart of Arphon," Sylva explained, pointing to glowing points scattered across the map. "Each fragment emits a distinctive energy signature. They appear to be drawing like to like—people from Arphon gather near one fragment, while Earth technologies function better near another."
Blaze leaned forward eagerly. "And the royal family? Have you detected any sign?"
"Here," Sylva pointed to a pulsing blue light in the mountain range. "This energy signature matches your moonstone's frequency. We believe it to be another member of the royal bloodline."
"The signal is faint," Elder Thorne cautioned. "Either wounded, or the power is being deliberately masked."
Blaze clutched his training naginata tightly. "I must go there. If one of my siblings is in danger—"
"We all need to reach Anchorage eventually," Maya interrupted, studying the map. "These mountains lie between us and the city. If we're careful, we can search for Blaze's sibling along the way."
Steele nodded in agreement. "The pack stays together. We promised to help find the prince's family, and that promise stands."
Elder Thorne studied them thoughtfully. "A human scientist, a werewolf prince, and beings newly awakened to consciousness... such an alliance would have been unthinkable before the merge." He gestured to the map. "Perhaps this is the new way of things—boundaries between kinds becoming as fluid as the boundaries between worlds."
He turned to one of his assistants. "Prepare supplies for their journey. And bring the shard."
The assistant hurried away, returning moments later with a small wooden box carved with intricate symbols. Elder Thorne opened it carefully, revealing a crystal fragment no larger than a thumbnail that pulsed with swirling colors.
"A fragment of the Heart," Blaze whispered, recognizing it immediately.
"Found by our scouts three days after the merge," Elder Thorne confirmed. "Too small to contain much power, but enough to help navigate the Between Places. It resonates with larger fragments—and with the royal moonstones."
He offered the box to Blaze. "By rights, this belongs to your family. Use it to find your siblings and perhaps restore some stability to our merged world."
Blaze accepted the box with solemn reverence. "My father will know of the Lynx people's loyalty when we are reunited."
Outside the tent, a commotion arose—shouts of alarm and warning calls in the unique language of the Lynx people. Sylva rushed to the entrance, her posture tensing as she looked out.
"The forest moves," she reported grimly. "The Between Places are shifting again. We must leave now if we hope to reach the mountains before the paths change."
Elder Thorne nodded. "Go with them, Sylva. Your knowledge of both worlds will serve them well."
Within minutes, their group had grown by one member and been equipped with fresh supplies. The modified sled had been reinforced by Lynx craftspeople, making it better suited to the increasingly unpredictable terrain ahead. Maya had been given a set of maps marked with known stable routes and dangerous anomalies.
As they prepared to depart, Blaze carefully secured both his moonstone pendant and the small fragment of the Heart in a pouch around his neck. His training naginata was strapped across his back, and he wore lightweight armor crafted by the Lynx people—practical protection sized for his small frame.
"The mountains hold answers," Sylva told them as they left the safety of the camp. "But they also hold dangers neither world has seen before. The Between Places are strongest there—reality itself becomes malleable."
Maya, ever the scientist, couldn't help but feel a thrill of discovery despite the dangers ahead. "If reality is malleable, perhaps it can be studied—understood. There must be patterns to how the worlds have merged."
"Science and magic," Blaze mused, "meeting in the middle. Just like our worlds."
As their unusual company set out toward the mountains, guided by the pulsing light of the royal moonstone and the tiny fragment of the Heart of Arphon, the forest around them seemed to watch their progress—trees bending slightly in their direction, animals pausing to observe their passing with unusually intelligent eyes.
The merge hadn't just changed individual beings—it had transformed the very consciousness of the world itself. And somewhere ahead, amidst mountains that now straddled two realities, a member of the royal family awaited—perhaps with answers that could help them navigate this new existence, or perhaps in desperate need of rescue from forces that sought to exploit the chaos of worlds colliding.
Either way, their path was set. The journey into the heart of the merged realms had truly begun.
Part X: The Shifting Mountains
The journey toward the mountains proved more challenging than any of them had anticipated. What had once been the pristine wilderness of Denali National Park had transformed into a landscape that defied the laws of both worlds. Gravity seemed to fluctuate in certain pockets—stones hovering momentarily before crashing down, water flowing uphill in gleaming rivulets, and clouds that hung so low they could touch them with outstretched hands.
"A Between Place grows stronger ahead," Sylva warned as they navigated a section of forest where the trees grew sideways, their trunks extending horizontally before curving upward toward a sun that seemed both too close and too distant at once.
Steele and his family pulled the reinforced sled with practiced precision despite the bizarre terrain. Their transformation had granted them not only speech and upright posture but enhanced strength and stamina as well. Jenna ran alongside her mate, her keen eyes scanning for dangers among the twisted landscape.
"There's something wrong with the air here," she noted, her nose twitching. "It smells... folded, somehow."
Maya consulted the Lynx maps, her scientific mind struggling to reconcile what she knew with what she now witnessed. "According to these markings, we're approaching what they call a 'reality seam'—a place where the two worlds haven't fully integrated."
Blaze clutched his moonstone tighter, its blue glow pulsing more rapidly as they proceeded. The tiny Heart fragment in the pouch next to it seemed to respond, emitting a complementary light that seeped through the fabric.
"My sibling is close," he declared with certainty. "But something's interfering with the connection. It feels... muffled."
Kodi, who had been scouting ahead, returned at a rapid lope. "There's a ridge up ahead where the land just stops, then starts again about fifty feet away. Nothing in between—just empty space with stars showing, even though it's daytime."
"A reality fracture," Sylva's ears flattened against her head in concern. "The seams of the merge are particularly weak there. We must cross carefully or risk falling between worlds entirely."
They approached the anomaly cautiously. Just as Kodi had described, the forest and mountainous terrain simply ended in a clean line, as if cut by an enormous knife. Beyond was a gap of absolute void, glittering with stars despite the daylight around them. On the far side, the landscape resumed—but subtly different, with vegetation that leaned more toward the alien flora of Arphon.
"The moonstone will guide us," Blaze said with more confidence than he felt. "The royal bloodline has crossed between realms before, in the ancient days before the worlds were fully separated."
Sylva nodded. "The tales speak of this—how the first king of Arphon walked between worlds using the Heart as his anchor."
"But we only have a fragment," Maya reminded them, eyeing the void with scientific fascination mingled with very human fear.
"And a royal moonstone," Blaze countered, removing the pendant from his neck. As he held it out toward the void, its blue light intensified, projecting a narrow beam that stretched across the emptiness to touch the opposite shore. Where the light met the void, faint outlines appeared—the ghostly suggestion of a bridge.
"The Heart fragment," Sylva urged. "Use them together."
Blaze carefully removed the tiny shard from its pouch. When held near the moonstone, both began to resonate, their lights intermingling and strengthening. The phantom bridge solidified slightly—still translucent, but now visibly a structure of crystalline steps spanning the void.
"I'll go first," the young prince declared, his royal training asserting itself despite his years.
"No," Steele stepped forward. "I'll test it. I'm the strongest, and if something happens—" he glanced at his family, his meaning clear.
Before anyone could argue further, Aleu darted forward. "I'm the lightest and quickest," she announced, already placing a cautious paw on the first crystalline step. It held firm beneath her weight, glowing brighter where she touched it.
"Aleu!" Jenna called out in alarm, but her daughter was already proceeding carefully across the bridge, one deliberate step at a time.
"It's solid," Aleu called back. "But... strange. I can feel both worlds at once when I stand on it." She continued her crossing, the bridge illuminating fully now in her wake, revealing an elegant structure of light and crystal spanning the void.
With Aleu safely reaching the other side, the rest followed—Kodi next, then Jenna, with Steele bringing the modified sled containing their supplies. Maya crossed with scientific instruments in hand, taking measurements of the void as she went. Blaze and Sylva came last, the young prince continuing to hold both moonstone and Heart fragment aloft, maintaining the bridge's solidity.
As Blaze stepped onto the far side, the landscape around them shimmered and settled, becoming more defined and stable. The void-crossing vanished behind them as if it had never existed.
"The Heart fragment responds to your blood," Sylva observed. "It strengthens reality around you."
Blaze nodded, replacing both items in their pouches. "My father said our bloodline was bound to the Heart in the earliest days. Its power flows in our veins."
The terrain before them now rose more steeply—the true mountains beginning in earnest. The vegetation here was predominantly Arphonian—spiral-trunked trees with luminescent leaves that shifted from purple to blue depending on the angle of light, ground cover that resembled moss but pulsed with gentle rhythm like a heartbeat.
"We're more in my world now than yours," Blaze told Maya, his posture relaxing slightly in the familiar environment. "These are Whisperwoods—they grow in the royal forests around our castle."
As if in response to his words, the trees rustled despite the absence of wind, their leaves turning toward the young prince in what almost seemed like recognition.
"The royal bloodline connects to the land itself," Sylva explained to Maya's questioning look. "Arphon recognizes its prince."
Maya adjusted her glasses, making mental notes. "Fascinating. A symbiotic relationship between ruling family and ecosystem—"
A distant, piercing cry interrupted her scientific musings—not quite animal, not quite human, but something in between that raised the hair on the backs of their necks.
"What was that?" Kodi asked, his ears pricked forward.
"Trouble," Steele growled, instinctively moving to a protective stance.
Sylva's eyes narrowed as she scanned the mountain slopes. "Gargoyles," she hissed. "Gorguram's aerial scouts. They thrive in mountain regions."
Blaze unsheathed his training naginata, the blade catching the strange light of the Whisperwoods. "They can sense the royal moonstone's power. We're being hunted."
Another cry sounded, closer now, followed by several more from different directions. Dark shapes circled against the sky—winged figures with stone-like skin and elongated limbs.
"They're coordinating to surround us," Jenna observed, her newly enhanced mind quickly grasping tactical realities.
Maya consulted the Lynx maps frantically. "There's a cave system marked ahead—possibly a safe haven."
"Or a trap," Sylva cautioned. "Caves in Between Places can lead anywhere—or nowhere."
Blaze's moonstone suddenly pulsed with renewed intensity. "No—it's right. The caves." His eyes widened. "I can feel my sibling there! The connection is stronger now!"
The decision made itself as the first gargoyle dived toward them, talons extended and stone jaws gaping. Steele and his family lunged back into their harnesses, pulling the sled at a sprint toward the cave entrance visible further up the slope. Blaze's naginata flashed as he deflected the gargoyle's attack with surprising skill for one so young, forcing the creature to veer away with a screech of frustration.
Sylva bounded ahead with feline grace, her own weapons—twin curved daggers—appearing in her hands as she cleared their path of encroaching hostile vegetation that seemed to animate as the gargoyles approached.
They reached the cave entrance just as more gargoyles dived toward them. The opening was narrow but tall, forcing them to enter in single file. Maya, last to enter, felt stone talons graze her jacket before Steele pulled her fully inside.
The interior of the cave defied expectations. Rather than darkness, they found themselves in a crystalline chamber illuminated by veins of glowing minerals that ran through the walls like luminous blood vessels. The air was warm and somehow pressurized, creating a sensation of being underwater without the wetness.
"These are royal crystals," Blaze whispered in awe, touching the glowing veins. "They grow only in the deepest chambers beneath Arphon's palace. How could they be here?"
"The Between Places connect what should be connected," Sylva replied, her voice equally hushed. "If your sibling found refuge here, they may have unconsciously shaped reality around them—especially if they possess a moonstone too."
The cave tunnel descended gently, the crystal illumination guiding their way. Outside, they could hear the frustrated screeches of gargoyles, unable or unwilling to follow them into the enclosed space.
As they ventured deeper, Blaze's moonstone began to pulse in a distinct rhythm—like a heartbeat. From somewhere ahead came an answering pulse of blue light.
"That's a royal signal!" Blaze exclaimed, his pace quickening. "It's the emergency pattern—asking for identification."
The young prince clutched his moonstone and sent a pattern back—three quick pulses, two long ones, three quick again.
The response was immediate—a flood of blue light pouring from around a bend in the tunnel. Blaze broke into a run, the others following close behind, weapons ready in case this was some elaborate trap.
They rounded the corner and emerged into a vast underground chamber where the crystal veins converged to form a domed ceiling that mirrored a starry night sky. In the center stood a figure holding aloft a moonstone identical to Blaze's, its light forming a protective sphere around a makeshift camp.
"Flare!" Blaze cried out, recognition and relief flooding his voice.
The figure lowered their moonstone slightly, revealing a girl perhaps two years older than Blaze, with the same royal features but longer, flame-colored hair that seemed to float around her head as if underwater. Like her brother, she appeared as a hybrid of wolf and human, though her form leaned more toward the human side, suggesting greater control of her shifting abilities.
"Blaze?" Her voice was disbelieving, then broke with emotion. "BLAZE!"
The protective sphere of blue light parted as Blaze ran toward his sister. They collided in a fierce embrace, both of their moonstones flaring brightly with renewed proximity.
"I thought—I thought everyone was gone," Flare's voice caught on a sob. "When the merge happened, we were separated. The portal just—it tore us apart."
"I know," Blaze soothed, though he was the younger. "But I found help. Good people." He turned to gesture toward his companions, who stood respectfully at a distance, allowing the siblings their reunion.
Flare looked up, truly noticing the others for the first time. Her eyes widened at the sight of Steele's family. "The merge affected them too," she whispered. "Just like the prophecies said—consciousness spreading across boundaries."
"Prophecies?" Maya stepped forward, her scientific curiosity piqued.
Flare nodded, reluctantly breaking her embrace with Blaze to address the group. "Our family's ancient texts speak of a time when the barriers between worlds would thin, when consciousness would flow like water, finding new vessels." She gestured toward Steele and his family. "When beasts would remember they were once more, and when humans would recall they were once less."
The cryptic statement hung in the air as Flare led them deeper into her camp. There, laid out on a makeshift table formed from crystal, was what appeared to be half of an ancient book—its pages singed around the edges as if torn from fire, covered in script none of them recognized except Blaze, who gasped in recognition.
"The Codex Lunari," he breathed. "Father kept it locked in the royal vault. How did you—"
"I was with Father when the merge began," Flare explained, her expression darkening with the memory. "He thrust this into my hands and pushed me through a portal with you. We were supposed to stay together, but the energies... they tore us apart."
She gestured to the book. "This contains the history of the Heart of Arphon—and prophecies about its potential fragmentation. Including instructions for how the royal bloodline might... repair what was broken."
Maya leaned forward, examining the strange text. "Can you translate it?"
Flare nodded solemnly. "Some of it. Enough to know that we need to find the other fragments—and our siblings. The royal moonstones must be brought together alongside the Heart fragments. Only then can stability be achieved."
"Stability, but not separation?" Steele asked, his deep voice resonating in the crystal chamber.
Flare looked at him with surprise, then understanding. "You fear losing what you've gained," she observed. "Your voice, your enhanced form, your new awareness."
Steele exchanged glances with Jenna and their children. "We were always... aware, in our own way. But now, we can express it. Share it. Be understood."
"The Codex speaks of transformation, not reversion," Flare assured him. "The worlds cannot be unmerged without destroying both. But they can be stabilized, preventing further fractures and Between Places from consuming everything."
Sylva, who had been examining the chamber's crystal formations with professional interest, rejoined the conversation. "The gargoyles found us too quickly for coincidence. Gorguram must have agents tracking the royal family specifically."
"He does," Flare confirmed grimly. "The Basilisk General, Ssatha, leads them. I've had several narrow escapes." She pulled back her sleeve to reveal a healing wound—three parallel gashes that glistened with an unnatural green tinge. "Poisoned claws. I've been treating it with royal crystal dust, but..."
"You need proper healing," Sylva stepped forward, examining the wound with concern. "Basilisk venom is slow but relentless."
Maya's scientific mind was already racing ahead. "If Gorguram's forces are specifically tracking the royal family, and they want the Heart fragments too, then wherever the fragments are—"
"Our other siblings might be there," Blaze finished, understanding immediately. "Either protecting them or being drawn to them just as we are."
Flare nodded, turning to a rough map she had scratched onto the crystal wall. "I've been marking energy surges that match the Heart's signature." She pointed to several locations, including one significantly larger burst near what had once been Anchorage. "The largest concentration is here—where your human city meets the sea."
"Anchorage," Maya confirmed. "That was our destination all along."
"Not just Anchorage anymore," Flare corrected. "According to the energy patterns, it's becoming something new—a merged capital where the powers of both worlds concentrate." Her finger traced a path through the mountains. "We can reach it within three days if we travel through the crystal network."
"Network?" Kodi asked, ears perked with curiosity.
Flare smiled for the first time—a flash of the royal child beneath the burden of their situation. "The royal crystals form tunnels between distant points. It's how our family has always traveled in secret when needed." She pressed her moonstone against a particularly large crystal formation, causing a section of the wall to shimmer and become translucent, revealing another tunnel beyond.
"The gargoyles can't follow us there," she added with satisfaction. "The crystal resonance disrupts their stone-skin. We'll have safe passage, at least for a while."
As they gathered their supplies and prepared to enter the crystal network, Maya found herself studying the two royal siblings with new interest—children carrying the burden of worlds on their small shoulders, yet displaying courage and resourcefulness beyond their years.
"Your father," she asked gently. "Do you believe he survived the merge?"
Flare and Blaze exchanged looks laden with unspoken hope and fear.
"Father is the strongest of us all," Flare said finally. "If anyone could navigate the chaos of the merge, it would be him. And if the Heart seeks to make itself whole again—"
"Then it would seek the one most connected to it," Blaze finished. "The king himself."
"Then we have even more reason to reach Anchorage," Steele declared, helping Jenna adjust her harness for the journey ahead. "Not just for our world, or yours—but for your family."
As they prepared to enter the crystal tunnel, the chamber suddenly trembled. Dust and small crystal shards rained down from the ceiling.
"What was that?" Aleu asked, looking up fearfully.
Before anyone could answer, a more violent shake rattled the entire cavern. The crystal veins flickered momentarily, plunging them into near-darkness before illuminating again.
"The Between Places are shifting again," Sylva warned, her feline eyes reflecting the crystal light. "Reality itself is becoming more unstable."
"We need to hurry," Flare urged, already stepping toward the tunnel entrance with her moonstone held high. "The Codex warned of this—accelerating instability as the fragments of the Heart resonate with each other across distance."
"What happens if we don't stabilize them in time?" Maya asked, though part of her feared the answer.
Flare's expression was grave beyond her years. "Then both worlds collapse into the void, Dr. Chen. Not just merged—but unmade entirely."
With that sobering thought hanging in the air, they entered the crystal tunnel—royal siblings leading the way with their moonstones, illuminating a path that glittered with the promise of hope and the shadow of apocalypse in equal measure. The journey to Anchorage—or whatever it was becoming—had taken on even greater urgency.
Behind them, unnoticed as they departed, a single scale—black as midnight and sharp as a razor—lay where it had fallen from Flare's wound. As the chamber emptied, the scale began to pulse with sickly green light, a silent beacon to those who hunted the royal blood.
The chase was far from over. In fact, it had only just begun.
Part XI: Royal Blood
Three days before Blaze and his companions discovered Flare in the crystal caves, another group moved through the shadows of what had once been the outskirts of Fairbanks. The city had transformed dramatically since the merge—modern buildings now intertwined with Arphonian architecture, some structures having fused together in ways that defied physics, creating impossible spires and walkways that connected third-story windows to rooftops across streets.
At the center of this transformed urban landscape stood what residents now called the Convergence Tower—formerly a university building, now a spiraling structure of glass, steel, and the distinctive blue-veined stone of Arphon's royal architecture. It pulsed with energy visible even from a distance, a beacon in the chaotic merged reality.
Avoiding main streets and staying to the shadows of hybrid alleyways, three figures in hooded cloaks moved with practiced stealth. The tallest of the three led the way, pausing occasionally to press a palm against building surfaces, as if reading information through touch. Unlike Blaze's more childlike appearance, this figure moved with the confidence and poise of early adulthood.
"The energy signature is stronger here," he murmured, his voice deep for his apparent age of eighteen. "The Heart fragment has definitely been moved to the Tower."
One of his companions—slightly shorter but with a scholarly bearing—adjusted spectacles made from a curious combination of modern glass and what appeared to be crystalline living material that adjusted itself to the wearer's face.
"Logical," he replied, voice precise and measured. "The fragment would naturally seek the highest concentration of merger energy. The university's research facility would have contained numerous scientific instruments—a perfect sympathetic environment."
The third figure—clearly female despite the concealing cloak—moved with fluid grace, one hand resting on the hilt of a weapon at her side. "Security has been increased since yesterday, Munson," she addressed the tallest. "I count at least twenty of Gorguram's converted guards, plus whatever human forces have aligned with them."
Munson nodded grimly, pulling back his hood slightly to reveal features similar to Blaze's, but more mature—the same regal lineage evident in his sharp jawline and amber eyes that now glowed faintly in the shadows. Unlike his younger brother, Munson's form held more of the wolf aspect—enhanced musculature beneath sleek fur, elegant ears that swiveled to catch distant sounds, and a presence that radiated contained power.
"They know we're in the city, Clarice," he replied to the female. "The moonstones can only be masked so much."
The scholarly figure—Ervin—removed his spectacles, polishing them with a cloth as he calculated possibilities. "The probability of extraction without confrontation has decreased to approximately twelve percent," he noted with clinical detachment. "However, the fragment must be secured before Gorguram's forces can harness its energy."
Clarice pulled her own hood back, revealing herself as the eldest of the royal daughters—her features striking and regal, with fur the color of platinum that seemed to shimmer with its own inner light. At sixteen, she carried herself with the bearing of a seasoned warrior, her cloak concealing multiple weapons positioned for quick access.
"Father entrusted the Heart's protection to us," she stated, her voice leaving no room for doubt. "We cannot fail him—especially now that we've confirmed the connection between the Heart's fragmentation and the merge stability."
Ervin nodded, replacing his spectacles. At seventeen, he embodied the scholarly tradition of the royal family—his form the most human-like of the three, with only subtle wolf characteristics that could be hidden when necessary. His fur was a deep chestnut, his eyes more green than the amber typical of the bloodline, marking him as especially gifted in the magical arts rather than martial ones.
"My calculations indicate that the Fragment won't remain stable in the Tower much longer," he explained, withdrawing a small device that resembled a cross between a smartphone and an ancient scroll. Its screen displayed complex equations and pulsing energy patterns. "The Tower's energy signature is growing chaotic. If the Fragment fully activates there..."
"Another reality quake," Munson finished grimly. "Like the one that separated us from Flare and Blaze during the initial merge."
The three siblings fell silent, the painful memory of being torn from their younger siblings—and their parents—still fresh despite the days that had passed. The merge had struck during a royal ceremony at the Heart Chamber deep beneath the palace of Arphon. Their father, King Zarnak, had barely had time to thrust fragments of ancient texts into their hands and order them to protect the youngest before reality itself had fractured around them.
"Any contact from mother?" Clarice asked softly, though she already knew the answer.
Munson shook his head, touching the royal moonstone concealed beneath his cloak. "Queen Zera's moonstone remains silent. Either she is unable to respond, or..."
He didn't finish the thought. They couldn't afford to dwell on the worst possibilities, not when they had a mission to complete.
"Our priority remains the Fragment," Ervin reminded them, though his voice held compassion behind its logical facade. "With each piece of the Heart we recover, our ability to locate the others—including our siblings and parents—increases exponentially."
Clarice's eyes narrowed as she studied the Convergence Tower. "The humans have established a research perimeter. They're working with Gorguram's people, but I don't think they understand what they're dealing with. They're treating it as a scientific curiosity rather than a metaphysical lynchpin."
"Their ignorance makes them dangerous," Munson observed. "Especially with Basilisk agents manipulating them."
Ervin consulted his device again. "There appears to be a subterranean access point—remnants of the human building's maintenance system combined with what seems to be a manifestation of the royal passages from our palace."
"The Between Places creating connections again," Clarice murmured. "The merge seeks familiar patterns, even across worlds."
"Then we use that to our advantage," Munson decided, his leadership as the eldest royal child asserting itself. "Ervin, you'll create a divination shroud to mask our moonstones once we're inside. Clarice, you take point—your sensing abilities will detect Basilisk agents even in human form."
Both siblings nodded, accepting their roles without question. Years of royal training had prepared them for crisis situations, though none could have anticipated the merging of entire worlds.
"And the humans?" Clarice asked, practical as always.
Munson's expression remained firm but compassionate—a mirror of their father's leadership style. "We avoid casualties whenever possible. These humans didn't ask for their world to be merged with ours. They're victims as much as allies of Gorguram."
"Some appear to be adapting remarkable well," Ervin noted, gesturing subtly toward a group of humans passing at the end of the alley. Unlike most of the disoriented population they'd observed, these walked with purpose, some showing subtle signs of physical transformation—elongated canines, enhanced musculature, eyes with vertical pupils.
"The merge affects different beings in different ways," Clarice observed. "Consciousness seeking its true level, as the ancient texts predicted."
They waited until the street cleared before moving again, working their way toward the access point Ervin had identified. As they approached, Ervin withdrew several small crystals from his pouch—each pulsingn with muted energy. With practiced precision, he arranged them in a specific pattern on the ground before them.
"Divination shroud activating," he murmured, touching each crystal in sequence with the tip of his index finger, causing them to flare briefly before settling into a synchronized pulsing rhythm.
The air around the three siblings seemed to ripple, then settle—leaving them apparently unchanged to casual observation, but their energy signatures now masked from magical detection.
"Duration?" Munson asked, practical as always.
"Approximately forty-three minutes before the crystals require realignment," Ervin replied. "The merged world's magical currents are still unstable, reducing efficiency by twenty-two percent."
Clarice had already located the access point—a maintenance door that had merged with what appeared to be a section of royal passageway stonework, the distinctive blue-veined marble of Arphon palace blending seamlessly with modern steel. She pressed her palm against it, sensing for threats beyond.
"Clear for the moment," she reported. "But there's something... unusual about the energy patterns inside. Not quite Basilisk, not quite human."
"The merged beings," Munson suggested. "New entities emerging from the chaos."
Ervin nodded in agreement. "The theoretical models predicted this—hybrid consciousness arising where the barrier between worlds was weakest."
With practiced efficiency, Clarice bypassed the door's security—part lockpicking, part magical manipulation—and they slipped inside. The interior of the Tower was even more dramatically transformed than its exterior. What had once been university corridors now resembled the grand hallways of Arphon's palace, though technological elements remained embedded in the walls—computer terminals sprouting from marble surfaces, modern lighting fixtures hanging alongside magical illumination crystals.
They moved silently through the transformed building, encountering few people as they descended toward the energy signature Ervin's device tracked. Those they did see wore expressions of fascination and confusion in equal measure—researchers and security personnel attempting to understand the impossible changes to their reality.
"The Heart Fragment is three levels down," Ervin whispered, consulting his device. "In what appears to have been a research laboratory."
As they descended deeper into the building, signs of Basilisk influence became more prevalent—subtle serpentine patterns etched into doorframes, security personnel with unnaturally rigid postures and occasionally flickering vertical pupils.
"Converted humans," Clarice observed grimly. "Gorguram's influence spreads quickly."
"The fragment accelerates the process," Ervin explained. "Its unstable energy makes consciousness more... malleable."
They paused at a junction, pressing themselves into shadows as a group of researchers passed—their lab coats now adorned with subtle scaled patterns, their movements slightly too fluid to be fully human.
"The specimen continues to resist standard analysis methods," one was saying, voice slightly sibilant. "Energy output increased twelve percent after the last reality fluctuation."
"The Basilisk Overseer demands results," another replied. "The master grows impatient."
Once the converted researchers had passed, Munson looked to his siblings with renewed urgency. "They're planning to weaponize the fragment."
"Typical Gorguram strategy," Clarice's hand moved to one of her concealed weapons. "Corrupt the Heart's power rather than seek balance."
"The laboratory is just ahead," Ervin indicated, his device pulsing more rapidly as they approached a set of double doors—modern design on one side, Arphonian royal craftsmanship on the other, the merger creating a strangely beautiful hybrid.
Through small windows in the doors, they could see a laboratory transformed—scientific equipment interwoven with magical apparatus, and at the center, suspended in a containment field of energy and light, a fragment of the Heart of Arphon approximately the size of a human fist. Unlike the tiny shard Blaze carried, this piece pulsed with violent energy, sending visible waves rippling through the air around it.
"Significantly larger than anticipated," Ervin observed, adjusting his calculations. "This may explain the accelerated reality distortions in this region."
Munson studied the room's occupants—five researchers wearing protective gear that combined modern hazmat elements with magical wards, all showing signs of Basilisk corruption.
"Clarice, how many?" he asked quietly.
She closed her eyes briefly, her senses extending beyond normal perception. "Five visible, three hidden—magical constructs in the corners. Basic wardstone guardians."
"I can disable the constructs," Ervin offered, already withdrawing components for a counterspell from his pouch.
Munson nodded, his decision made. "We move on my signal. Priority is the fragment—secure it before the alarm spreads."
His siblings readied themselves, years of training evident in their fluid positioning. Munson reached within his cloak to grasp his moonstone, its power thrumming against his palm.
"For Arphon," he murmured. "For Earth. For balance."
With that, he pushed the doors open, and the three royal siblings launched into coordinated action. Ervin immediately cast his counterspell, freezing the magical constructs before they could activate. Clarice moved with blinding speed, her twin short swords—family heirlooms that shimmered with ancestral magic—disabling the converted researchers' equipment before they could trigger alarms.
Munson strode directly toward the containment field, his moonstone now openly displayed and glowing with intense blue light. As the researchers turned to face this unexpected intrusion, their movements hampered by Clarice's precision strikes, Munson spoke a word in the ancient royal tongue—a command that resonated with the Heart Fragment itself.
The containment field wavered, then collapsed entirely as the Fragment recognized the royal bloodline's call. The researchers scrambled to reactivate their equipment, but Ervin's magic had already spread through their systems, causing displays to flicker and controls to lock.
"Prince Munson," one of the researchers hissed, his humanity slipping further as stress revealed more Basilisk characteristics. "The Overseer warned us you might come."
"Then the Overseer should have provided better security," Munson replied calmly, reaching for the now-exposed Fragment.
As his hand neared it, however, the Fragment's energy surged unexpectedly. The laboratory lights flickered, gravity seemed to waver, and reality itself rippled visibly around them.
"Ervin?" Munson questioned sharply, pausing just short of touching the Fragment.
The scholarly prince was already analyzing the reaction, his device scanning rapidly. "The Fragment has been partially activated," he reported with alarm. "They've been experimenting on it—destabilizing its inherent balance."
"Can you neutralize it?" Clarice asked, maintaining her guard position as the researchers began to transform further, scales erupting across their skin as the Fragment's wild energy accelerated their corruption.
"Not completely," Ervin admitted. "But I can create a temporary containment." His hands moved in precise patterns as he began casting a stabilization spell.
One of the researchers lunged suddenly toward an alarm panel, but Clarice intercepted him with inhuman speed, her blade flashing. The researcher fell back, clutching a wounded arm that now dripped with fluid that seemed neither fully blood nor reptilian ichor.
"Containment ready," Ervin announced, producing a crystal vessel inscribed with royal sigils. "But we'll have approximately twelve seconds between extraction and sealing before—"
"Before reality fractures locally," Munson finished. "Understood."
With royal authority in his bearing, Munson raised his moonstone higher, channeling his bloodline's connection to the Heart. The Fragment responded, its erratic pulsing gradually synchronizing with the moonstone's steady blue glow.
"Now!" he commanded.
Moving with practiced coordination, Munson grasped the Fragment as Ervin positioned the crystal vessel beneath it. The moment of contact sent a visible shockwave through the laboratory, knocking equipment from tables and causing the converted researchers to cry out in pain as the Fragment's resonance interfered with their corrupted forms.
Munson swiftly transferred the Fragment into Ervin's vessel, which his scholarly brother immediately sealed with an incantation. The wild energy contracted, contained, though the vessel visibly strained to hold it.
"Successful containment," Ervin confirmed, though sweat beaded on his brow from the effort of maintaining the spell. "But temporary—the Fragment's energy is still highly unstable."
"Time to leave," Clarice announced, as alarms finally began to sound throughout the facility. "Basilisk forces will converge quickly."
Munson nodded, already leading the way toward an emergency exit that Ervin's research had identified in their planning. As they moved, the entire building shuddered—reality itself protesting the Fragment's disturbance.
"A reality quake initiating," Ervin observed with clinical detachment despite the danger. "The extraction has triggered a cascading instability."
They raced through corridors that were literally shifting around them—walls flowing like liquid in some places, doorways appearing and disappearing, floors undulating like waves. Behind them, they could hear shouts and the distinctive hissing commands of Basilisk officers responding to the alarm.
"This way," Munson directed, following the pull of his moonstone, which seemed to be detecting a path of greater stability through the chaos.
They burst through a fire exit that now opened onto a street that hadn't existed before the merge—a hybrid space between Fairbanks and Arphon's market district. Citizens ran in panic as buildings wavered like mirages around them, some structures merging with others in impossible configurations.
"The quake is expanding," Ervin warned, checking his instruments. "This entire sector could destabilize completely."
Clarice suddenly stopped, her head turning sharply toward the northeast. "Munson—do you feel that?"
The eldest prince paused, his moonstone suddenly pulsing with a new rhythm. "Another moonstone," he confirmed, his eyes widening. "Two of them, responding to the Fragment's energy."
"Flare and Blaze?" Clarice asked, hope evident in her voice for the first time in days.
Ervin consulted his device. "The signature matches their resonance patterns. They're approximately seventy miles northeast, moving in what appears to be..." he paused, rechecking his readings. "A crystal conduit? That's not possible unless—"
"Unless they've found access to the royal network," Munson finished, a smile briefly breaking through his serious demeanor. "They're alive, and they're resourceful."
Before they could celebrate this discovery, a new danger emerged from the chaotic streets behind them—a tall figure whose human appearance was belied by the scaled armor that seemed to grow directly from his skin and the vertical-pupiled eyes that glowed with malevolent yellow light.
"The royal children," he hissed, voice carrying even over the pandemonium of the reality quake. "So predictable in your sentimentality."
"Ssatha," Munson identified, instinctively moving to place himself between the Basilisk General and his siblings. "Still doing Gorguram's dirty work, I see."
The Basilisk General's mouth twisted in a cruel smile, revealing fangs that glistened with venom. "The master will be pleased when I bring him both the Fragment and the royal heirs."
Behind him, more Basilisk soldiers appeared—some fully reptilian, others in various stages of transformation from their originally human forms. They formed a semi-circle, cutting off the most obvious escape routes.
"Ervin," Munson said quietly, "how stable is the containment?"
"Stable enough for combat conditions," his brother replied, "but not indefinitely."
Clarice had already shifted into a combat stance, her twin blades at the ready. "We need to break through northwest—there's a thinning in their line."
Ssatha seemed amused by their whispered planning. "You believe you can escape? Your parents made the same mistake—thinking they could outrun destiny."
The casual mention of their parents sent a visible ripple of tension through the three siblings.
"What do you know of our parents?" Munson demanded, his regal composure momentarily cracking.
The Basilisk General's smile widened. "Only that King Zarnak fought... admirably before Gorguram subdued him. And Queen Zera—such loyalty, refusing to leave her husband's side even as reality collapsed around them."
"He's baiting us," Ervin warned, though his own voice had tightened.
"Tell me, young princes and princess," Ssatha continued, taking a step forward as his forces tensed for attack, "do you think you'll fare better than they did? Your father's blood stained Gorguram's claws such a lovely shade of crimson."
With a growl that embodied his wolf heritage, Munson's control finally slipped. His form shifted further toward his lupine aspect—muscles bulging, claws extending, his royal moonstone flaring with blue fire that matched the rage in his eyes.
"For the King and Queen!" he roared, the sound more bestial than human, and lunged toward Ssatha with royal fury.
The Basilisk General had anticipated this reaction, his own weapons—twin curved daggers that dripped with magical venom—already drawn to meet the attack. The two collided in a blur of movement, Munson's royal combat training matching Ssatha's serpentine speed.
Clarice immediately engaged the Basilisk soldiers, her blades dancing in complex patterns that created a defensive perimeter around Ervin, who clutched the contained Fragment while beginning to cast a new spell—one designed for escape rather than combat.
As the royal siblings fought, the reality quake intensified around them. Buildings began to collapse into each other, streets rippled like water, and the very sky above seemed to crack, revealing glimpses of other places—other possibilities—in the fractures between worlds.
"The Fragment is resonating with the quake!" Ervin called out, his containment vessel now glowing white-hot with energy. "We cannot remain here!"
Munson, locked in fierce combat with Ssatha, growled in acknowledgment. Despite his youth, the eldest prince fought with all the skill his royal training had instilled—matching the ancient Basilisk General blow for blow, his moonstone's power enhancing his strength and speed.
Clarice whirled through the Basilisk soldiers, her blades leaving trails of blue light as they connected with corrupted flesh. "Ervin, whatever you're planning, do it now!"
The scholarly prince had completed a complex series of gestures, his own moonstone now hovering before him as he channeled its power into a spell rarely attempted outside of controlled conditions.
"Preparing short-range translocation," he announced, voice strained with concentration. "Munson—disengage!"
With a final powerful strike that momentarily staggered the Basilisk General, Munson leapt backward toward his siblings, landing in a defensive crouch. Blood—his own and Ssatha's—matted his fur in several places where the poisoned daggers had found their mark.
"Now, brother!" he commanded.
Ervin released his spell with a shout in the ancient royal tongue. The three moonstones—one from each sibling—suddenly aligned their energies, creating a triangular field of blue light around them. The Heart Fragment in its containment vessel pulsed in sympathy, adding its own chaotic power to the spell.
Ssatha lunged forward with inhuman speed, his claws extended to grasp them—but too late. Reality itself seemed to fold around the royal siblings, their forms blurring as the translocation took effect. The Basilisk General's claws closed on empty air as they vanished in a flash of blue light.
The translocation was unlike any royal travel spell previously attempted—rough, unpredictable, amplified by the Fragment's wild energy. The siblings felt themselves stretched across possibilities, glimpsing fragments of other merged locations as they traveled. When they finally rematerialized, it was with a bone-jarring impact that sent them sprawling across rough ground.
Munson recovered first, instantly alert for threats as he checked their surroundings. They had landed in a forest clearing—but one where the trees grew sideways before curving upward, where gravity seemed lighter than normal, and where the air itself shimmered with the telltale signs of a Between Place.
"Ervin? Clarice?" he called, helping his siblings to their feet.
Ervin clutched the containment vessel, which had miraculously remained intact despite the journey. "The Fragment is stabilizing," he reported, voice weak from the magical exertion. "And I believe we're..." he consulted his device, which flickered erratically before displaying coordinates, "approximately sixty miles from the moonstone signals we detected."
"Flare and Blaze," Clarice confirmed, her keen senses already oriented toward the distant resonance. "They're moving through the crystal network, heading southwest."
"Toward Anchorage," Munson realized. "Or whatever it's becoming in this merged world."
Ervin nodded, already calculating. "If we intercept them at the network junction point here," he indicated a location on his device, "we could reunite within fourteen hours."
Munson helped bind a wound on Clarice's arm—a gash from a Basilisk soldier's claw that hissed faintly as royal blood reacted to the venom. "And Ssatha?"
"The translocation would have disrupted his tracking abilities temporarily," Ervin assured them. "But he'll recover quickly. Basilisk Generals don't easily abandon their prey, especially when Gorguram commands them personally."
The three siblings stood together in the strange forest clearing, battered but unbroken, the Fragment secured and the hope of reunion with their younger siblings now tangible rather than merely wishful.
"We find Flare and Blaze first," Munson decided, royal authority in his tone despite his youth. "Then together, we locate mother and father."
Clarice touched her moonstone, which still resonated faintly with the distant signals of her younger siblings. "Father always said our bloodline's strength was in unity. Five royal moonstones together can accomplish what one cannot alone."
"And with the Fragment," Ervin added, indicating the contained Heart piece, "our power to stabilize the merge increases exponentially."
Munson gazed toward the southwest, where the distant glimmer of what had once been Anchorage was visible through gaps in the twisted forest. The city's skyline now incorporated impossible spires and structures that had never existed on Earth, the merger creating a new urban landscape that served as a beacon for all beings navigating this changed reality.
"We are the children of King Zarnak and Queen Zera," he declared, invoking their royal heritage. "Guardians of the Heart, protectors of both worlds now merged into one. We will not fail our legacy."
As they gathered their strength for the journey ahead, none of them noticed the tiny scale—black as midnight and sharp as a razor—that had embedded itself in Munson's cloak during his battle with Ssatha. Like its twin that lay in the crystal cave Flare had just vacated, it pulsed with a sickly green light, maintaining a connection between hunter and hunted that no translocation spell could fully sever.
The royal hunt continued—from both sides—with the fate of merged worlds hanging in the balance.
To be continued in Chapter 3: Royal Family Reunited