The tower was alive again.
After years of silence, the witch's chamber pulsed with dark light — the ancient runes carved into the walls flickering like veins of fire beneath stone.
She stood before her crystal orb, its surface swirling with smoke and color. Within it, she saw Lorin and Seraphina, walking side by side through the misty paths of Rynvale.
Their laughter echoed faintly in the chamber — warm, human, alive — and it made her teeth clench.
"Again," Maryse whispered, her voice sharp and trembling. "It's happening again…"
The sorcerer Maelren shifted beside her, his shadow stretching long against the stone floor. "You mean the merging?"
She nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving the orb. "Look at them. The closer they walk together, the brighter their hearts align. The trinket has found its keepers… and love is the thread tying it all together."
She reached a trembling hand toward the vision. "Every part of him that yearned for power she quenches it with each glance, each care, each LOVE!!!!. He forgets the power thirsty King he was, while his heart grows strong."
The sorcerer's tone was cautious. "You sound almost afraid."
"Afraid?" The witch laughed softly, a sound like breaking glass. "No… I'm furious."
Her gaze deepened, voice turning venomous. "He was born from Varion's flame — the same hunger, the same strength. But she… she is undoing him, just as her past self once did."
The orb's surface shimmered, and the image shifted — showing Seraphina smiling as Lorin held her hand, their shoulders brushing under the soft light of dawn.
The witch's lips curled into a snarl. "See how he looks at her? He remembers her laughter, her warmth… but not the power. He remembers the man, not the conqueror, not the legend."
Her nails scraped across the edge of the crystal, leaving faint trails of light. "Loss made him the power thirsty legend. And now love dares to make him forget."
The sorcerer glanced at her warily. "Then what will you do?"
Her voice dropped to a whisper, low and cold. "What I should have done long ago. Break them — before the alignment is complete."
She waved her hand over the orb, and the image bled away — dissolving into darkness. A moment later, it reformed, showing the palace, its towers bathed in moonlight.
Her reflection shimmered on the glass as her magic stretched outward, reaching the kingdom's edge. "If I cannot touch their hearts," she murmured, "I will poison what surrounds them."
And as the orb's glow deepened to crimson, her laughter echoed through the tower — soft, slow, and cruel — a sound that promised the calm before the storm.