Kale, Liliana, and Rika worked in silence as they prepared Serassa's final resting place within the temple.

Kale knelt by her side, his hands resting briefly on the shroud before he whispered a few words to Aeloria, the goddess to whom Serassa had dedicated her life. He asked for grace, for peace, for the goddess to take Serassa's spirit to wherever her faithful were meant to go.

The words felt clumsy, uncertain, like trying to play a song with broken strings. He wasn't sure if Aeloria was even listening, or if she ever would. He didn't know if this was how it worked, if his words meant anything at all. But he wanted to try. Serassa had fought for something greater than herself, something sacred. It felt wrong to let her go without at least trying to give her some measure of dignity in death, something that might bring her the peace she hadn't found in her final moments.

He didn't have the answers, and maybe he never would. But as he whispered the last of his prayer, he hoped, in whatever small way he could, that this was enough, that Serassa would find rest, and that they wouldn't leave this place feeling like they'd failed her.

As if in answer, a warm glow began to pulse softly from Serassa's form. Slowly, her body shimmered and dissolved, transforming into hundreds of tiny, ethereal blades that glided through the air. They circled around them before dispersing, fading gently into nothingness.

After a solemn pause, Kale looked to the Archivist. "You got what you came for. Now, it's our turn."

The Archivist inclined his head. "Then ask your questions."

Liliana took a step forward. "The general, you said she's west of the city. Is it true?"

The Archivist nodded. "Yes, she is. Hidden but not beyond reach."

"And Lifedrinker, how do we destroy it?"

The Archivist's expression turned thoughtful, and for a moment, he seemed almost regretful. "That, I do not know. But I can guide you to one who should."

With a graceful motion, he summoned a bell and held it out to them. "This bell contains the information you need. When you're ready, it will reveal its secrets."

Liliana accepted the bell carefully, feeling its subtle warmth in her palm.

"One last thing," Kale said. "You mentioned others who operate in the shadows. Who are they?"

"They are forces tied to the same powers you seek to counter. Allies to Xeroth, hidden within the cities, influencing from behind veils and beyond walls. Some are not even aware of their own roles, yet they serve his purpose. They are the eyes, the whispers, the unseen hand. Know this, if you seek to counter them, you must be prepared to face the shadows in places you may least expect."

"What the hells is that supposed to mean?" Rika asked.

"You've already crossed paths with House Bloodthorn, but Xeroth's influence stretches far beyond them. He's patient, embedding his reach across cities and courts, into places that might surprise you. And the longer this goes on, the fewer allies you'll have. Even now, forces are aligning to stop you.

"One such force is a man they call Carrion Voss. At least, they say he's a man. A towering juggernaut wrapped in tattered robes, his presence alone enough to suffocate hope. Pain and death are not tools to him, they are his purpose.

"His scarred, bald head bears the marks of the countless battles he's been in. The stories claim his hollow eyes, devoid of emotion, strip courage from anyone who meets them. Carrion Voss doesn't simply kill, he extinguishes. To face him is not to fight, it's to be swept away by calamity given form.

"They whisper that he has walked the earth for longer than any human could or should, his existence defying the natural order itself. Carrion Voss is not just a killer, he is a force that lingers, eternal and unrelenting, a shadow of ruin that refuses to fade."

The trio exchanged a look, something dark passing between them as a shared memory surfaced. They had met someone like this before, the unstoppable figure they'd barely escaped at the temple of Orestios.

"That's the guy who almost killed us in Orestios's temple!" Rika said.

"Then you understand the force you're up against," the Archivist said. "You may have slipped from his grasp once, but Carrion Voss doesn't forgive loose ends. You've caught his attention, and that alone is enough to seal your fate. He'll see you broken, piece by piece, in the way he enjoys most."

"For him, this isn't a hunt; it's a certainty. He's felt your resistance, tasted your defiance. And when he decides to come for you, there won't be warnings or whispers. There will only be him, and the devastation he brings. Carrion Voss doesn't leave his work unfinished."

"So, he's coming for us?" Liliana asked.

The Archivist nodded. "Yes. You irritated him just enough to linger in his memory. Carrion Voss isn't one for patience or elaborate schemes. When he decides it's time, he'll come straight for you, brutal, direct, leaving ruin in his path."

"How long do we have?" Kale asked.

"Not long, I'd wager. Carrion Voss isn't exactly inconspicuous, his movements have been noticed, and I hear he's closing in on Nyridia. It seems he's picked up your scent."

Rika crossed her arms. "But we're stronger now. This time, we'll be ready for him."

The Archivist shook his head. "Strength, yes. But Carrion Vos, he lives for that. He'll expect it, even savor it. Resistance, to him, is just seasoning for the kill, each defiant stand only makes the ending more satisfying."

"Thank you for the information," Liliana said. "And the knowledge you sought, I trust our arrangement is complete?"

"Indeed. You've delivered what I sought, and I have provided what you needed. May it serve you well. And remember, in this city, nothing goes unseen."

The Archivist gave a polite nod. "I'll see myself out. Good luck, Lady Liliana. Bladeweaver. And to you, the… hammer-wielding philosopher." He gave Rika a small, amused bow, and with that, he turned and exited the chamber, leaving them alone in the quiet of Aeloria's temple.

They stood there for a moment, the silence settling around them as they considered all they had just learned. Rika broke the quiet. "Did that creepy fucker spy on us in the bathhouse?"

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"I wouldn't put it past him," Kale said.

"He knew enough already, that's clear. He probably has eyes and ears everywhere," Liliana said.

"At least we know what we're dealing with. Now… what are we going to do next?" Kale asked.

"We can go after Carrion Voss directly, try to track him down before he finds us. Risky, but we could take him by surprise if we're lucky," Liliana said. "Or we focus on reaching the general. If we have her support, it'll give us a better chance if Carrion Voss shows up again. But leading him to her isn't without risk."

Rika nodded. "And then there's the temple itself. Serassa may have left something behind here, something that could help us, especially against Lifedrinker."

"So… we search for clues here, go after Carrion, or move west and hope the general is our best shot. Either way, we'll need to make a choice."

"Let's look around the temple," Kale said. "We're already here, and we might find something useful."

Wandering through the corridors, they eventually found an armory. The room held rows of finely-crafted swords, each one gleaming with the care of a weapon meant for a bladeweaver. Rika ran her hand along one of the hilts, whistling softly.

"Nice quality here," she remarked, holding the blade out to Kale.

He took it for a moment, examining the craftsmanship before shaking his head. "Good blades, but nothing special. Not like the ones I've already got." He set the weapon back in place, and they moved on.

They continued through the halls, marveling at the ancient carvings etched into the walls. Each one depicted scenes most likely representing bladeweaver lore, battles fought and won, deities and ancient beings intertwined in a web of power and legend.

There was an entire wall dominated by a grand depiction of Aeloria herself, standing amidst a maelstrom of spectral blades and searing light. Red markings covered her skin, her face a portrait of unrestrained fury, eyes blazing with the fire of something ancient and untamed. She was both beautiful and terrifying, her wrath so palpable it felt alive.

"Imagine the stories in these walls," Liliana said, fingers tracing the engravings.

Finally, they stumbled upon a small, dimly lit chamber at the far end of the temple. The walls were lined with shelves holding peculiar artifacts and rune-marked relics. Liliana turned to Kale.

"Remember, Kale—don't touch anything."

He turned around slowly, holding a small, dusty artifact in his hand. "Uhh…"

"Kale, you absolute—" Liliana started, but before she could finish, the room shifted. The walls flickered, the ground seemed to tilt, and then everything dissolved into a haze.

When the haze cleared, they found themselves in a different version of the temple, shrouded in a dim, ethereal glow. Before them stood Serassa, her face calm yet troubled as she moved through the temple alone, her every step laced with an intense determination. They were in her memories.

Serassa's footsteps echoed through the pristine halls, sharp and purposeful. Her eyes flicked toward the shadows, her expression tense as she paused, glancing over her shoulder.

"Emeria was never meant for this path. If you think she fell by mere chance, then you don't understand what we're up against."

She waited, as if listening, but the group couldn't make out a response from whoever she was addressing, only an unsettling silence.

"It's not just about the sword. She had more power in her than even she realized. More than the Scarlet Veil could contain." She paused. "Liliana… she'll be different, stronger, if she doesn't make the same mistakes."

She waited again for the unseen to respond.

"Lord Bloodthorn believes he can control it, that he's beyond its reach. Fool. I'll cut him down, take Lifedrinker from his grasp, and seal it here, where it will stay buried, forgotten as it should be."

"This isn't just about strength. It's about endurance, survival. If Liliana can understand that, she'll become something far greater than any of us. But the price… she'll have to be ready to pay it."

The memory shifts, placing Serassa alone in the dim chamber, her face tense and worn, one hand wrapped around the hilt of Lifedrinker. She stares into the void, the hollowness in her eyes betraying a grief that has burrowed deep.

"I'm sorry, Emeria," she whispers. "I wanted to keep you safe… I thought I could."

A voice slides through her thoughts, smooth as a blade slipping between ribs.

"You failed her."

The words struck deep. Tears welled in her eyes.

"You knew her better than anyone. You knew what she would do. You knew she would never stand by while he wielded me. And yet you let it happen.

"You should have acted the moment you learned the truth. You should have taken me. But you hesitated. You waited. And now she's dead. Because of you."

Serassa squeezed her eyes shut.

"How many more, Serassa?"

Lifedrinker's voice curled around her like a vice. "How many more will die because you hesitate? Because you are too slow to act? Too slow to decide?

"I was never meant for a blood mage. I was meant for a true warrior. A bladeweaver—one strong enough to wield me. Strong enough to end this.

"You can still save them. But not like this. Not as you are."

A final whisper, smooth as silk, sharp as steel.

"To save them, you must act.

"To save them, you must wield me.

"You know it's true."

Serassa shook her head. "Save them? You destroy everything you touch. Every ounce of power you offer comes at a price too steep."

"Power has always been the price… and the reward. To be strong enough to save them all, of course there is a price to be paid. There is always a price. But… is the reward not worth it? The power to save them all?"

A flicker of doubt shadows her face, a glimmer of temptation, but it vanishes as quickly as it appeared. "You're nothing but poison, and I'd sooner die than let you take another from me. Emeria deserved better, and I'll make damn sure no one else is lost to you."

"So stubborn, Serassa. You hold me, yet refuse to embrace the strength I offer. In time, you'll see. They always do."

She closes her eyes, bracing herself as though fighting back something immense within her. "Maybe I'll fail. But if there's even a chance to bury you here, to end this once and for all… that's what I'll do. Even if it ends with me."

With one final, determined breath, she steels herself, muttering, "This ends with me."

The memory fades, leaving an impression of Serassa's struggle, a bitter, unrelenting battle against Lifedrinker's seductive call for power, as she clung to the last of her resolve.

The memory shifts again, a faint haze settling over Serassa's form. Her face is more worn now, lines of exhaustion etched deeply into her features, as if she's been carrying a burden far beyond what anyone should endure. She stands alone, her posture rigid yet weary, as she speaks to someone unseen.

"A new bladeweaver has awakened?" She pauses, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her face. "How long has it been?"

There's silence, broken only by the faintest of murmurs from the unseen figure, to which she nods.

"They're moving faster than we expected," she says. "Yes… I still have the sword." Her hand tightens around Lifedrinker's hilt, and she looks down at it with a mixture of resentment and resignation.

Her voice drops to a strained whisper. "I've tried, but… I couldn't. It won't let me."

Another murmured response, soft and indistinct, seems to reach her, and she closes her eyes briefly. "I know…"

Her voice grows distant, almost haunted. "I know what's coming, and I know what I have to do. But this path... it leaves no room for doubt."

Lifedrinker's voice slithers into her mind once more, dark and gleeful. "A new bladeweaver… Yes. He'll come for me. They always do. And when he does, I will make him mine."

"You think I'll just hand you over?"

"Oh, you misunderstand, Serassa. He will come to me willingly. Driven by his need for power, his desire to protect, his doubt that festers even now. He'll seek me out, and he'll wield me."

"Over my dead body."

"That's a price I'll gladly pay. They all come to me, Serassa. The weak, the broken, the ones who think they can bend me to their will. And he'll be no different."

Her hand trembles, and for a brief moment, her face betrays a flash of desperation. She draws a shaky breath, whispering, "I'll find a way to end this curse… to hide you so well that no one will ever come for you again."

But even as she says it, a flicker of doubt flashes through her eyes. Could she truly keep the sword hidden? Could she resist its call long enough?

The dark chuckle echoes through her mind, laced with menace and a twisted patience. "It's already too late, Serassa. He is coming, and I will be waiting."

As the memory begins to fade, Lifedrinker's words linger in the silence, heavy with a dark promise. "You may resist… but you know as well as I that he will find me. And I will show him what true power is."

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