The translucent do shimred softly at the center of the chamber, its surface alive with runes that pulsed in a steady rhythm. It arched over the bed where Princess Riela lay, enclosing her completely in a cocoon of protective magic.
Gavriel stood just outside its boundary.
His hands were clenched at his sides, knuckles white, his gaze fixed on the woman kneeling at the edge of the do. Althea’s palms hovered inches from the glowing barrier, fingers trembling as she carefully aligned her energy with the spellwork embedded within it. One wrong push, one careless surge, and the do would either shatter or reject her entirely.
Neither outco was acceptable.
Inside the do, Riela lay still, her breathing shallow but steady. Her skin held a faint grayish pallor, a lingering mark of the corruption that had taken root inside her. Thin lines of dark residue traced faintly beneath her skin, like shadows refusing to let go.
Queen Mother Wilma stood to Gavriel’s right, her hands clasped tightly before her chest. Her lips moved in silent prayer, eyes never leaving her daughter. Minister Marius remained beside her.
“Please,” Wilma whispered, voice barely audible. “Almighty... please.”
Althea closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. The do reacted at once, its surface rippling like water disturbed by a breeze. She adjusted, lowering her energy output, syncing her pulse with the rhythm of the runes.
Gavriel felt it then.
The pull.
The familiar, terrifying sensation of her pushing herself too far.
Before he could speak, the air shifted behind him.
Zander stepped into the chamber, his focus imdiately snapping to the do.
“It’s done,” he said quietly to Gavriel. “Cain, Rett, and all remaining followers have been handed to Uriel. They’re secured. Waiting for your judgnt.”
Gavriel nodded once. “Good.”
Zander’s gaze returned to Althea, noting the strain in her posture, the faint tremor in her shoulders. “She’s aligning correctly,” he observed. “But she’s forcing the breach too fast.”
“I want you to guide her,” Gavriel said without hesitation. “Make sure she finishes this safely.”
Zander inclined his head and approached the do, careful not to cross the warded threshold. He knelt beside Althea, voice low and steady.
“Althea,” he said. “The do isn’t your enemy. It’s your anchor. Let it carry so of the burden.”
Her lips parted as she took a shaky breath. “It’s resisting .”
“Because the corruption recognizes you,” Zander replied. “You’re not just healing. You’re rewriting what doesn’t belong.”
Althea nodded faintly and shifted her hands, one pressing flat against the do’s surface while the other hovered near her chest. Light blood beneath her palm, soft and warm, seeping into the do like sunlight through glass.
Inside, Riela’s body stirred.
The dark residue beneath her skin reacted violently, writhing like sothing alive.
Althea gasped as pain shot through her arm, the backlash slamming into her chest. The do flared, absorbing the worst of it, but the impact still rattled her to the core.
Gavriel stepped forward instinctively, stopping just short of the barrier. “Althea—”
“I’m fine,” she whispered through clenched teeth. “I just... need a mont.”
Zander’s eyes narrowed, impressed despite himself. “You’re adapting faster than most trained archmages.”
She let out a shaky laugh. “I don’t feel trained.”
“You don’t need to be,” he said. “You’re doing this on instinct. Trust it.”
The do’s runes brightened as Althea adjusted her approach. Instead of pushing directly into the corruption, she let her magic flow around it, weaving through the protective lattice of the do. Slowly, patiently, she began to unravel the dark spell strand by strand.
Riela cried out softly.
Wilma gasped, gripping Marius’s arm. “Riela!”
“It’s part of it,” Zander said calmly. “The spell is being uprooted.”
Minutes stretched into what felt like hours.
Sweat dampened Althea’s hairline. Her breathing grew uneven, her strength visibly waning. The do flickered, reacting to the strain, but it held.
Then the corruption fought back.
A violent surge erupted inside the do, dark energy slamming against the barrier. Althea cried out as the force rebounded, nearly knocking her backward.
“Althea!” Zander snapped. “Anchor yourself. Breathe.”
She pressed her forehead against the do, eyes squeezed shut. “I won’t let it take her.”
And then sothing changed.
Her magic deepened.
It wasn’t louder. It wasn’t stronger in a destructive sense. It beca steadier, heavier, filled with resolve. The light pouring from her palm softened, warming the do from within rather than attacking it.
The corruption recoiled.
Inside the do, the dark residue began to lift, peeling away from Riela’s body like smoke drawn upward. The runes burned bright white as the final strands shattered.
Riela arched once, gasping sharply—
Then she went still.
The light faded.
The do dimd, its runes settling into a dormant glow.
Althea sagged forward, exhaustion crashing over her. Gavriel caught her instantly as the do dissolved, pulling her against his chest.
Riela breathed, a deep, steady breath. Color slowly returned to her cheeks.
Wilma let out a broken sob and rushed forward as the last remnants of the do vanished. “Riela... my daughter...”
Riela’s lashes fluttered open. “Mother?” she murmured.
Relief flooded the chamber.
Zander stared at Althea, genuine awe etched across his face. “You didn’t just heal her,” he said quietly. “You overrode an ancient corruption without breaking the containnt spell.”
Gavriel barely heard him.
He cradled Althea close, his voice rough. “You did it.”
Gavriel did not let Althea walk on her own. He lifted her into his arms and when they reached the cottage, Gavriel carefully laid her on the bed. He adjusted the pillows, pulled the blanket over her, and made sure she was comfortable before stepping back. Only then did the tension in his shoulders ease slightly.
“You need to rest,” he said gently but firmly. “No argunts.”
Althea managed a small smile. “I wasn’t planning to argue.”
His hand brushed her cheek, warm and steady. “I won’t be gone long,” he added. “There’s sothing I need to take care of.”
She caught his wrist before he could turn away. “Gavriel... be careful.”
His expression softened. “I will.”
He leaned down, pressed a brief kiss to her forehead, then forced himself to leave before he stayed longer. The door closed quietly behind him.
The room fell into silence.
Althea closed her eyes, intending to sleep, but her mind would not settle. Her body was exhausted, yet her thoughts kept drifting.
A soft knock ca from the door.
“Co in,” she said.
Candice stepped inside, holding a small tray with water and herbs. She smiled, but it looked strained, like she was forcing herself to be calm. She set the tray down and stood beside the bed.
“How are you feeling?” Candice asked.
“Tired,” Althea replied honestly. “But I’ll be fine.”
Candice nodded, but her hands were clenched at her sides. She looked distracted, her eyes flickering toward the door as if she expected soone to appear.
Althea noticed imdiately that sothing was wrong.
Without speaking, Althea reached out with her ability.
The mont she read Candice’s mind, words flooded in clearly, unfiltered.
‘Zander has already captured Cain. Uriel has him restrained. Gavriel finally went to face him. Should I go and witness it?’
Althea’s breath hitched as she suddenly pushed herself up from the bed.
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