ASHES OF THE SUNDERED STAR

Tyrus: The Sanctum of Lies

The world returned in fragments.

Cold stone against Tyrus's cheek. The drip of water echoing in a vast, hollow dark. The metallic tang of blood—his own—pooling beneath him. He groaned, pushing himself onto his elbows, and froze.

The chamber was familiar.

Black marble floors veined with gold. Walls carved with bas-reliefs of robed figures bowing to a starless sky. At the room's center stood an altar of obsidian, its surface stained with old blood.

The Obsidian Spire.

But that was impossible. The Spire had crumbled decades ago, destroyed in the cult's last purge. Yet here it stood, pristine, the air thick with incense and memory.

"Welcome home, Varys."

Tyrus's daggers were gone. He turned slowly, already knowing whose face he'd see.

Selene stood framed by arched windows, moonlight silvering her midnight hair. She wore the Eclipsed Veil's ceremonial robes—onyx silk embroidered with constellations. Beautiful. Deadly. Alive.

"You're a hallucination," Tyrus said, his voice raw. "The general hit me harder than I thought."

She smiled, the same sly curve of lips that had haunted his fractured dreams. "Am I?" Her fingers brushed his cheek, warm and solid. "You always were stubborn, little priest."

He recoiled. "Don't call me that."

"Why? It's who you are." She gestured to the altar. "You built this. Led the rituals. Opened the first gate for the Old Dark." Her smile faded. "And when it demanded a sacrifice, you gave them me."

Tyrus's chest ached—not from the wound, but from the dagger of truth in her words. Flashes of memory: Selene's laughter as they stole grimoires from the Solaris vaults. Her scream as the portal yawned open. The way her hands had clawed at his robes as he pushed her into the dark.

"I didn't know," he whispered.

"Liar." She seized his chin, her nails drawing blood. "You knew the price. You chose power."

A door creaked open. Cultists filed in, their hooded faces shadowed, chanting in the guttural tongue of the Old Dark. Tyrus's tongue burned—he still remembered the words.

"Rise, forgotten one. Feast on their fear."

Selene pressed a dagger into his hand—his dagger, the one he'd lost to the general. "The parasite remembers you, Varys. It wants its herald back."

The cultists dragged a prisoner forward: a girl, no older than sixteen, her eyes wide with terror.

"Kill her," Selene purred. "Reclaim your place."

Tyrus stared at the blade. The runes glowed faintly, whispering promises. One cut. All the power you've lost. All the memories.

The girl wept.

He flipped the dagger—and pressed it to Selene's throat.

"Nice try," he said. "But I don't play with puppets."

Her form rippled. The chamber shuddered, walls cracking to reveal the Voidspawn general's leering eye. The illusion shattered—he was back in the Wastes, the dagger at his own neck.

The general's voice boomed: "You cannot escape what you are."

Tyrus grinned through bloody teeth. "Watch me."

He slashed the dagger across his palm, smearing blood on the blade's runes. "Eras vey'koth!"

The dagger exploded.

Kael & Lira: The Weaver's Gambit

The Voidspawn general was learning.

Every time Soulbrand's light seared its shadow-flesh, the creature adapted—scales hardening, wings sprouting serrated feathers. Kael's arms trembled with exhaustion, but he swung again, driving it back from Lira.

"The shard!" she shouted. "It's the only way!"

He didn't argue. The meteorite fragment glowed in her grip, its light making the general flinch. But every pulse deepened the black veins snaking up her neck.

She's running out of time.

Kael feinted left, Soulbrand slamming into the creature's knee. It roared, talons raking his shoulder, but Lira lunged, pressing the shard to its chest.

The general screamed.

Light erupted—not gold, but void-black, tinged with stars. The creature's form unraveled, shadows dissolving to reveal a humanoid core: a man in ancient armor, his face twisted in agony.

"Free… me…" he gasped.

Lira recoiled. "Gods—it's a person!"

The armored man seized her wrist. "The parasite… made us…" His eyes pleaded. "Kill it. Kill—"

The general reformed, smashing him to the ground.

Kael hauled Lira back. "What was that?"

"A knight," she breathed. "One of Nyrisia's. The Voidspawn—they're corrupted souls."

The general loomed, its voice a chorus of the damned. "We are legion. We are hunger."

Lira's grip tightened on the shard. "Then we starve you."

She slammed the meteorite into the earth.

The ground split.

Convergence: The Altar of the Old Dark

The explosion flung Tyrus into blessed nothingness.

When he woke, the world was sideways. Or maybe that was the blood loss. The dagger's blast had torn a crater in the Wastes, scattering the general's remains. His left hand was gone, reduced to a charred stump.

Worth it.

He staggered upright, following the pillar of black light tearing through the sky—Lira's doing, no doubt. The beam originated miles ahead, near the canyon's edge.

"Persistent bastards," he muttered, and began to walk.

—

The crater was massive. At its center, Lira knelt, the meteorite shard embedded in a crack leaking oily darkness. Kael stood guard, Soulbrand raised against the Voidspawn remnants circling like vultures.

Tyrus limped into the light. "Miss me?"

Kael's eyes widened at his missing hand. "What happened?"

"Had a disagreement with nostalgia." He nodded to Lira. "She's glowing."

And she was. The shard's energy pulsed through her, veins of starlight battling the black corruption. The crater's edges crumbled, revealing steps leading underground.

"It's a temple," Lira said. "Nyrisia's first prison. The parasite's here."

Kael helped her stand. "Can you seal it?"

"No." She touched the shard. "But I can talk to her."

Tyrus picked up a rock, tossed it down the steps. No echo. "Let me guess: we're going in."

The look Kael gave him could've curdled milk. "You're free to leave."

"And miss the fun?" Tyrus flashed his bloody grin. "Never."

—

The temple was a mirror of Tyrus's vision—black altar, starless murals, chains hanging from the ceiling. But here, the chains held a corpse.

Nyrisia's skeleton gleamed silver, impaled by a sword of pure light. Beneath her, shadows coiled like serpents.

Lira approached, drawn to the body. "She's… sad."

"Focus," Kael said. "How do we stop the parasite?"

"The shard." She pressed it to Nyrisia's ribcage. "It's a key. To merge with her, or—"

The sword disintegrated.

Darkness erupted.

The Parasite's Whisper

It had no form, no voice, yet it spoke in all their minds at once.

YOU HAVE SERVED ME WELL.

Tyrus clutched his head. "What the hells is that?"

LIRA. YOU CRAVE ANSWERS. KAEL. YOU CRAVE REDEMPTION. TYRUS. YOU CRAVE FORGIVENESS.

The shadows thickened, taking shape—their worst fears. Kael's father, rotting. Lira's temple elders, accusing. Selene, bleeding.

I AM YOUR TRUTH.

Lira gripped the shard. "You're a leech. You twisted Nyrisia's love into hate."

AND YOU WILL TWIST FURTHER.

The darkness struck.

—

Kael fought his father's corpse. "I didn't kill you!"

"You hesitated," the corpse rasped. "Weak."

Soulbrand flared. "I'm not you!"

The hammer's light burned the shadow away.

—

Tyrus faced Selene. "I'm sorry."

She laughed. "You will be."

He headbutted her. "Not today."

—

Lira stood before Nyrisia's spirit. "Help me."

The goddess wept black tears. "I cannot. It feeds on my pain."

"Then starve it." Lira plunged the shard into her own chest.

Light.

Pain.

Power.

The Choice

The parasite recoiled. WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?

Lira floated above the altar, eyes twin supernovas. "Given you a taste of your medicine."

The shard glowed in her heart, fusing with Nyrisia's essence. The Voidspawn screamed as her light purged their corruption.

Kael grabbed Tyrus. "We need to go!"

"What about her?"

Lira met Kael's gaze. "Seal the temple."

He hesitated.

"Now!"

They ran. Soulbrand's final blow collapsed the entrance, burying Lira and the parasite in rubble.

—

Dawn broke over the Wastes.

Kael sat in the sand, staring at his blistered hands. Tyrus lay nearby, half-dead but smirking.

"She's gone," Kael said.

"Maybe." Tyrus nodded to the horizon.

A figure stumbled from the dust—Lira, alive, the shard's glow gone. Her veins were clean.

Kael caught her as she fell.

"Did it work?" she whispered.

He looked at the healed sky. "For now."

But deep below, in the dark, something scratched.