The next night, the Seal lay in silence, its air heavy with frost and stone. Papers littered the desk in uneven piles. Across the far wall, the frozen lake carried a faint glow. Halven stood suspended inside the icy block, one hand pressed to ice wall’s surface, his face serene within the blue sheen. The sight left me uneasy, too much like death disguised as calm.

We gathered in a half circle before the elders, to include Yukari.

Isa’s gaze held authority as always, yet right now her voice carried effortless steadiness belied in the tired lines around her eyes.

“Tonight we attempt what has failed before. Fusion to keep the lake stable. Binding to return the entities to their prison. But first, the Transmutation. The increased power will give us what we need to maintain the spell and keep the entities from attacking us.”

The words twisted through me. None of us had been told who the spell would take. My eyes slid to Veyn, searching his face, his stillness, the dark vines resting against his collar. My stomach clenched until it hurt. If it was him, if he meant to give himself away, I would not survive it.

Next to me, Garnexis stood rigid, arms crossed over her armor, chin lifted like she dared fate to test her. Rielle’s eyes clung to Halven’s frozen form, her posture taut with the effort of ignoring Neir, though his shadow pressed close at her side. Ardorion shifted restlessly beside the others, his confidence dulled for once, as if even he had no jest sharp enough to cut through the tension.

We did not stand alone. Lo and Elio lingered at the edge of our group, subdued in their silence. Orivian kept himself near Garnexis, though his eyes swept the chamber with his usual defiance. Aster stood apart, her stillness threaded with unease. Every one of us had been summoned, no escape from what would be asked tonight. Nor would any of us want to escape if staying meant Halven would be freed.

Isa let the silence drag. “Now you know the order. But not the one who gives up their life tonight.”

My throat burned. Every part of me screamed at the thought of Veyn stepping forward.

Yukari moved instead. Her body blurred at the edges, silvery-blue mist spilling from her arms before curling back into shape. Hair the shade of water drifted as though caught in an unseen tide, streaked with white that shimmered like ice. Her eyes, luminous blue and endless, swept over us. “It is me. I will be the one Transmutated.”

Relief crashed through me, violent and overwhelming, leaving guilt in its wake. I wanted to weep with thanks that it was not Veyn, yet shame coiled tight in my gut. To be glad at another’s death, even hers, blackened me.

Elio staggered forward, voice breaking, head shaking as if to deny what he had heard. “I don’t know about anyone else, but Transmutating a person is a lot different than a plant. You cannot ask us to kill you, or anyone.”

Yukari’s mouth curved, humor edged with pity. “While I appreciate your honorable nature, dragon, I am not asking. I’m telling you. My hands have ended more lives than all the combined years you all have been alive. A thousand times over. Whole villages destroyed under my command. Minds broken in silence until they begged for death. Some deserved it. Many did not.”

The chamber fell silent. My heart hammered with the truth of her words. Besides Garnexis, we had grown up in a place of safety, where death came rarely and with reason. Yukari spoke of a world stripped bare of mercy.

Her voice hollowed, carrying centuries of shadow. “That debt binds me more tightly than any chain. Tonight, it ends with me. Tonight, I begin my redemption before seeking it in the eight hells.”

The thought of ending her struck wrong, yet the scales she described left little question. One death against thousands already lost, and thousands more spared. My acceptance startled me. I had not thought myself capable of it, but her own words sharpened the truth. If she chose it, if this sacrifice saved Halven, saved Nythral, saved the world, then how could I deny her?

Her eyes, luminous as glacier fire, lifted to Isa. “When the Transmutation is done, Neir, Rielle, and Aster will need to bind what remains of me into Isa. Once complete, Isa will have access to my energy to use in the Binding of the entities to the lake.”

Isa inclined her head, her face unreadable.

Yukari’s shape flickered again, strands of mist peeling from her shoulders before snapping back. “This is how you will save everyone, so don’t weep for my corrupted soul.”

We closed the circle around Yukari where she knelt, the mist at her edges unraveling and curling back into place like threads unwilling to let go.

Isa raised her hands, her voice even. “Find your element within her. Draw all of it free.”

I reached for Wood, bracing against the hollow fear gnawing inside me. Many thought of the elements as stone and branch, as flame or stream, but those were only their surfaces. The truth lived deeper. Wood was not just bark or leaf but the web between all things, the breath that tied one life to the next.

Veyn had taught me this. Before he’d left me.

That web flickered within Yukari. Every soul she had touched, every life she had broken or ended, clung to her in unseen threads. I grasped them, tugging them loose strand by strand. The threads carried echoes of choice, of cruelty and command, but also a quiet strain of wisdom buried beneath. The centuries had carved her like the rings of an ancient tree, each circle a record of power gained, squandered, or endured.

Her wisdom bled into me as I pulled, and with it the strength that had carried her across ages. Not softness, not mercy, but the resilience of roots driven deep into unyielding ground. That became my anchor, the gift I offered the spell.

Veyn’s magic pressed near, his vines threading alongside mine. Copper and green wove together as our elements tangled, pulling harder, stronger. I clenched my jaw, my body taut with the strain, yet I did not let go.

Rielle’s magic wavered, Neir’s steady hand guiding her back into rhythm. Ardorion wrestled for fire where only ice seemed to live, his jaw set in grim defiance. Garnexis planted herself like stone, her focus unbroken, her gaze fixed on Halven’s hand against the wall.

Light gathered around Yukari, layer upon layer. Her body began to unweave, not violently but like a tapestry undone thread by thread. Water, shadow, and moonlight dissolved into the circle. Her face eased into calm, eyes closing as though at last she welcomed the end.

The plant we had unmade in training had carried only stillness. This carried mind. Memory and will whispered through each strand, heavy with every life she had taken. Still we pulled. Her edges thinned, the familiar blur of her misted form collapsing inward. This time she did not return. She dissolved into brilliance, every last thread unraveling until only a radiant mass of misty energy seethed at the circle’s center.

My chest strained against the power rushing through me. It would have been enough to tear us apart. Yet it would save Halven. It would save everything.

The storm of energy bucked and writhed, wild as a living thing torn loose from its form. Strands lashed outward, searing the chamber with brilliance. If it scattered, all we had done would vanish.

Isa stepped forward, steady though her body trembled under the pressure of power straining to break free. “Now. Bind it to me, to my center in my womb.”

Neir’s hand lifted, and Rielle and Aster raised theirs beside him. Silver, blue, and lavender currents spun into Isa’s body, creating an anchor for Yukari’s energy. Their power flowed like roots entwining, strong and sure. My own Wood magic ached to reach for them, but this was not mine to carry.

Rielle whispered the shared intention with the others, her voice trembling but brave. “We bind what remains of Yukari into Isa, so her power may guard Wintermere.”

Neir steadied her words with his, strong as stone. The spell pressed Yukari’s essence into Isa’s womb, a force that hit like a storm breaking through trees. Isa staggered, her cry carrying through the chamber as her knees nearly buckled, but she held. Light gathered low in her body, glowing with the rhythm of a second pulse. My chest tightened. A seed of life, dangerous but alive, had taken root inside her.

Isa straightened, breath ragged, the brilliance of the storm stilled, sealed within. The light also faded as if Yukari no longer existed.

A thought flickered. Could such power ever be used in full? Did it have limits, a measure that might one day be drained? If not, what would Isa become with Yukari’s energy bound inside her? Questions that could not be spoken. Not now.

Isa crossed to the ice block where Halven remained suspended. Veyn and Neir followed, their figures framed in the glow.

We spread along the frozen wall. Rielle pressed close at my side. I laid my palm flat against the ice, and she placed hers over mine. Her hand trembled, though her touch did not falter.

“Begin Ardorion and Aster.” Isa’s command rang across the chamber.

Their Fusion spell tore through Wintermere. Fire and water collided, cracks spidering across the frozen surface. The same breaking that had doomed us before.

Then Isa blazed. Yukari’s energy poured through her body and into the chamber, drowning every shadow. The wind howled around us, tearing at hair and clothes, until her voice rang out through the brilliance. “Begin the Binding spell.”

Ardorion and Aster must have succeeded.

I pushed Wood into the ice, threads of resilience and root entwining with Rielle’s Moon magic. Her silver light wove through mine, binding stronger together than either alone as we whispered our intentions. Our strands hurled into the greater spell that Veyn anchored.

The chamber roared with the voices of the entities, howls clawing through the ice, testing us, tearing against every tether. Their rage rattled the barrier beneath my hand. Rielle’s grip on me tightened, and I braced harder, pouring every shred of strength I carried into the spell.

Isa’s glow surged through the frozen wall. Yukari’s energy coursed like a beacon in the dark, and the entities faltered. Their cries weakened. The fractures across the ice sealed with luminous frost until silence swallowed the chamber.

Neir stepped forward, hand pressed against the wall. With eyes closed, he slid his magic into the icy depths of Wintermere. I could not read the spell, but the entities stilled completely. The monsters slept again.

The Seal remained bright, but our magic fell away. Isa and Veyn turned their focus to Halven. Light unraveled the prison around him, streams of water coursing over stone. Halven crumpled out of the melting ice, body slack, breath still alive within him.

Veyn steadied Halven first, lifting him up from the stone where he had fallen. Their clasp of hands and weary smiles carried the echo of our old circle, when the three of us stood side by side and nothing seemed able to divide us.

Relief swept me clean, harsh as a hurricane through a forest. Against everything, we had saved him.

Lo rushed forward next, pressing herself against Halven with a fierce kiss, clinging to him as though she might never let go again. Elio stumbled after her, laughter spilling through his breath as he clasped Halven’s shoulder.

Ardorion pushed through to claim his own place at Halven’s side. His arm swept around Halven’s back, his clap loud enough to echo. “Missed you, bro. Don’t do that again unless you want me to replace you as captain of our bro squad.”

Halven’s lips curved faintly, his voice rough, a whisper carried only because the chamber was so still. “Thanks.”

Everything froze for a heartbeat. His first word since he disappeared from our lives. Then his gaze lifted, warm as his eyes met ours one by one. My own throat closed as I moved closer, reaching for his hand. Lo anchored his waist on one side, but he squeezed my fingers with his free hand, grounding me in a way no embrace could have. I held on, selfish for that small claim, my heart remembering all the years before, when he and I leaned on each other to survive the absence Veyn had left when he’d walked away from our friendship.

Across the chamber, Garnexis lingered at the edge. Halven’s gaze caught hers, and their nod carried something unspoken, a shared endurance I would never fully understand. I narrowed my eyes, though, when Halven turned to say something to Elio. Garnexis appeared to be anxious, like a cat ready to bolt at the next loud noise. But then Rielle caught my attention. She also stood back, tears slipping down her cheeks. Neir stood close behind her, something heavy in his look.

Halven’s hoarse laugh drew everyone’s gaze.

Elio laughed with him, saying, “You’d better start studying tonight if you want to pass finals.”

The sound broke us. Laughter tangled with tears until it filled the chamber, a storm of joy and grief all at once. Then silence returned, softer, but not empty. Isa’s glow had faded, yet Yukari’s sacrifice pulsed inside her still, a reminder of what was lost.

My gaze shifted to Veyn. His eyes met mine, steady but weighed by choices I could not forgive. He would always leave if it meant protecting me, but maybe he was no longer what I needed to feel whole. Maybe he never had been.

Isa’s voice carried through the chamber, calm though exhaustion bent her shoulders. “The lake remembers what you’ve done for Nythral. And it always will. You should feel proud of what you’ve accomplished here, Docilis. I know I do.”

I gripped Halven’s hand tighter, happy that at least I had him.

“Hear that, bro?” Ardorion said. “We’re legends now.”