The Sun Gate flared like a living flame as Jack, Nyssa, and Kael stepped through it. For a moment, Jack couldn't breathe—warm light seared his vision, the kind of light that felt more ancient than the stars. Then the world reformed around them.
They stood in a vast valley of glowing stone, golden trees stretching into the heavens. At the center of it all rose the Sanctum of Origins—an enormous crystalline structure pulsing with sacred energy, shaped like a lotus in bloom. Its very presence commanded reverence. Here, time felt slow. Sacred.
Jack stumbled slightly as his boots touched the marble ground. "This… This place. It feels like it's breathing."
"It is," Nyssa whispered. "This is the first place the gods touched. The point where all realms intersected before they were divided."
Kael turned in a slow circle, awed. "We really are standing at the beginning."
Jack looked up at the shimmering sky—warm gold bathing everything in light. "Wait. This is the moon realm, right? Then… why is there sunlight? I thought Vaelmir doesn't see the sun rise for another hundred years."
Nyssa nodded slowly. "You're right. Vaelmir's sun only rises once every century. But the Sun Gate doesn't rely on the sun rising. It stores light—solar essence—gathered over decades. The Sanctum is built on a convergence point, a node where realms and energies merge. It draws power from the stored light, not the current sky. Only sacred places like this can access the Sun Gate before the natural sunrise."
"So it's not time-dependent," Jack murmured. "It's essence-dependent."
"Exactly," Nyssa replied. "And your presence here as Thalon's heir… may have activated the gate prematurely."
As they approached the Sanctum's entrance, the three artifacts began to glow in tandem—responding to the sacred pulse of the valley.
But they weren't alone.
A hiss echoed behind them.
Dozens of black tendrils erupted from the earth, forming into shadow-beasts with serpentine eyes. At their head stood a new horror: a wraith cloaked in golden armor, its face a warped mirror of Thalon's.
"The Echo," Nyssa breathed. "She created it from your father's memories."
Jack clenched his fists. "Then I'll destroy it."
The battle erupted.
Kael summoned a dome of shielding energy while Nyssa danced through the shadows, her blades a blur. Jack focused his magic, drawing from moonlight and water—light and motion.
But the Echo was strong.
Stronger than anything they had faced before.
It moved like Thalon—striking with a speed that made Jack's heart ache with familiarity.
Yet its aura was wrong. Corrupted.
"You are not my father!" Jack roared as he pushed his hands forward.
A blast of silver fire exploded from his palms—mixed energy, moonlight twisted with Thalon's lingering presence inside him.
The Echo screamed.
Nyssa leapt onto its back, driving both blades into the base of its skull.
Kael released a binding incantation—light chains locking the creature in place.
With one final burst of power, Jack thrust the Tear of Elumir forward, and the Echo shattered into a million sparks of darkness.
The valley went silent again.
The Sanctum doors opened.
Inside was a circular chamber with a dais at the center. Three ancient thrones surrounded it—empty, but pulsing with presence.
Jack approached and placed each artifact into its corresponding slot. The chamber darkened, then filled with a spectral light.
A voice—not his father's, not the gods', but something older—spoke in his mind.
"You come seeking to restore balance. Speak your truth."
Jack stepped forward.
"I am the son of Thalon and Isaldora. I walk between realms. I don't want power—I want peace. I want to stop Isolde. I want to restore the Light."
The chamber trembled.
"Then you must be tested one last time."
The floor beneath them opened.
Jack, Kael, and Nyssa fell into darkness—and awoke not in a pit, but in a mirror version of Vaelmir. Twisted. Inverted. A world of illusion and fear.
Jack was alone.
A voice whispered in his head. "You are not enough. You are just a boy."
He clenched his jaw. "Maybe. But I'm not alone."
Suddenly, Nyssa and Kael reappeared beside him—reunited by the strength of their bond.
The illusion cracked. Light pierced through.
They were back in the chamber.
The artifacts blazed. Energy surged into Jack's chest.
The Rite of Alignment was complete.
And Jack was no longer just a wielder of magic.
He was a vessel of divine power.
—
Far away, Isolde stood before her army.
She felt it.
A ripple.
A tear in the balance.
"He's done it," she growled. "He's unlocked the Sanctum."
Behind her, the sky cracked with stormlight.
The final confrontation was coming.
But she would not face it unprepared.
She would summon the Devourer of Realms itself.
And Vaelmir… would burn.