Iselda met her gaze. “The ritual isn’t complete,” she began. “The Sanguine Tree requires four Bionfi Ascendants’ power to manifest the construct fully. We have only three within it.”
A cold silence settled. Kaiser felt Melpomene’s shock ripple through Iselda’s senses.
“What are you saying?” Melpomene demanded, her voice rising. “You said this would be enough!”
Iselda remained calm with an unreadable expression. “I didn’t tell you everything,” she admitted. “I couldn’t risk emotions getting in the way.”
Melpomene gritted her teeth. “You lied to us!” she shouted. “To Raelyn! To me! After everything, you still keep secrets?!”
“That’s right,” Iselda replied evenly. “Without the fourth Ascendant, the Blood Phoenix cannot fully form. I have to be the final sacrifice.”
“No!” Melpomene’s voice broke. “This is madness, Iselda. Raelyn’s death was already too much. If you do this… if you leave me alone…” She trailed off, tears flooding.
Iselda stepped closer, reaching out to wipe her tears. “I know it’s hard,” she said gently. “But you heard Rae’s words.”
Melpomene jerked away. “You think sacrificing yourself will solve everything? That more death is the answer?!”
“Maybe,” Iselda said calmly. “ We are also preventing a future where Triotechnology advances unchecked. Where weapons and Ascendants become powerful enough to destroy entire worlds.” She paused. “Without the Blood Phoenix and what comes after, our people will destroy themselves.”
Kaiser felt the depth of her conviction—the unshakable belief that this was the only path forward.
Melpomene shook her head. “There has to be another way. We’ll find it together. Please, don’t do this.”
Iselda offered a sad smile. “You’re strong, Mel. Stronger than you know. You’ll carry on and make sure our efforts weren’t in vain.”
“Iselda…” she whispered.
“Take this,” Iselda said, pressing a small, intricate device into Melpomene’s hand. “With it, you can create your own construct—one that will balance the Blood Phoenix. A counterpart. You have all the research papers you need in my bag.”
Melpomene stared at the device, recognition dawning. “Use it on… the Dead Kings’ Crown?”
Iselda nodded. “Create the balance to the Blood Phoenix. Together, they’ll maintain the equilibrium our world desperately needs.”
Iselda was placing immense responsibility on Melpomene, entrusting her with the continuation of their plan.
“This is too much,” Melpomene protested. “I can’t do this alone.”
“You won’t be,” Iselda assured her. “You’ll have our memories, our guidance. And when the time comes, our descendants will rise to fulfill the new destiny we’ve set in motion.”
They held each other for a long moment. Kaiser felt the depth of Iselda’s love for Melpomene—a bond that transcended words.
Finally, with a lingering kiss, Iselda pulled back, her expression resolute. “It’s time.”
Melpomene opened her mouth to argue, but no words came. Defeated, she nodded slowly. “I’ll take the dahlia to Faelyn. I’ll make sure your daughter knows who you were,” she said softly.
“Thank you,” Iselda replied, her voice thick with emotion.
Iselda took a steadying breath, her gaze meeting Melpomene’s tear-filled eyes. “There’s one more thing.”
Melpomene sniffed, trying to compose herself. “What now?”
“We need the world to believe you stopped me,” Iselda said plainly.
Melpomene blinked in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“No one knows you helped us,” Iselda continued. “They all just think I want the Sanguine Tree’s power for myself. That you’re against me; we can use that.”
Kaiser felt a surge of understanding through Iselda’s mind—and his own.
“You want me to lie?” Melpomene asked in disbelief. “To pretend I was never part of this?”
“Yes,” Iselda confirmed. “You need to claim that you stopped me from completing the ritual. That you fought me here, at the Sanguine Tree.”
Melpomene shook her head. “I can’t do that. It’s—”
“You can,” Iselda interrupted gently. “And you must.”
“But why?” Melpomene demanded.
“They’ll cast me as the shadow so you can stand in the light,” Iselda explained. “Someone they can rally behind, and someone they can hate.”
Melpomene hesitated, the enormity of the plan dawning on her. “You want me to… to kill you?”
Iselda nodded slowly.
Tears welled anew in Melpomene’s eyes. “I can’t hurt you.”
She reached out, cupping Melpomene’s face with a gentle hand. “You’re not hurting me. You’re helping me finish what we started.”
Melpomene closed her eyes, leaning into the touch.
Iselda smiled. “The path we’ve chosen is fraught with thorns, but it’s the only way through the bramble.”
“But…” Melpomene trailed off.
“They need a villain, Mel,” Iselda explained, her voice remarkably steady. “And they need a savior. They will use your family name—Caspecorgia. The hero who struck down the evil Dirvah. With that political absolute, you will have the authority to build the counterpart to my Phoenix. You will force the equilibrium.”
Melpomene looked down at the intricate Triotech device Iselda had pressed into her hands. The blueprints for a god.
“A shadow to balance your fire,” Melpomene murmured, the words tasting like ash on her tongue. “I will call it the Raven of Death.”
Iselda offered a faint, tragic smile. “A bit bleak for my tastes. But as long as it balances the scales, it can wear whatever shape you choose.”
Iselda reached down, taking Melpomene’s trembling hands and gently, deliberately wrapping them around the long handle of the Necronfi scythe.
With a trembling breath, Melpomene steadied herself. “I love you,” she whispered.
“And I love you,” Iselda responded softly.
With a suffocating sob, Melpomene thrust the scythe forward.
The Necronfi blade plunged deep into Iselda’s chest. A blinding, searing agony radiated through her flesh—and directly into Kaiser's soul. Iselda staggered, blood spilling past her lips, but she remained on her feet, her golden eyes never leaving Melpomene’s.
“Go,” Iselda choked out, her voice wet and strained. “Drop the barrier. Let the armada in to see what you've done.”
Melpomene yanked the scythe free. “I will make this right,” she vowed, the tears freezing on her cheeks. Without looking back, she turned and sprinted into the shadows, running to play her part in the grandest deception in Terrarium's history.
Iselda’s knees finally buckled. She collapsed at the base of the Sanguine Tree, the glowing roots already beginning to coil hungrily around her bleeding form.
Time to get off the ride, phantom, Iselda’s thought echoed weakly in his mind.
With a violent surge of her fading Bionfi, Iselda forcefully severed the mental tether. Kaiser gasped as he was violently ejected from her consciousness. He stumbled forward, his ethereal form materializing in the memory as a projection of his own body.
He fell to his knees beside her. “Iselda…”
She looked up at him, her vision already clouding, but a serene, almost triumphant smile graced her bloodstained lips. “So it’s you,” she whispered. “Our living legacy,” she continued, her voice fading.
He swallowed hard. “I’ll do everything I can. I promise.”
She reached out, her hand brushing against his. “I’ll hold the Blood Phoenix dormant for four more generations. By then, most will have forgotten. It’ll be safer that way.”
“Thank you,” Kaiser said softly, emotion thick in his throat.
“Stay vigilant,” Iselda whispered. “but remember—allies can come from unlikely places.”
Her eyes began to lose focus, the light dimming. “And… if she yet lives, tell my daughter… tell her I’m sorry I couldn’t be there.”
“I will,” he promised. His lips quivered, and tears wouldn’t stop cascading from his eyes.
A chuckle tore from her throat as blood spilled down the corner of her lips. “Tears don’t suit you, Kaiser. You were made for something greater.”
As her life force continued to flow into the Blood Phoenix, the ethereal bird above blazed brighter, its form becoming more defined.
“Goodbye, Iselda,” Kaiser said.
“No,” she replied, her voice echoing faintly. “Along with every other Ascendant before me, we are all in your heart. In your soul.”
With that, her eyes closed, and she became still. The glow of the Sanguine Tree enveloped her, and then, slowly, she dissolved into shimmering light while merging with the essence of the Blood Phoenix.
Kaiser froze. The majestic bird soared upward, its wings casting a radiant light across the darkened sky before fading into the ether.
The memory began to fracture around him, pieces falling away like shards of glass. He felt a pull, drawing him back to the present as one final tear hit the bloodied ground.
