Magic, Mayhem, and My Misplaced Soulmate

Previously

…It wasn’t the chill of the night air; it was a deep, internal tremor that wracked her body. Lyra clutched the Atherian royal brooch that lay hidden beneath her tunic, and to Elara’s astonishment, the metal, which had been cool and inert moments before, now glowed with an intense, malevolent cold, radiating an aura of profound dread. "It’s him," Lyra gasped, her voice strained, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "Theron… he’s doing something. I can feel it. It’s… dark magic." The brooch pulsed once more, a frigid wave emanating from it, and Lyra cried out, her body arching in a silent agony, as if an unseen force were attempting to tear her apart from within.