SPIRITBINDER: The Boy Without A Mark
Chapter 84: Legacy

Chapter 84: Legacy

The silence that followed Meira’s death was suffocating. The weight of the room seemed to press down on everyone, as if the loss of the angel had stolen the very breath from their lungs. Morvane stood at the center of it all, his body trembling with a grief so deep it seemed to swallow him whole. His hands, still stained with the blood of his friend, shook violently as he stared at Meira’s lifeless form. The cold finality of her sacrifice hit him like a physical blow.

He could barely bring himself to look at anyone. Drevon’s presence in the room felt like a suffocating shadow, one that made Morvane’s skin crawl. His thoughts were a storm of anger, guilt, and sorrow, and he could not bear to face the demon who had manipulated everything that had led to this moment.

Medas, however, was the first to break the silence, his voice low but steady. He stepped forward, looking Morvane squarely in the eye. "I’m against this, Morvane. I don’t believe in what Drevon proposed, but now that it’s happened... we have no choice."

Morvane’s eyes, full of unshed tears and regret, flickered briefly to Medas, but he didn’t respond.

Medas continued, the weight of his words settling heavily in the room. "You inherited her power. Whether you want it or not, it’s yours now. Use it for the greater good. Use it to protect her legacy."

Luna stood in the corner, her face pale, her expression vacant. She is crying, and the grief that clung to her was palpable. She had grown so close to Meira, and now the loss felt like a jagged wound that could never heal.

Her voice, when it finally came, was choked with emotion. "She didn’t deserve this... She was an angel... Why did it have to be like this?"

Her words were soft, but they carried the heavy sorrow of a heart that had been shattered.

Morvane’s gaze flickered briefly to Luna, but he couldn’t bring himself to offer comfort. The guilt of Meira’s death, the weight of her final request, crushed him, and he could not even think of the words to ease her pain.

They spent the next few days in a haze of sorrow and preparation. Meira’s funeral was arranged, and every step felt like a betrayal. But they knew they had to honor her, even if it meant facing their own pain head-on.

The ceremony took place in a quiet, peaceful clearing just outside the palace. The sun was setting, casting an orange glow over the landscape, as if the heavens themselves were mourning her loss. Morvane stood at the front, his expression unreadable as the others gathered around.

Luna, Medas, and even Drevon—who had strangely insisted on attending despite the tensions—stood in silent tribute. The air felt thick with sorrow as Meira’s body was placed gently in the center of the clearing, her wings folded around her as though she were still wrapped in the embrace of the heavens.

Morvane couldn’t bring himself to speak as they began the ceremony. He had nothing left to say. No words could capture the depths of his loss, the weight of the power he now bore, the responsibility that had been thrust upon him.

Instead, he stood in silence, his eyes focused on Meira’s peaceful face, her eyes closed as if she had finally found the peace she deserved. He clenched his fists at his sides, vowing silently to honor her sacrifice, to use her power in the way she had wished.

He would carry the light she had passed on, but not for power. Not for glory. But to protect. To ensure that her death—her sacrifice—meant something greater than just the destruction that Drevon had promised.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the funeral came to a close. Morvane turned away from the site, his heart heavy but resolved. There was no turning back now. The power was his, and with it, the responsibility.

He would not let her die in vain.

"Let’s go," Medas said quietly, his voice a soft anchor in the storm of emotions that raged around them. "We’ll honor her in our actions from here on out."

Luna, still broken, nodded faintly, her eyes red from crying. "We have to carry on for her," she said softly, her voice barely a whisper.

As they made their way back to the palace, Morvane walked at the front, his footsteps heavy with the weight of what had transpired. The path ahead was uncertain, but one thing was clear—he would not allow Meira’s death to be forgotten.

He would carry her light.

The days following Meira’s funeral felt like an endless void for Morvane. Every step he took was weighed down by the guilt of her death, the knowledge that her life had been claimed for the power he now bore. Yet even in his sorrow, there was an unshakable resolve growing within him. He couldn’t deny it anymore: Meira’s trust, her sacrifice, had given him a responsibility he couldn’t ignore.

But that didn’t mean he was ready to face Drevon.

As Morvane walked through the village, Drevon’s shadow seemed to follow him. The demon had been persistent, always lurking, always trying to provoke him. He could feel Drevon’s presence closing in, the demon’s voice slithering through his thoughts, making him want to scream in frustration.

"You can’t ignore me forever, Morvane," Drevon called out, his tone dripping with amusement. "You’ve inherited the power of an angel. You can feel it, can’t you? The light magic coursing through your veins? You should be grateful."

Morvane clenched his fists, refusing to turn around. He had nothing to say to Drevon. Nothing he wanted to hear from the demon who had manipulated everything that led to Meira’s death.

Drevon, undeterred, stepped closer. "Try out your new power," he urged, his voice like a whisper in Morvane’s ear. "See what you can do with it. Meira would’ve wanted you to use it."

But still, Morvane remained silent. He didn’t need Drevon’s guidance. He didn’t need the demon to tell him what to do. All he wanted was to grieve, to figure out how to live with the weight of the power that had been thrust upon him.

"You can’t ignore me, Morvane," Drevon pressed, his voice sharpening. "I did what was necessary. I gave you what you needed to achieve your goals. You should thank me."

Morvane finally stopped in his tracks, his voice low and filled with contempt. "Thank you? For making me a murderer? Again?"

Drevon chuckled darkly. "It’s not murder if you got her approval. She gave her life willingly. She wanted this. Perhaps, she was even the one who charged at your dagger. Don’t be so naïve, Morvane."

The words stung, but Morvane bit his tongue. He wanted to lash out, to scream at Drevon for twisting Meira’s sacrifice into something grotesque. But in the end, he knew it was pointless. The demon would always twist the truth, always try to justify his actions.

Instead, Morvane turned, his eyes burning with a quiet fury. "I didn’t ask for this power. I didn’t ask for any of this."

Drevon leaned in closer, his smile wide and predatory. "But now you have it. You’ve been chosen. Meira’s spirit is within you, her power flowing through you. You can feel it, can’t you? The light magic. The angel’s strength."

Morvane closed his eyes, focusing on the sensation that had been growing within him ever since Meira’s death. The power was there, undeniable, a force that surged through him like a wildfire. His body ached with the strength it gave him, but it wasn’t the kind of power he had dreamed of as a child. It was something else—something far more sacred.

"I don’t want this," Morvane muttered, his voice filled with self-loathing. "I didn’t ask for her power. I just wanted her to live."

Drevon smirked, as if enjoying the turmoil. "You can’t change what’s been done, Morvane. This is the path you’re on now. You’ll either embrace it or let it consume you. But if you want to honor her sacrifice, you’ll use that power to its fullest."

Morvane’s fists clenched at his sides as he fought the overwhelming urge to give in to his anger. He felt a flash of heat within him, a blinding light that flared behind his eyelids. The angel’s wings... they were there.

With a sudden, forceful push, Morvane’s body surged with energy, and before he even realized it, a pair of wings—gleaming with light—burst from his back. The sheer radiance of them nearly blinded him, but he didn’t flinch.

The power was incredible. It felt like nothing he had ever experienced before. It was as if the very essence of the heavens had taken root within him, the strength of an angel now bound to his soul.

Morvane opened his eyes, and the world seemed to glow with a new intensity. He could feel the magic within him, coursing through his veins, expanding and contracting with every breath. It was so much more than he had ever imagined.

Drevon’s eyes gleamed with dark satisfaction as he watched Morvane’s transformation. "See? Now you’re getting it," he said with a smile. "This is the power you need. The light magic, the angel’s strength... You’ve grown tenfold. Don’t deny it. This is your destiny."

Morvane’s heart pounded in his chest. The power was undeniable, but so was the weight of it. He had Meira’s power, and with it, her responsibility. She had trusted him. She had believed in him.

"I won’t let you decide for my life, Drevon," Morvane said through gritted teeth, his voice filled with a newfound determination. "I will use this power for her. Not for you."

Drevon raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "We’ll see, won’t we?" he said with a chuckle. "But don’t get too carried away, Morvane. The path you walk now is not an easy one."

Morvane spread his wings, the light around him flaring brighter, casting a radiant glow over the landscape. He could feel the magic vibrating through him, a power that was both awe-inspiring and terrifying.

But he would control it. He would use it for the greater good. For Meira.

He would not let her death be in vain.