# Chapter 1: The Obsidian Bridge

The wind at the center of the Obsidian Bridge tasted of ash and ozone. Mira clutched her right hand, her blood slick against the dark stone, weaving into the ritual geomancy that now hummed beneath her feet. Across the span, Dorian Solas stood like a statue of ice, his own palm dripping onto the same line of power. The violet fire of her magic—usually a roaring, independent hearth—flickered and bowed toward him, drawn by a gravity she could no longer resist as the ritual geomancy forced the flames to kneel before his frost.

"It is done," the Emperor’s voice echoed from the high balcony, the scent of burnt sugar clinging to the words like a physical rot.

Mira felt it then—a sudden, violent intrusion of cold into her marrow. It wasn't just the temperature; it was Dorian’s terror, muffled and rigid, bleeding through a tether that shouldn't exist. Her knees buckled. 

"Stop," she gasped, the word catching on the sudden, metallic weight in her chest. "Burning memory, Dorian, make it stop. It feels like—my skin is peeling back. Obviously, this is exactly what we planned."

Dorian didn't move, though his hand trembled against the obsidian. Through the bridge of their shared senses, Mira felt the absolute zero of his mental disciplines shattering, replaced by a frantic, analytical whirring. He wasn't just afraid; he was calculating. Through the tether, she felt his realization hit like a physical blow: this wasn't a spell. The architecture of the magic was too precise, too cold—ancient technology, heavy and echoing the Progenitors.

"The circumstances," Dorian said, his voice straining for its usual crystalline precision despite the tremor in his knees, "are not auspicious. The evidence suggests the Emperor has... altered the parameters of the Accord."

"Altered?" Mira let out a jagged laugh, clutching her chest where his heartbeat was now thumping against her own ribs. "He’s lobotomized us. We’re—actually. No. We’re one circuit. Past and rot, Dorian, look at his hands."

Mira stared at the Emperor, seeing the shimmering corruption of his aura. Through the bond, she felt Dorian’s gaze follow hers, his shock merging with her revulsion. 

"It would appear," Dorian whispered, his formality a brittle shield, "that our cooperation is no longer a matter of administrative preference, but a biological imperative." 

Mira couldn't breathe. The gravity of the tether pulled at her soul, anchoring her to the man she had spent a decade trying to outshine. The merger was signed in blood, and as the light on the bridge reached a blinding, violet-white crescendo, the world beyond the span disappeared.

***

In the distance, the lights of the Crystalline Spire and Pyre Academy remained separate for now, but on the bridge, the two Chancellors remained locked in the silent, agonizing birth of the Starfall Union. Mira reached out instinctively, her fingers brushing the cold stone where Dorian's shadow fell, needing to touch something solid to prove she still existed. She didn't find the stone; she found the terrifying, frozen heat of his presence, now as permanent as her own pulse.