The shadow gathered its newfound power, its form solidifying slightly as it reached out to Arthur. It needed him to believe—to understand that there was still hope.


    “Arthur,” the shadow whispered, its voice echoing in his mind.


    Arthur’s head snapped up, his eyes scanning the room. “Who’s there?” he demanded, his hand instinctively reaching for Dawn.


    The shadow shifted, its form twisting and writhing like smoke. It stretched across the walls, manipulating the darkness to form words in the dim light:


    “Blood has magic.”


    Arthur froze, his breath catching in his throat. He stared at the words, his mind racing. A shadowbinder? he thought, his grip tightening on Dawn. From Essos? What trickery is this?


    “Show yourself!” Arthur barked, his voice sharp with suspicion. “If you’ve come to harm her, I’ll cut you down where you stand.”


    The shadow’s form flickered, its voice calm but firm. “I mean no harm. I am bound to her… and to the children she carries.”


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    Arthur’s jaw tightened, his skepticism warring with his desperation. “Healers… maesters… they’ve all tried. They say there’s no hope. How can you help when they could not?”


    The shadow’s form flickered, its voice steady. “They do not understand the power of blood… of sacrifice. Your life… your blood… can give them a chance.”


    Arthur’s grip tightened on Dawn, his knuckles white. He looked at Lyanna, her face pale and drawn, her eyes filled with desperation. Then he looked back at the shadow, his resolve hardening.


    “If my life can save them,” he said, his voice steady, “then take it.”


    Arthur stood, his movements deliberate as he unsheathed Dawn. The blade gleamed in the dim light, its edge sharp and unyielding. He turned to Lyanna, his eyes filled with sorrow and resolve.


    “Tell Ned… I kept my promise,” he said, his voice firm despite the tremor in his hands.


    Lyanna’s eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. “Arthur… no…”


    But Arthur did not hesitate. He raised Dawn to his throat, the blade catching the faint light of the bleeding star outside. With a single, swift motion, he drew the edge across his neck.


    As the blood spilled onto the floor, a crimson pool that seemed to glow in the dim light, Arthur’s lips moved, his voice barely audible.


    “Lightbringer…”


    The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, as Arthur’s life force poured into the world. Above the tower, the bleeding star shone brighter, its light piercing the darkness.