Kalien paced at the edge of the glade, hands clenched behind his back. The shimmer of the Veil pulsed in a steady rhythm, but it told him nothing of what Aelria faced inside. He hated it—that helpless feeling, that distance he couldn't bridge even with all his power.
He'd watched her grow stronger with each shard reclaimed, more radiant and more untouchable. But this time… this time something felt different.
"She's been inside too long," Riven murmured from behind, leaning against a moss-covered tree, arms crossed. "You going to storm the Veil next?"
Kalien didn't answer. His jaw tightened.
"You forget," Riven added, "she's not just our beacon. She's our blade. And she never comes back weaker."
Kalien finally stilled. "You speak like someone who's already let her go."
"No," Riven said with a quiet smile. "I speak like someone who knows she always comes back."
Before Kalien could respond, the Veil shimmered violently. A sharp pulse cracked through the glade, sending ripples of starlight into the trees. Kalien stepped forward just in time to catch Aelria as she stumbled out, eyes wide and breath uneven.
Her hands clutched her chest, right above her heart, where the newest shard had settled.
"Are you alright?" Kalien asked, kneeling beside her.
She nodded shakily. "I saw… Stargrave. The way it was. I saw the Mirror King—before the fall. He—he gave me a mirror. Told me I was the beginning and the undoing."
Kalien's brows furrowed. "What does that mean?"
"It means we're running out of time," she whispered. "The veil isn't just breaking—it's remembering. And it wants to return to what it once was. That means bringing him back."
Kalien's hand found hers, his grip firm and grounding. "Then we stop it. Together."
Aelria's eyes searched his face, something unreadable flickering behind her gaze. "Do you ever wonder who I really am beneath all this? Before the shards, before the prophecy, before the starlight?"
Kalien didn't hesitate. "You're Aelria. The one who keeps standing. The one who keeps fighting. That's who you are to me."
She looked down, her fingers tightening slightly in his. "Even if I was the one who sealed him? Even if I loved him—once?"
His breath caught. Not with jealousy, but with the weight of the truth. "Then that means you've already made the hardest choice once. You can do it again."
Their eyes met.
And for a brief, suspended second, something unspoken passed between them—soft, bittersweet, almost tender.
Then the wind shifted. Riven stood straighter. Nyros emerged from the woods, his face grim.
"There's movement near the Hollowed Wastes," Nyros said. "Scout crows spotted cloaked figures gathering. Too many to be raiders. And they carry Veilbound relics."
Aelria stood slowly, her expression hardening with purpose.
"Then we're no longer waiting. The Mirror King has made his move."
Kalien's hand brushed her shoulder. "What now?"
Aelria turned to the east, where the sky bled violet with coming dusk. "Now we find the last shard. And pray it's enough to stop what's coming."