The journey to Nyxvale stretched across three haunting days.
They walked through lands that defied the laws of reality----forests lit with golden light long after dusk, rivers that whispered secrets Elara could almost understand, and skies that wept silver rain that stung her skin like memories. The Veiled Lands lived up to their name; it wasn't just the trees that loomed over them----but time, reason, and the growing weight in Elara's chest.
Kael was relentless. Focused. Controlled.
Each night, he carved wards into the earth with a sliver of bone-chalk, whispering words that curled in the air like smoke. Words in a tongue older than kingdoms. Words Elara didn't know---but felt. Every syllable sent a twinge through her sigil, a ghost of familiarity stirring deep within her. The ancient magic in her blood responded like a half-forgotten lullaby.
By the time the black cliffs of Nyxvale broke through the mist, Elara felt different.
Not just stronger. Sharper. As if something inside her had shed its skin and was waiting to be named.
The fortress clung to the mountains like a forgotten god----weathered, stubborn, and half-swallowed by the elements. Ivy coiled around collapsed towers. One wall had vanished into the sea, leaving behind a wind-whipped chasm. But the gate still stood---formed from obsidian veins shot through with molten gold. Defiant. Waiting.
Kael slowed his pace as they approached. "Don't speak unless I say so."
Elara gave him a sidelong glance. "That bad?"
He hesitated. Just for a second. "Let's just say… not everyone in Nyxvale remembers your mother with love."
Her fingers brushed the edge of her tunic, tracing the sigil beneath it. "Then let's give them a reason to."
As they passed under the shadow of the gate, the air changed.
A shiver ran across Elara's skin---like stepping into someone else's memory. A ripple of ancient power surged through the threshold. Kael stepped forward, hand raised.
"I invoke blood-right," he said, voice steady. "Velis Kael. Moonbind line. I bring Elara, daughter of Aeryn the Bright."
The gate breathed--(a sound low and deep, like stone exhaling.)
Then, it opened.
Inside, Nyxvale was a graveyard with breath.
Greenish-blue ghost-lanterns floated above broken stairways. Statues of long-dead mages lined the halls, worn by time but proud in posture. The air held the scent of old spellfire and damp moss. Whispers followed them---soft, half-heard, not quite voices.
At the far end of the courtyard, flanked by twelve silent figures, stood a woman who pulled the eye like gravity.
Her skin was dark as obsidian, smooth and radiant. Her robes shimmered like they were stitched from spilled ink and starlight. Her golden eyes flicked to Elara---and held.
"Elara," she said, her voice like a bell rung too long. "Daughter of the Bright Flame. You wear the sigil."
Elara straightened, masking her nerves. "I do. And I want the truth."
The woman watched her in eerie silence, then offered a smile.(sharp and elegant as a dagger)
"Then you've come to the right place."
Kael leaned close as they followed her into the tower. His voice was low, barely a whisper. "That's Selene Virelith. Your mother's spymaster. Last Seer of the Third Veil."
Elara didn't blink. "Can we trust her?"
"Only if she's already decided we're useful."
The chamber they entered was circular, open to the sky. Stars glittered above, reflected perfectly in a black pool at the center. The floor was etched with constellations. The walls pulsed faintly with sigil-light. It felt… sacred.
Selene stopped beside the pool. "You want answers? Then look. The pool reveals what memory fears."
Elara stepped forward slowly.
The moment her reflection met her gaze, the water rippled--and the vision consumed her.
A battlefield stretched across the horizon under a dying red sky. Her mother(Aeryn) stood defiant at the head of a ragged army of sigil-bearers, their marks glowing like stars. Kael was there too, barely older than Elara now, trembling with awe.
And then it came. The Night Herald. Towering. Twisted. Its presence warped the light around it.
Elara's breath caught as she saw her mother scream---not in fear, but fury. The kind of rage that was holy. Aeryn unleashed a torrent of radiant flame, and even the Night Herald recoiled. For a moment, Elara felt hope bloom.
But then---betrayal.
A figure stepped from the ranks behind her mother. Cloaked. Hooded. And silent.
Steel flashed.
The blade pierced Aeryn's back.
The vision shattered.
Elara stumbled back, heart racing, throat tight. "She was---she was betrayed…"
Selene nodded slowly, grave. "By one of her own. A name erased. But the wound echoes still."
"Who?" Elara whispered. "Tell me."
"I have suspicions," Selene said, her eyes unreadable. "But truth must be earned. Not guessed."
Elara turned to Kael, something dark building behind her ribs. "They didn't just kill her. They erased her legacy. And now they want me."
Kael looked back, something flickering in his eyes. "Then make them regret wanting you."
Selene stepped forward, voice heavier. "The Night Herald your mother wounded still lives. It sleeps beneath the Sundered Spire… but not for long. Its dreams are ending."
Elara's fingers clenched. "Then how do we stop it?"
Selene nodded toward the stars. "With the Heartshard. A relic from before the first kingdoms. It can bind the Herald---but it's lost. Buried deep within the ruins of Elarion."
Elara felt the name echo in her bones. Elarion. The city of her ancestors.
"But," Selene added, "Elarion lies in the Hollow Wastes. Cursed. Twisted. Few return."
Elara didn't hesitate. "Then we'll be the ones who do."
Kael gave a grim nod----but then his voice dropped. "The Covenant knows you're awake. They've issued a full hunt. Every hunter, every bloodhound, every cursed blade---they're coming for you."
Elara didn't flinch.
She walked to the window. Far below, the sea crashed against stone. Her reflection shimmered in the glass---sigil glowing beneath her sleeve like a second heart.
She didn't feel like a girl anymore.
She felt like a storm given shape.
"Let them come," she said, her voice soft and dangerous.