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The murmurs dissolved into silence as we all took in the sight—the first blooms of life this realm had seen in years.

"There has to be more out there," Vexa said, her eyes finding thehorizon where the rip lay hidden in the distance. "More arcanite, buried in the ruins." The heaviness returned to her voice. "We just have to find it."

"And then what?" Lael asked, his young face serious again.

"Then start preparing," I said, leaning into Aether. His arm tightened slightly around my waist. "For whatever Draxon decides to unleash on us."

"Lael," Effie stepped forward, though her eyes kept darting between Aether and me with poorly concealed delight, "that's enough time out here. You're looking pale again."

"But—"

"Don't argue with her, it only makes it worse," Rethlyn sighed.

Aether reached out and ran a hand through Lael's messy hair. "You can come back tomorrow, if you're up for it."

"Promise?" the boy asked, a soft glint in his eye.

"Promise," I said softly.

We watched as the others headed back toward Ravenfell, their voices carrying on the breeze. Only Vexa remained behind.

"I've been waiting for the right moment," she said, reaching into her leather pack. "Though knowing you two, there probably won't be one." Her violet eyes sparkled as she pulled out a black cloth bundle.

With careful movements, Vexa unwrapped the fabric, revealing two daggers that made my breath catch. The memory of another ceremonial presentation flashed through my mind—standing before the Sídhe Guard as they bestowed their emerald-hilted dagger, a symbol of everything they wanted me to be. Everything I wasn't. But these—they were the most beautiful things I'd ever laid eyes on.

Their obsidian hilts were wrapped in dark leather, worn spots already pressed into the grip as if they'd been waiting for my hands. Intricate sigils had been carved into the pommels. And the blades were made of solid gold, just like Aether's sword. Whatdrew my eye, though, were the small violet shards embedded just above the crossguards, glinting in the dim light.

"Vexa..." I breathed, recognizing the crystalline fragments. "Those are from?—"

"The arcanite? Yes." She held them out, keeping the black cloth between her skin and the weapons. "Each one's been marked with a bonding sigil. Once your flesh touches the hilts, they'll recognize you as their wielder." There was something in her voice I'd never heard before—a mixture of pride and nervousness, as if she wasn't sure how I'd receive this gift.

"What does that mean exactly?" I asked, unable to take my eyes off the blades. They seemed to pulse with their own life, so different from the cold, ceremonial weight of my Sídhe dagger.

"They'll always return to you in battle. You can throw them, lose them, have them knocked away—doesn't matter. They'll find their way back." Her smile widened. "They'll call to you too, like a whisper in the back of your mind. No one else will be able to use them against you. They're yours, completely and truly yours."

My throat tightened at her words. In Sídhe, everything had come with conditions, with expectations. But this...

"Vexa, this is too much?—"

"You've earned them," she cut me off, her tone brooking no argument. "Besides, I needed a challenge. Been too long since I've forged something worthy of a proper warrior."

Something I'd read in the archives suddenly clicked into place. "The arcanite stones..." I looked up at her. "A century ago, they used to forge weapons with them here. Warriors could somehow connect their tethers through the crystals."

"I wanted to test that theory." Vexa winked. "There's a reason I forged two daggers instead of a sword." Her eyes flickered to Aether. "He helped me find the old texts about crystalized weaponry. The techniques had been lost since the drought began."

I glanced at Aether, who stood watching us with quiet intensity,that familiar warmth in his golden eyes. Of course he'd been part of this. My chest tightened at the thought of them working together in secret, planning this gift.

"Well?" Vexa held the daggers out. "Let's see if it works."

With confident fingers, I took a blade in each hand. The moment my skin touched the hilts, I felt it—like two new heartbeats settling into rhythm with my own. The weapons seemed to sing against my palms, their weight perfect.

I called to my shadows, letting them curl around the blades. At the same time, I reached into the depths of my spine, pulling that familiar iridescent web.

The response was instant. Violent. Beautiful.

The right crystal exploded with light, flooding with pearlescent energy that matched my eyes. Pure starlight, captured in stone. The left crystal devoured all light around it, filling with writhing shadows that seemed to breathe.

Light and dark. Balance.