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“What happened today was not your fault.” The words are so low I almost miss them beneath the loud, rapid beating of my heart.

Then, with that same iron control he always has, he lets me go.

I stand up, slow and reluctant, but before I step away, I touch his shoulder. The fabric is cool beneath my fingers, but I can feel his warmth underneath, the solid reality of him.

“Thank you. For not pretending you have all the answers.”

He doesn’t respond with words, but his hand rises to cover mine for a second. A touch so brief I might have imagined it if not for the lingering warmth on my skin. I feel his attention follow me as I make my way back to my sleeping spot, like a physical presence at my back.

As I settle onto the cold ground, my thoughts don’t quiet, but something feels …different. A realignment of sorts.

The uncertainty that’s shadowed me since I arrived in this world hasn’t lessened, but thefearof it has.

Whatever I’m becoming, whatever is going to happen once Sacha regains his ring, I’ll face it.

One day at a time.

One challenge at a time.

One step forward on a path I still can’t fully see.

Chapter Thirty

SACHA

“The exile never forgets the path they were denied.”

Ravencross Market Ballads

The Veil Mistscurl around us, swirling in restless patterns that obey no natural laws. They reach with phantom fingers, tasting the air, testing boundaries. The shadows are different here. Not mine to command. Their texture brushes against my awareness, wrong in a way that demands vigilance.

Dawn brings no real clarity. Only a subtle shift from darkness to a hazy, diffused glow that casts everything in ethereal uncertainty. Around me, the others prepare to move. Varam checks our supplies with the same methodical care I remember. Mira studies a map, and the others sweep our campsite, erasing any sign that we were ever here. As if the mists won’t erase us more thoroughly once we leave.

My attention returns to Ellie. She’s still sleeping, curled on her side with one hand tucked beneath her cheek. I’ve ordered the others to keep silent, allowing her these precious moments of rest. Her body is still caught in the aftermath of yesterday’s incident. The silver light that erupted when the bandit touched her, raw power that will have drained her far more than she’ll ever admit.

The memory replays itself. Her eyes widening in panic, silverlight fracturing through her skin like lightning seeking ground. I’ve cataloged each manifestation since they started, noting patterns, progressions, triggers. Each occurrence grows stronger, more difficult for her to contain. They’re not a danger to me, but a shaping of what she’s becoming. The silver flecks in her eyes burn brighter, like stars approaching supernova.

“She’s changing,” Varam murmurs, coming to stand beside me. The familiarity of his presence brings a comfort sharpened by absence. A reminder of how much time I lost while he endured. “The silver in her eyes. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Neither have I.” I keep my voice neutral despite the admission. “It’s not like any Veinblood power I encountered before my imprisonment.” And I encountered them all. “We all have indicators in our eyes, but none like this.”

He studies her sleeping form, his face betraying rare concern. There’s a weight behind his words when he next speaks. The worry of a soldier, mixed with that of a friend.

“And you believe taking her to Ashenvale is the right decision? What if something happens while we’re there? She could expose us all, and put your entire plan at risk.”

“Yes.” I offer nothing more, letting the single word stand as my complete assessment. There has never been any need for elaboration between us.

“The Veinwarden elders are beginning to wonder if she is what the prophecies spoke of. The stranger from beyond the boundary, bringing change to our world.”

“Prophecies are useful tools for motivation,” I reply, watchinghow the mist flows toward Ellie’s sleeping form, then parts around her, before receding again. “They give people something to cling to. But tactics require evidence, not myths.”

Still, even as I dismiss the thought aloud, I can’t fully deny the pattern taking shape before my eyes.

Varam accepts my words with a small nod, years of friendship and command evident in how easily he backs down. Trust, tempered by caution, binds us still.

“We should move soon. The mists offer less protection once the sun rises fully.”

As he walks away, Ellie stirs. Her eyes flutter open, confusion flickering across her face before recognition takes hold. She sits up, pushing her hair back with unsteady hands, the aftereffects of yesterday’s power still lingering in her trembling fingers.