Page 69

Another reminder of all that I’ve missed.

“You should know that there has been talk. It reached us in Ravencross. Some of the Veinwardens are concerned.” Varam picks his words carefully. “About her nature. Her origins. The prophecies that seem to increasingly align with her arrival have some of the elders … unsettled.”

I already know. The whispers reach me wherever I go. Conversations halt when I enter a room. Eyes following Ellie with a mixture of hope and fear. Even if they try to hide it, the shadows hear everything. The growing murmurs that her silver light is more than an accident, more than anomaly.

The return of the Shadowvein Lord, accompanied by a stranger from beyond our lands.

Where shadow leads, storm will follow.

The prophecy that took root after my supposed death, is spreading through the Veinwardens like wildfire.

I don't place faith in such things. I never have. But the Veinwardens do. And that makes it dangerous—for her more than anyone.

“Their concerns are noted.” My tone leaves no room for debate. “But I intend to go forward as planned.”

They accept my answer with the deference they have shown since my return, but the wariness in their stances betrays them. The slight shift of Mira’s weight toward the door. The way Varam's eyes do not quite meet mine.

Twenty-seven years without my command forced them to build something new. To survive without a singular voice, without a figurehead.

Without me .

My return disrupts the balance they've created in my absence. It breeds hope. It breeds fear. And I have no time to address either.

"Go eat and rest," I say, forcing my voice to soften slightly. "We'll finalize preparations this evening, ready to leave at dawn."

Once they've gone, their footsteps fading down the stone passageway, I turn back to the patrol schedules, comparing them against our planned route.

The pattern remains intact.

The Authority's system operates on structure and patterns. Their arrogance blinds them. It will be their downfall.

I extend my awareness through shadow, sending tendrils out to scout the mountain paths we'll take tomorrow. The familiar sensation of stretching beyond myself ripples through me. The landscape is familiar yet changed. New growth, shifted stones, altered contours.

A ridge collapsed where I once made camp. A stream diverted by fallen trees.

But the shadows know the way, memorizing each turn.

The door opens again without a knock. Only one person would enter without waiting for permission.

Ellie steps inside. We've developed our own pattern over the past seven days.

She doesn't look directly at me, and I let her decide whether we will have a conversation or not.

Testing the boundaries reformed after that night.

Seven days of regular meals and proper rest have restored what her time in the tower and traveling through the desert took from her.

The hollows of her cheeks have filled out, color returned to her skin.

She no longer looks like the scared, ragged creature who first broke into my prison.

Now she moves with quiet confidence, like she belongs in the Meridian clothing she wears.

A simple midnight-blue tunic cinched at the waist, worn leather boots that she's finally broken in, her hair pulled back into a practical braid that reveals the curve of her neck.

But it’s her eyes that have changed the most.

The silver flecks that first appeared in Ravencross have spread, creating rings of metallic light around her pupils, brightening whenever she loses control during training. Another sign of her deepening connection to this world's magic.

She crosses to the water pitcher and pours herself a cup, the familiar gesture oddly domestic in the midst of war preparations. Her eyes move over the equipment and papers scattered across the table.

My shadows reach for her before I can stop them. I pull them back.

“We leave for Ashenvale tomorrow.” I speak before she can, keeping my voice neutral.

“Ashenvale? That's—” She turns, water forgotten.

“The Authority's base, yes.” I meet her gaze steadily. But it’s more than that. More than she understands.

“Why?” She sets the cup down, her full attention on me now.

“I need to retrieve something. We leave at dawn.”

“Wait … we ?” Her gaze flicks to the table again, then back to me, silver flaring in her eyes. “As in me ?”

“Your abilities are too unpredictable to leave you behind.” The lie comes easily.

She turns to face me fully, silver-flecked eyes studying me with uncomfortable intensity, as though she sees what lies beneath, the things I have spent a lifetime concealing.

“That's not the real reason.”

“No.” My jaw tightens.

She saw too much during that kiss—glimpses of truths I have locked behind years of control. The shadows in the room deepen in response, shifting restlessly along the walls.

“Your safety is better guaranteed by my side.”

“Don't you trust your people here?” She steps closer, her voice lower. The silver in her eyes catches the lantern light.

“I trust them to act in their own best interest.”

I don’t move as she approaches, though every instinct tells me to move away. Even the smallest step back in retreat would be surrender.

“They had to survive without me. They made necessary compromises. Their priority is survival now.”

“And what's your priority?” The question hangs between us, too perceptive, too close to the truths I've buried. Her gaze doesn't waver from mine.

I don’t answer immediately.

Once, my purpose was clear. Dismantle the Authority, protect the Veinbloods, reclaim what was stolen, rebuild what was broken.

But twenty-seven years is a long time. The world I once swore to defend no longer exists. It has hardened. Become desperate.

And so have I.

“To finish what I started.” There's more I could say. There always is. But silence is a discipline too deeply ingrained to betray now.

She sighs, a soft exhalation that speaks volumes. But she doesn't argue or press further. A mercy I don't deserve. Instead, she moves closer, close enough that I can see the faint freckles across her nose. Her fingers brush the fabric laid out on the table.

“What are these?”

“Authority uniforms. We'll wear them to blend in.” I hand her one of the bundles, taking care not to let my fingers brush hers. “In three days time, Ashenvale will celebrate the anniversary of my execution. The Day of Order. It gives me the opportunity I need to get inside.”

“Won't they kill you, if they discover you're there?” Concern creases her brow, genuine in a way I've rarely encountered. “What is worth that kind of risk?”

I consider how much to tell her, weighing truth against strategy.

“Before my capture at Thornreave Pass, I divided my power between two objects.” My hand moves to the sword at my hip, shadows curling briefly around the hilt before fading.

“The sword held part of it. And a ring holds the rest. That is in Ashenvale.”

Her brow furrows. “You put your power in a ring? Like—” She shakes her head, a small smile touching her lips. “Never mind. That's from my world.”

“It's an old method, practiced by the Veinbloods before the Authority began hunting us.” The admission comes more easily than I expected.

“Certain objects can anchor power, shielding it from discovery, and preserve it against attempts to neutralize or destroy it. Without that precaution, I would have died at Thornreave.”

“And with the ring, you'll be … what? Stronger?” Her eyes search mine, the silver brightening around her irises.

“No.” I hold her gaze. “Complete.”

She's quiet for a moment, processing this new information. Her fingers trace the embroidered Authority sigil on the uniform's collar, a motion that makes my skin crawl. Finally, she asks the question I knew would come.

“What does that mean for me? For getting home?”

The question I expected. The answer, I still don't have.

“Your connection to this world's magic is growing,” I say carefully. “Understanding it—why it formed, why it's holding—remains our best hope for determining how you might return home.”

“If I still can.” Her voice is soft, sad. She looks down at her hands, turning them palm-up as if searching for answers written there. “Sometimes I feel like I'm becoming something else entirely.”

I stay silent. I won't offer false hope where none exists. There is a possibility that her arrival was a one-way trip. That she is no longer fully of the world she left behind. And the silver in her eyes grows stronger every day.

She turns away, the light catching the rings of brightness, reminding me of the lines from the prophecy.

Where shadow leads, storm will follow.

“How dangerous is it going to be?” She faces me again, arms crossed. “And please, don't say 'significant risk' or any other sanitized description. ”

I incline my head, respecting her desire for honesty. “Ashenvale has the highest concentration of Authority forces in Meridian. If we're caught, we die.” I pause. “My death would be slow. Public.”

“Fantastic.” She rubs a hand over her face, a gesture I've come to recognize as her bracing herself, gathering the remnants of her courage. “Sounds like a great time. When did you say we're leaving?”

“Before dawn.” I find myself wanting to offer reassurance, an unfamiliar urge. “We'll take the mountain paths, and avoid the main checkpoints. I know these routes better than anyone. My familiar will warn us of patrols.”

“What if we get separated?” Her fingers worry at the hem of her tunic. “What if something happens to you?”

“There are contingencies for that.” My voice softens slightly. “Varam knows to bring you back here if we're separated.”

“Of course there are.” The ghost of a smile touches her lips, the first genuine one I've seen in days. “The infamous strategist, always thinking ten steps ahead.”

Something in her tone catches me off guard. Not mockery. Not reluctant admiration. Acceptance. Understanding. As if she sees the weight of the constant calculations and doesn't judge me for them.

“Dawn comes early.” I walk toward my private room, needing distance from what her acceptance does to my control. “Eat, and sleep while you can.”

She nods, and turns toward her own room, then stops, one hand on the doorframe.

“Sacha?”

“Yes?” I pause, not turning fully .

“Whatever happens next, I just wanted to say … thank you.” Her voice has a quality that makes the shadows still. “For not treating me like I'm completely helpless in this world.”

The quiet honesty in her tone catches me off guard, more effective at penetrating my defenses than any argument or accusation could.

No one has ever thanked me for anything I’ve done.

Gratitude is not a currency I know how to accept.

I’m built for resistance, for survival, not for acknowledgement.

And yet, for a single breath, it loosens something inside me.

“You’re not helpless, Mel’shira.” My voice is soft. “You never have been.”

Her gaze flickers, something shifting behind it—a flash of silver that seems to respond to my words. Then she nods once and slips into her room, the door clicking shut behind her.

I stand there for a moment longer, staring at her closed door, feeling the weight of her words settle in places I thought long dead.

Tomorrow we will travel to Ashenvale, the heart of Authority control. I will reclaim the final part of my power, the piece that was torn from me at Thornreave Pass. And then we can begin the next phase of taking back what we lost. What was stolen from all of us.

I send my familiar out one last time, extending my awareness through its form, watching through its eyes as it soars over the mountain stronghold.

Stonehaven is alive with quiet preparation—weapons being sharpened, supplies gathered, messages passed in hushed tones.

Faces tense with anticipation. A resistance that survived without me, preparing to follow my lead once more.

Putting their faith in a legend they barely know .

But my attention keeps returning to the chamber near mine, where Ellie readies herself without understanding the truth of what may lie ahead. She prepares to walk into danger she can't comprehend, trusting me to guide her through a world built on betrayals.

Despite everything she’s seen of the mind that drives every action.

Despite what she saw when our barriers fell.

She offers me trust I haven't earned. Trust I'm not certain I deserve. Trust that could become my undoing in the hands of Sereven.

Yet there it remains, shimmering like the silver in her eyes. Unexpected. And unwelcome.

But mostly, impossible to ignore … Like her presence in this world. Like the way my shadows reach for her when my guard drops. Like the possibility that, for the first time, I am not entirely alone.