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Black smoke rolls out from the windows of the large estate .

Someone grabs my hand, pulling me away from the burning house.

Their features are blurred, but their hand is large, holding mine tightly as they lead me forward.

“You must run when I give the signal,” the strong male voice says.

“I don’t understand,” my voice trembles.

He plants a soft kiss atop my head. Then, I’m shoved away from him, even though something within me wants to stay by his side.

“Go!” he commands. “Now!”

I hesitate.

“RUN!”

I jolt awake in bed, cold sweat soaking my brow. I frantically scan the room, but find nothing out of the ordinary except for the sleeping Galrosan on the small couch in the corner of the large chamber.

Virgil hasn’t left my side for even a moment after my emotional collapse six days ago.

“I won’t leave you alone to deal with this,” he says every day that I’ve insisted that I’m fine.

However, he sees past the lie that even I try to convince myself is true.

In full transparency, it’s nice to have someone else in this large room when the roaming spirits are restless at night.

Since he’s been here, I haven’t seen Cara’s apparition again.

The last sighting of her spirit was the night before my meltdown.

Similar to the first time, her words were cruel and unforgiving.

Perhaps that’s what truly pushed me over the edge that day.

The warring emotions I felt were suffocating.

I was overjoyed by the feat I’d accomplished…

until the Cales’ words echoed—reminding me of how I’d failed to save them.

The thought that I had access to this part of my ability the entire time I was in Aurelius but didn’t recognize it… The notion devastated me.

So I collapsed—crippled by grief and disappointment.

In my despair, I mentally went back to that day in Aurelius when I found their broken bodies, their blood on my hands for days after because I thought I deserved to wear that shame.

It replayed in my mind over and over again.

“I could’ve saved them,” I cried for what felt like hours.

When Emyr tried to carry me away, I couldn’t allow it. Not after the horror I saw written in every feature. He was terrified of what was happening to me, and if Domhnall happened to be lurking… I couldn’t risk his safety or the wrath of the king.

Not to mention, I didn’t want him to see when I truly fell apart—when the waves of grief surely drowned me.

He carries so many burdens on his shoulders—it’s unfair to ask him to also harbor mine.

I know I hurt him by choosing Virgil. The shift in his emotions was so palpable that I couldn’t bear to look at him and see the pain I’d wrought.

Beyond training, Emyr hasn’t visited, nor has he allowed me to explain myself.

The amusement that typically twinkles in his bright eyes is no longer there.

He’s been quite cruel as of late, especially anytime Virgil speaks with me.

Then, when it’s time to escort me back to my chambers, he no longer accompanies me or the others—perhaps that’s for the best.

Perhaps he finally realizes that I’m an unnecessary complication that he doesn’t need in his life.

I sigh, turning my head. Virgil is still sleeping soundly.

His usually tense features are softer in the light gray glow of the morning.

For some reason, it doesn’t feel strange that he’s here.

If Emyr were the one asleep, I’m not sure I’d feel quite as at ease.

It’s not that he makes me uncomfortable.

On the contrary, it’s quite the opposite.

The unease is from the tiny flutters in my stomach that happens anytime he’s near.

I care deeply for both of them, but my relationships with the Galrosans couldn’t be more different.

Emyr triggers a giddiness within me, while Virgil offers me stability.

Quite frankly, I’m perplexed with the ease I feel around Virgil when it comes to my vulnerability.

Perhaps it’s because he doesn’t make quippy remarks or maybe it’s because I don’t feel judgment from him.

Somehow, I know that he can be trusted. Yet, there aren’t flutters in my stomach when I’m around him. I just feel peace—protection.

The last several days, he’s spoken kindly to me and held my hand until I fell asleep, promising that all the ways we’ve been wronged would be corrected one day.

I don’t believe him, but I still find comfort in his words:

“If there isn’t hope, then what’s there to live for?” he asks earnestly.

“There is nothing without hope,” I say.

“Then we must keep believing,” he replies. “Despite how all of this devastation feels, life is worth fighting for.”

A kind sentiment for a weary soul.

My mind continues to whirl as I step into the bathing chamber to dress for the last day of training. My soul is weighed down by my failures.

I’m the chaos, not the cure.

I’m the one predestined to awaken the Na Fíréin?

Then why do I destroy every semblance of goodness around me?

If anything, I’m the slow-acting poison that infects the unsuspecting. If I were the antidote, would I not also stop death itself?

In all of my fretting, Saoirse’s presence caresses my mind. You can’t heal what’s fatal, my dear. As great as your strength is, you aren’t gifted with the god’s power, she coos.

Her words unsettle me. She’s told me this sentiment over and over for the last several days, but I can never bring myself to respond.

In truth, while I’ve grown quite fond of the mysterious voice in my head, I’ve become more and more frightened of the fact that she knows so much yet shares so little.

You know I can’t share beyond what I’m allowed, she replies, apparently reading my thoughts.

I’m aware she has access to them, but I don’t have a single moment of privacy… I’m quite tempted to throw that wall back up between us.

You’re angry, and I truly understand why you’re so melancholy, my dear, she says placatingly. My only interest is your safety and providing counsel when necessary.

Get out of my head, I seethe.

Maeva, let me help you, she pleads.

Why would the king promise to bring them back with the Crógemma if I weren’t powerful? I say. He promises that with my ability and the gem, resurrection is possible.

Saoirse is silent for a long moment. There’s always a price to be paid for what’s unnatural, she finally says.

Unnatural? I scoff. You claim my ability is a gift, do you not? He promises that together we can bring them back, so why would I not be willing to at least try?

It’s unwise to believe one to be the master of all life, she growls. You’ve already chosen to believe the king’s delusion ? —

You’re the one that encouraged me to train with Emyr, so that I could bring them back! I spit. Or is that just another lie?

Maeva Cale, I’ve never told you a lie, her voice booms. I encouraged you to train, so you’d be prepared for what’s to come, not so you could help the wicked king.

Saoirse releases a long sigh. Did I reveal everything you desired to know?

No. Truthfully, I can’t do so because I don’t know if this scheme of the king will work.

What he’s chasing is old lore from centuries before even his reign began.

However, I saw the apparitions through your eyes.

I heard their voices. I felt your suffering and couldn’t reach you because you put up a wall to keep me from doing so, but even then I never left you, Maeva, she pauses, her voice breaking.

When everyone else leaves or strays, I’ll be here as your loyal servant.

Do you believe he can bring them back? I ask quietly.

She sighs. Yes, he potentially could bring them back, but I fear they won’t be as you remember them.

I fear that the Demon King is fooling not just you, but himself.

You’ve seen his court, Maeva. You’ve experienced his lunacy, yet you chose to aid him.

I can’t blame you for it. If I had the chance to awaken those I loved, I’m not sure that I’d refuse such an offer.

I run a hand through my hair, my heart growing heavier and lighter at the same time. Do you believe I chose the right path? I ask.

It isn’t my place to make you choose the right path, but to help guide you on the one that you do choose, Maeva, she replies.

Still, this current path isn’t the one I’d choose for you.

Tiernan’s need for the Na Fíréin worries me because what he seeks won’t be for the good of the realm, Maeva.

I just hope that this path doesn’t end in the destruction of Celestae.

Her words cause guilt to settle over me.

I know that making a deal with Tiernan could be costly, and in truth, I never cared what he might do with the Na Fíréin once they were awoken.

I figured Siorai made them powerful enough to withstand Tiernan, but what if there’s more to this than I’ve been told?

Siorai chose you for a reason, and I trust that there’s a reason he also guided you to this path, Saoirse says softly. However, I urge you to be wise while on this quest and not to allow your grief to cloud your judgment.

Then, her presence recoils back into the recesses of my mind, leaving me in peace to ponder her words.