Aria tightened her grip on the silver fragment, Celeste's words still echoing in her mind.
"You may have to make a choice."
The weight of the moment pressed down on her, but she forced herself to stand tall. She had come too far to falter now.
She turned to her mother. "We should go home."
Celeste's expression softened, a flicker of hesitation in her eyes. "Home…" she echoed.
Aria nodded. "Dad needs to see you. He deserves to know the truth."
A shadow passed over Celeste's face, but she didn't protest. Instead, she looked toward the horizon, where the fading light cast long, uncertain shapes over the land.
"Then let's not keep him waiting," she said.
---
The journey back felt unreal. Aria kept glancing at her mother as if she might vanish at any moment. Celeste walked beside her, quiet but present, her blue eyes thoughtful as they traveled through the familiar streets of Evercrest.
When they reached the Evercrest forge, Aria hesitated. The warm glow of lantern light spilled through the windows, and she could see the faint outline of her father moving inside.
Taking a steadying breath, she pushed open the door.
Elion Evercrest was hammering away at a piece of metal, lost in the rhythm of his craft. He barely looked up at first. "Aria, you're back late—"
He turned.
And froze.
The hammer slipped from his grip, clattering loudly to the ground. His eyes locked onto Celeste, disbelief warring with a hundred other emotions.
"Celeste…" he whispered, his voice barely a breath.
Celeste stepped forward. "Elion."
For a moment, neither of them moved. Then Elion took a shaky step forward, then another, until he reached her. His hand trembled as he reached out, almost afraid to touch her.
"You're… you're real?" His voice cracked.
Tears gathered in Celeste's eyes. "I'm home."
With a choked sound, Elion pulled her into his arms, holding her as if he never intended to let go. Celeste clung to him just as tightly.
Aria swallowed past the lump in her throat. She had dreamed of this moment—of her family being whole again—but standing here, watching her father hold her mother like a man clinging to life itself, she realized how much time had been stolen from them.
Finn cleared his throat behind her. "Okay, so I wasn't expecting to cry tonight, but wow, this is emotional."
Lyric elbowed him, though her own eyes were suspiciously bright.
Kael simply watched in silence, his expression unreadable.
Then, before anyone could speak, the door opened again.
A new voice, warm and familiar, filled the room.
"I was wondering why I suddenly felt like coming here."
They all turned.
Standing in the doorway was a woman with soft auburn hair and deep green eyes—eyes that mirrored Finn's almost exactly.
Finn straightened. "Mum?"
Elyra Alderwyn stepped inside, her gaze sweeping the room before landing on Celeste.
A slow smile spread across her lips. "So… the rumors were true."
Celeste turned, and for the first time in ages, a genuine smile crossed her face. "Elyra."
The two women embraced, the years melting away in an instant.
"It's been too long," Elyra murmured. "Far too long."
Aria watched in awe. Her mother and Finn's mother had fought together once. They had been part of the same group—Seekers and Healers, bound by a mission that had cost them dearly.
Elyra pulled back, studying Celeste. "So… I take it we have a lot to discuss?"
Celeste nodded. "More than you can imagine."
---
As the night stretched on, they all gathered around the fire, sharing stories, questions, and answers long overdue.
Aria told them everything—the trials, the shards, the seals, and Saraphine's true role in all of it.
Elyra and Celeste listened carefully, their expressions darkening.
Finally, Aria took a deep breath. "We've found everyone except the Shadow Walker."
A heavy silence followed.
Celeste and Elyra exchanged a look.
"Finding him won't be easy," Celeste said at last.
Elyra sighed, rubbing her temples. "If he's still out there… he won't want to be found."
Quinn, who had been quiet until now, tensed. "Why?"
Elyra's gaze sharpened as she looked at him. "Because the last Shadow Walker disappeared for a reason."
A chill ran through the room.
Quinn's fists clenched. "What do you mean?"
Celeste's expression was grim. "Shadow Walkers are different from other Path Finders'. They don't just wield shadows—they exist between them. They can slip through places unseen, bend the darkness to their will. But that power comes with a price."
Elyra continued, "The last Shadow Walker—before you, Quinn—was one of the most powerful we had ever seen. But the shadows… they changed him. He lost himself to them. And then, one day, he simply vanished."
Quinn swallowed hard.
The weight of their words pressed down on him. As the only Shadow Walker in Aria's group, what did that mean for him?
Aria frowned. "So you're saying he's still out there? Alive?"
Celeste hesitated. "If he is… he won't be the same person we once knew."
Elyra's voice dropped to a whisper. "And if he's already fallen to the darkness… then finding him might be the greatest danger of all."
The fire crackled, throwing eerie shadows against the walls.
For the first time that night, no one spoke.
The journey ahead was already uncertain. But now, as the weight of their next task settled over them, one thing became painfully clear—
The Shadow Walker was more than just missing.
He was waiting.
And he might not be on their side.
---
A single candle flickered in the vast chamber, its feeble light swallowed by the oppressive darkness. Shadows slithered along the walls, twisting and writhing as if alive. The air was thick with the scent of aged parchment, smoldering incense, and something more acrid—like burnt metal.
Saraphine Vale stood before an ancient obsidian mirror, her sharp features carved in cold fury. The reflection did not show her alone. It showed the truth.
Celeste Evercrest was free.
Her fingers curled into fists, nails digging into her palms as she watched the scene unfold within the mirror's depths—Celeste, standing beside Aria, alive and whole. The wretched traitor had escaped the Black Veil.
And there was only one person who could have made that possible.
The image shifted.
Dorian Veyl.
Saraphine's lips twisted into a snarl. He stood in the shadows, half-hidden, watching Aria from afar.
"You foolish boy," she hissed, her voice laced with venom.
A figure stepped into the room, cloaked in dark silks, his face partially obscured by a silver mask. The flickering candlelight revealed piercing crimson eyes beneath the hood.
Ashar.
Saraphine did not turn to acknowledge him. Her gaze remained locked on the mirror.
"He betrayed us," she murmured, her voice eerily calm. "Dorian has turned against me."
Ashar inclined his head slightly. "He was never truly ours to begin with."
Saraphine's hand lashed out, and the air trembled. The mirror's surface rippled violently, distorting the images within.
"He was mine," she snapped, her voice edged with fury. "I raised him from the ashes of his ruin. I gave him purpose when the world abandoned him. And this is how he repays me?"
The shadows behind her coiled and thickened, writhing with her rage.
Ashar remained still. "What would you have me do?"
A cruel smile curved Saraphine's lips.
"If Dorian wants to play the hero," she said, her voice dripping with malice, "then let him drown in the consequences of his choices."
She turned away from the mirror, striding toward the massive stone altar at the room's center. Ancient carvings glowed faintly beneath her fingertips as she traced the inscriptions—a forgotten dialect of the old world, lost to all but the most learned scholars.
But Saraphine did not need scholars.
She was power incarnate.
She pressed her palm against the altar, whispering in a language older than the stars.
The chamber trembled.
Chains rattled from the darkness beyond. A deep, guttural growl echoed from the void, accompanied by the clinking of restraints worn too long. A presence stirred—one that had been slumbering for centuries, bound by seals that should never be broken.
Ashar stiffened. Even he, ruthless and unwavering, took an involuntary step back.
"My lady…" he said carefully, "this is not a force to be unleashed lightly."
Saraphine turned to him, her sapphire eyes gleaming with something close to madness.
"No," she murmured, "it is not."
Then her smile widened.
"But Dorian has forced my hand."
A monstrous, shuddering breath echoed through the chamber, as if something ancient had just awoken.
The chains snapped.
A pair of glowing, spectral eyes burned through the darkness.
And the world would soon tremble.