The road beyond the ruined city felt heavier with Ronan Vale traveling alongside them. The weight of three people's pasts, three sets of unanswered questions, and three lives bound by the same invisible thread pressed between them, though none dared speak it aloud—not yet.
They moved through dense woods and rolling hills, following half-forgotten trails and fading maps. The nights were cold, and the days were long, but it was the silence between them that gnawed at Elara the most.
It was Ronan who broke it first. Around their campfire, his voice low, almost reluctant. "I've been thinking… it can't be a coincidence. The assassins. The way they appeared, what they wanted. It's as if they were hunting… the same thing."
Taryn tossed a twig into the flames, her jaw tightening. "Magic."
Elara looked up sharply, her hands tightening around the cup of tea she barely touched. "What do you mean?"
Taryn's eyes flicked to Ronan's, then to Elara's. "What if they're not after us because of who we are… but because of what we are?" She glanced at Ronan. "None of us asked for this. But somehow, we've all been… touched by something."
Ronan nodded, the flickering firelight reflecting in his cold, sharp eyes. "I didn't choose magic. It tore through me the night they came. But you…" he turned to Elara, his gaze intense, "yours is different. You glow." There was no accusation in his voice, just quiet wonder. "That light… it's not just magic. It's something else."
Elara swallowed hard, staring down at her hands. "I felt it first when I was a child. Once… when my grandmother died." She hesitated, the memories heavy on her chest. "She was the only one who ever told me stories about… gods, old bloodlines, and power. I didn't believe her." Her lips trembled. "Until I saw it with my own eyes. But what happened in the clearing… that was different. Bigger."
Taryn frowned, leaning forward. "What did your grandmother tell you? Anything… anything that might explain why those men came after you?"
Elara shook her head slowly. "Only that our blood carries power. She called it… a 'gift' from the old gods. But she never said why. Only that we were meant to find something… or someone." Her voice dropped. "I thought it was just stories. Until now."
Silence fell, heavy and thick. The wind rustled the trees like ghosts whispering secrets none of them could hear.
Then Ronan spoke again. "The night my family was slaughtered… a man came to me. I didn't remember until you mentioned your grandmother's stories." He stared into the fire, eyes distant. "He pulled me from the ashes, soothed the magic tearing through my body, and told me the same thing—that I had a role to play, that I was a piece of something ancient. He disappeared before I could even ask his name."
Taryn's head snapped up, her blood running cold. "What… what did he look like?"
Ronan blinked, dragging his gaze to hers. "Tall. Dark hair. Green eyes that didn't look human. Wore silver rings, one on every finger." He frowned. "Why?"
Taryn's stomach twisted. "Because I saw him too. After… after my family died. He saved me, taught me just enough to keep myself alive." She exhaled, her voice breaking. "He told me I'd meet a girl. An Eldorian girl with light in her blood."
Elara's breath caught. "Eldoria…? But you said you've never heard of it."
"I hadn't," Taryn whispered. "Not really. The name was buried in my mind like a dream I'd forgotten. Until now." She looked at Elara, something unreadable in her eyes. "Are you that girl?"
"I don't know," Elara breathed, shaking her head. "I don't even know who I really am."
Ronan's voice rumbled low. "Maybe none of us do. But that man… whoever he is, he's the thread connecting us. And if he's right… our meeting wasn't chance."
Taryn sat back, the fire crackling between them. "We're tied together by blood, by magic… by him."
Elara looked between them, her heart pounding in her chest. "So… what now? Do we just wait for the next attack? Or do we find him?"
Ronan smiled faintly, the first real smile they'd seen from him. "No more running. If he's watching, he knows we're ready."
Taryn grinned, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "And if those assassins come again, we'll be ready for them, too."
For the first time since they'd met, something shifted—a silent agreement forged between them. Not just survival… but purpose.
The fire burned low, the stars wheeling above, and though none of them said it aloud, they each felt it in their bones:
They were no longer just strangers bound by circumstance.
They were a fated bond.
And whatever waited ahead, they would face it together.
The following days were restless. They traveled under vast skies, through misty forests and barren hills, their silence speaking louder than words. At night, while Ronan and Taryn took turns at watch, Elara stared into the flames, thoughts twisting like smoke.
That man—Veridian. The one who saved them all in different moments of their lives. The one Ronan described in eerie detail. Elara's heart clenched every time his image surfaced in her mind. She knew. Deep down, she knew.
He was my father.
But the words stayed trapped behind her teeth. How could she tell them? What if they saw her differently? What if they left? She wasn't ready to carry that weight—not yet. I need to understand first. I need to know why he sent us here… why he sent them to me.
For now, she would keep that secret buried.
It was days later, after crossing a vast plain shrouded in low-hanging mist, that they found it—or rather, stumbled into it.
The air shimmered as they moved forward, a wave of invisible resistance pressing against their skin. Taryn cursed, hand instinctively reaching for a blade.
"You feel that?" Ronan muttered, his hand brushing the hilt of his sword.
Elara nodded, heart racing. "It's… magic. Old."
They pressed forward, breaking through the barrier with a shimmer of golden light—and there it was.
An ancient ruin, crumbling and half-swallowed by earth and vines, revealed itself where before there had been nothing. Towers long broken, stones worn by time, strange markings carved deep into the surfaces that none of them could read. The air smelled of dust, decay… and power.
"It wasn't meant to be found," Taryn muttered. "That barrier… it was hiding this place."
Ronan's eyes darkened. "Or keeping something inside."
They explored carefully, every footstep echoing through the hollow bones of the ruin. Elara couldn't stop trembling, her skin prickling as if the very walls were whispering to her.
Then it happened.
A loose stone beneath Elara's boot crumbled, and she fell. Taryn's shout echoed, but she couldn't grab her in time.
Elara tumbled into darkness, her body slamming hard onto a lower platform, pain exploding through her limbs. She gasped, struggling to stay conscious—but something… something reached out from the dark.
A fractured pedestal stood in the center of the chamber, and within it… a shard of an amulet.
The moment her bloodied hand brushed against it, the world shattered.
Light flared, blinding and pure, wrapping around her. And then—she wasn't Elara anymore.
She was… someone else.
A voice—her own but not—echoed through the chamber. "I was her. The Silent Sentinel. And you—" her gaze snapped upward as if seeing through stone and time, "you promised you'd return."
Above, Taryn and Ronan struggled to climb down, calling her name.
Elara—no, the woman she once was—clutched the amulet piece as it fused with her skin, searing itself into her very blood. Memories she never knew she had surged: a great war, fire and blood, standing in golden fields with Taryn—not Taryn, but another version of her—laughing, fighting, loving.
And then—Taryn falling, shielding her from a blade meant for her heart. Dying with a smile on her lips.
"No—no!" Elara's voice cracked as the past ripped through her.
She came back gasping, the glowing amulet piece in her palm, blood dripping from her fingertips. Taryn was there, grabbing her shoulders. "Elara! Gods, talk to me. What happened?"
Elara stared at her—really stared—and without a word, lifted the shard toward Taryn.
The moment it drew close, a pulse of energy surged between them. Taryn flinched, memories slamming into her like a tidal wave.
She saw herself—but not the Taryn she knew now.
No short-cropped hair or battered leathers.
Instead, she stood proud in gleaming silver armor etched with ancient runes, her long hair braided with golden ribbons that shimmered like sunlight. At her hip hung a blade not of steel, but of pure light—radiant and humming with power.
They were together—always together. Taryn at Elara's side, laughing easily, her eyes softer then, unburdened by the world's cruelty. There were stolen moments in fields of wildflowers, their hands entwined, vows whispered under moonlight. Promises of protection… of forever.
And then—
The battlefield.
Fire raged across the horizon, skies torn open by magic and shadow. Screams of the dying echoed, the earth itself scarred by the war between Light and Darkness. Elara stood at the center of it, her power faltering, the weight of her destiny dragging her down.
And Taryn—her champion, her shield—fought like a storm.
She remembered now. Taryn had always been her protector. Not because of duty, but because of love.
The dark-cloaked assassins—the same order that hunted them now—descended in waves. Shadows that slipped through magic and steel alike. One by one, their allies fell, until only Taryn remained between Elara and death.
Elara saw it—the moment fate turned against them. A shadow blade, aimed for her heart. And Taryn—her Taryn—saw it too.
Without hesitation, she threw herself into the path of the strike.
"NO!" Elara's scream had torn through the battlefield. But it was too late.
The shadow blade pierced through Taryn's side, dark tendrils spreading like poison. Yet, even as death claimed her, Taryn's eyes never left Elara's. She smiled—broken but fierce.
"I promised… I'd protect you… Always."
With the last of her strength, Taryn had unleashed her light—one final, blinding surge that scattered the assassins and bought Elara the chance to escape.
Taryn's body crumpled, her light fading… but that promise lingered.
And now, standing in the ruins of the past, with the shard glowing between them, Taryn remembered everything.
"I—" Taryn's voice broke. "I know you."
Tears slipped down Elara's cheeks as she whispered, voice shaking, "I remember now… You… you died. For me."
Taryn swallowed hard, her voice rough with unshed tears. "I chose it. I'd choose it again." She reached out, resting a trembling hand against Elara's cheek. "And somehow… we're here. We found each other."
Elara leaned into the touch, her heart breaking and healing all at once. "I was so afraid I'd lost you forever."
They stood there, breathless, the shard glowing between them like a heartbeat, as the weight of their shared past settled.
Taryn wiped at her face roughly. "I swore I'd find you again. And I did. You can't lose me, Elara. Not then. Not now."
Ronan stood silent, the weight of what he witnessed pressing heavy on him.
Ronan cleared his throat, his voice rough. "Someone want to explain what in the seven hells is going on?"
Elara finally turned to him, her voice steadier, her face pale but calm. " It's… complicated. But I think this ruin was the first step. This… this is bigger than just revenge or survival. We're caught in something old… something unfinished. And this—" she held up the amulet, "—isn't just a key. It's a piece of who I was. Who we were."
"And there's more," Taryn added quietly, eyes distant. "There's so much more we've forgotten."
The ruin groaned around them, the air shifting as if awakening after centuries of slumber.
Ronan sighed, folding his arms. "Then we find the rest. Whatever it takes."
For the first time, Elara felt it—the certainty of it all. This was no longer just her burden to carry.
They were bound—by blood, by past lives, by fate.
The shard pulsed once more between Elara and Taryn, as if sealing that ancient bond anew.
Together, they would face whatever came next.
Together, they would rewrite their fate.