They didn't return to the village.
Faelan led her deeper into the woods, past stones carved with forgotten runes, through groves where light bent strangely and time felt like a breath held too long. Serelith followed without asking where they were going.
She already knew.
Somewhere in her bones, she remembered this path.
It led to the edge of the Veiled Lands—a realm not fully of the Hollow Courts, yet not of the mortal world either. A place where ancient things slept.
"Your mark," Faelan said as they walked. "It's not just a sigil. It's a seal. A piece of something older than the Courts or the gods."
Serelith touched her collarbone. The mark still shimmered faintly, warm beneath her skin.
"I saw her again," she said softly. "The Hollow Queen. She said I belonged to her."
Faelan's jaw tightened. "She lies. Twists truth like thread. What she wants is the Codex, not you."
They passed beneath an archway of twisted stone, half-swallowed by moss. A heavy stillness fell over the air, like breath before a storm.
"The Codex is real, then?" she asked.
He nodded. "A relic of the Forgotten Age. Before the gods. Before the Courts. It was said to contain the first language of creation. Those who bear its mark are vessels—shapers of fate."
Serelith looked down at her hand. "But I don't remember anything."
"You're not meant to. The Codex chooses its bearer young, and seals itself until the time is right. When the world begins to fray, when the balance breaks…" He looked at her. "Then it stirs."
They emerged into a clearing.
At the center stood a stone monolith, ringed in violet flame that gave no heat. Carvings spiraled across its surface in symbols Serelith couldn't read—but somehow understood.
Each one pulsed in rhythm with her heartbeat.
"Touch it," Faelan said. "It's part of the Codex's memory. It may open something within you."
She hesitated.
Then reached out.
Her fingers brushed stone—
And the world fell away.
---
She stood in a sea of stars.
Words floated through the void, glowing and alive.
Not written. Not spoken. Just known.
> "You were not born.
You were woven.
From threads of dusk and fire, breath and ruin.
The Hollow Queen seeks dominion.
The gods will not stop her.
But you—
You are the veil between.
And the Codex remembers."
Light surged through her body.
Images flickered in her mind: a war before time, winged beings burning in the skies, a temple drowned in shadow, and herself—older, crowned, eyes alight with ancient power.
Then, silence.
And Serelith fell back into her body, gasping.
Faelan caught her before she collapsed.
"What did you see?" he asked, his voice steady, but his hands gripping her shoulders like lifelines.
She stared at him, trembling.
"I saw… me. But not me. A version of me with power that felt like it could tear the world apart."
Faelan's expression darkened.
"She's coming for you," he said. "The Hollow Queen won't wait much longer now that the Codex is waking. We have to move before the Courts send their emissaries."
"Where will we go?"
"To the Forgotten Temple," he said. "It's the only place left with the wards to keep you hidden—and to teach you how to wield what's inside you."
Serelith nodded slowly.
The wind whispered again, colder now.
The veil between worlds was thinning.
And the Codex… had only just begun to open.