Chapter 7: The Returns
The path beyond the mirror was different.
Gone were the whispering trees and twisting illusions. The air was heavier now—thicker, filled with the scent of earth and decay. The Grove was older here. Not just ancient, but eternal. Liora could feel it pressing on her skin, vibrating under her boots, thudding like a second heartbeat.
"It's remembering us," Kaelen said.
"What does that mean?"
"It means we've gone too far to turn back. And it means…it knows who you are now."
Liora looked at him. "What am I, Kaelen?"
But Kaelen didn't answer. He only pointed to a tree up ahead—taller than all the others, gnarled and blackened, as if it had been struck by lightning a thousand times and still refused to fall. Its trunk was hollow, and from it hung dozens of small tokens: necklaces, rusted rings, bits of cloth, and bones.
Liora stepped closer, drawn by something deeper than curiosity. She knew this tree. Not from memory, but from dreams—repeating nightmares where it loomed behind her as she ran through fire.
Her hand brushed the bark, and a jolt surged through her.
She saw her father.
Not in life—but in this place.
He stood beneath this very tree, years ago, younger, stronger. And beside him…was the Keeper.
Tall, cloaked in bone and branches, its face was a mass of shifting eyes. Liora watched as her father knelt, pressing a bloodied hand to the ground. The Keeper extended a claw and touched his forehead.
A pact.
The vision vanished.
She stumbled back, breath shallow. "He was here. My father."
Kaelen's face darkened. "So it's true. Your line made a bargain with the Grove."
"But why?"
"To protect the throne. To control the magic that kept Serathil alive. But that power came from the Grove's roots—and the price was always blood."
Liora looked around. "Then that means… I was marked from birth."
Kaelen didn't deny it.
Suddenly, a sound cut through the silence. Footsteps. Many.
They turned, and emerging from the trees came a group of robed figures—silent, masked, and moving like shadows. At their head was a woman cloaked in deep green, her eyes glowing faintly.
She stopped a few paces from Liora and bowed. "Child of the pact. You have returned."
Liora stiffened. "Who are you?"
"We are the Remnants," the woman said. "Those left behind when your bloodline abandoned the Keeper's will."
Kaelen stepped in front of Liora. "She owes you nothing."
But the woman only smiled. "On the contrary. The Grove called her home. We are only here to help her remember what she is."
Liora's voice was steady. "I don't need your help. I need my brother."
The woman nodded. "He came willingly. He was strong… but not strong enough."
"Where is he?" Liora demanded.
The woman raised a hand—and from the shadows behind her, something stepped forward.
Liora's heart dropped.
It was Renan.
Or what had once been him.
His body was thinner, his skin paler, his eyes sunken. But it was the shadow behind him that made Liora's breath catch. A thing coiled around him—black as oil, with too many limbs and a face that changed each time she looked at it.
The Keeper's mark.
"Renan!" she called.
He blinked. Recognition flickered. "Liora…?"
Then the shadow pulled him back. His face twisted, and he screamed—but no sound came out.
Liora ran forward, but Kaelen grabbed her.
"Not yet!" he hissed. "You'll fall right into its hold."
Liora trembled with rage. "He's still in there. I saw it."
The Remnant woman tilted her head. "Then follow. If you truly wish to save him, you must go where the pact was born."
The figures turned and disappeared into the forest, the air shimmering behind them.
Kaelen looked at Liora. "You don't have to go."
"I do," she said. "If I don't, he's gone. And if this Grove cursed my family… I'm ending it."
Together, they stepped forward, following the shadows—into the birthplace of the pact.
The forest around them sighed.
Liora didn't look back.
To be continued…